Dinner on Monster Island: An Intimate Collection of Essays Exploring Queerness, Cultural Monsters, and Personal Growth

by Tania De Rozario

In this unusual, engaging, and intimate collection of personal essays, Lambda Literary Award finalist Tania De Rozario recalls growing up as a queer, brown, fat girl in Singapore, blending memoir with elements of history, pop culture, horror films, and current events to explore the nature of monsters and what it means to be different.

Tania De Rozario was just twelve years old when she was gay-exorcised. Convinced that her boyish style and demeanor were a sign of something wicked, her mother and a pair of her church friends tried to “banish the evil” from Tania. That day, the young girl realized that monsters weren’t just found in horror tales. They could lurk anywhere—including your own family and community—and look just like you.  

Dinner on Monster Island is Tania’s memoir of her life and childhood in Singapore—where she discovered how difference is often perceived as deviant, damaged, disobedient, and sometimes, demonic. As she pulls back the veil on life on the small island, she reveals the sometimes kind, sometimes monstrous side of all of us. Intertwined with her experiences is an analysis of the role of women in horror. Tania looks at films and popular culture such as Carrie, The Witch, and The Ring to illuminate the ways in which women are often portrayed as monsters, and how in real life, monsters are not what we think.  

Moving and lyrical, written with earnest candor, and leavened with moments of humor and optimism, Dinner on Monster Island is a deeply personal examination of one woman’s experience grappling with her identity and a fantastic analysis of monsters, monstrous women and the worlds in which they live.

Genres: Nonfiction, Essays, Memoir, LGBT, Queer, Horror, Adult

190 pages, Kindle Edition

First published February 6, 2024

About the author

Tania De Rozario is a writer and visual artist. She is the author of four books. Her latest collection, Dinner on Monster Island (Harper Perennial, 2024), has been described as “sharp and searing” (Ms. Magazine), “unique” (Publishers Weekly), “a book with resonance” (Kirkus Reviews), "taut and riveting" (LA Times), "elegant", "droll" and "magnetic" (British Columbia Review).

She is also the author of Tender Delirium (2013, Math Paper Press), And The Walls Come Crumbling Down (2016, Math Paper Press / 2020, Gaudy Boy), and Somewhere Else, Another You (2018, Math Paper Press).

Tania’s writing has won the New Ohio Review Nonfiction Contest (2020) and the Muriel Craft Bailey Poetry Contest (2021), has been a finalist at the Lambda Literary Awards (2021) and has been published in journals/anthologies across four continents. Her art has been showcased in Singapore, Europe and the US. She has written widely about art, with a focus on Singapore and Southeast Asia, and has also worked as an adjunct, teaching at the UBC School of Creative Writing (Canada, 2021-2023) and across faculties at Lasalle College of the Arts (Singapore, 2006-2018).

Reviews

[CaseyTheCanadianLesbrarian · Rating 4 out of 5]

This excellent collection of essays alternately taught me a lot (mostly about Singapore, a place I knew pretty much nothing about before reading this book) and moved me, particularly when de rozario writes about her mother and the intense homophobia she experienced from her and Singaporean society at large as a young person.

I also particularly liked the essays that drew parallels between horror media (The Shining and Doctor Sleep, The Walking Dead) and de rozario's life. A few of the essays are a little too journalistic for my taste, without much analysis or introspection added to the facts, but that's a fairly minor quibble.

Recommended, especially for anyone interested in Singapore and for great examples of essays that blend personal narrative and film/TV analysis.

Thanks Dad, who bought me this book for my birthday!

[Danny_reads · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a criminally underrated (and under-read) non-fiction essay collection!

This was such a well constructed collection that dealt with a lot of important topics. The collection mostly follows the author's experiences growing up as a queer, fat, brown girl in Singapore which, in turn, exposes larger, root problems such as: homophobia, fatphobia, censorship, trauma, and racism.

I absolutely adored how the author talked about her love and appreciation for films like The Shining, Doctor Sleep, and The Ring. I also learned a lot more about Singapore as a country.

My favorite essays in this collection were 'I Hope We Shine On', 'Becoming Monsters', and 'Black Boxes & Penguin Pulp'.

[Paige · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very good memoir in essays from a Singaporean queer writer. Many of these essays are told through the lens of horror movies. I'm not much of a horror person - not for any intellectual reasons, I'm just a coward - but for some reason I am drawn to nonfiction writing about horror. I get to hear about the horrifying plots and what they mean for people without actually having to be horrified. It's glorious.

The audio narration was done by the author herself, and it was quite good.

[Joanne Leow · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book —- both as a searing critique of growing up as a queer, radicalized person in Singapore who didn’t fit into conventional ideas of beauty, and for its sharp analysis of how horror gives us a new lens through which to understand power. There are quiet meditations on what has been lost in Singapore’s rapid development and keen observations of its authoritarian and heteronormative regime. There are also firsthand accounts of what it is like to make art in Singapore in the context of often absurd censorship. There is so much heart and honesty in this book, so many moments that resonated so deeply with me. A fantastic take on contemporary culture and a devastating and frank memoir.

[Branwen Sedai *of the Brown Ajah* · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Queer people have always found family in one another. Because our first experiences of family are often challenging at best and violent at worst, we become each other's parents, siblings, children. We relearn love from one another. We relearn belonging from one another. We learn that family is chosen and that blood runs thin. We choose each other over and over."

[Jessie (Zombie_likes_cake) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm sorry but I have to start this review with my usual rant about mis-marketing books because it does effect my reading experience and more likely than not will get the book a lower rating, I came here for different reasons after all. Thing is: De Rozario's writing is good, the topics are interesting. It was advertised as an essay collection (which this is) that mixes descriptions of her upbringing with Horror movies or rather analyzes her youth and coming-of-age through a Horror Movie lens. Of course I'd want to read that! I do understand while that decided to center the marketing around this aspect and it isn't a straight up lie just that only 5 of the 14 essays actually do that. I believe 2 other mention Horror in passing. For some that might be justified, I still felt catfished.

No surprised here: the essays that do the Horror Movie thing were phenomenal, exactly what I wanted. They are the standouts here, I'd argue even if you're not a fan yourself. But these 4 essays set themselves apart with the structure. The rest is good but a bit repetitive and in comparison too simple, too straightforward. We deal with a lot of topics that are all encompassed by De Rozario herself. Growing up in controlling Singapore with an even more controlling religious mother who, I kid you not, performed an exorcism on her. This fraught and ultimately estranged and distant relationship strings herself through these essays as does her experience of being a lesbian/ coming out in a country that frowns upon and even criminalizes homosexuality. She reflects on being a bigger body in a culture obsessed with thinness to the point that schools have programs about that. A lot of tough material is present but it makes the most splashes whenever she pares it with her love for Horror. Horror is such amazing genre to tackle dark and complex subjects, to give the mirrors and metaphors to dive deeper than simple descriptions ever could. I wish her editors had pushed her to expand on that. For me it left something behind whenever we moved back to a regular essay.

But I enjoyed the glimpses into life in Singapore, or Monster Island as De Rozario prefers to call it; a place we often associate with cleanliness and order but not unexpectedly that has a disturbing flipside. The more order a country seeks the more control it needs to control it needs to push its rules through. Especially with the Western World slipping more into authoritarian structures (with my current home USA at the forefront) this gained an additional disturbing undertone. This is a very solid memoir all I'm saying is that it could have been better if it stuck to its line!

My favorite essays: Salvation/ One Size Fits Smalls/ I Hope We Shine On/ My Year of Magic/ Becoming Monsters/ Where are you really from?

3.5*

[Lupita · Rating 4 out of 5]

Este es un libro de ensayos y parte memoir de Tania de Rozario, quien nació en Singapur y vive actualmente en Canadá. Me dio los mismos feelings de Nacida en 1982, pues retrata cómo los problemas sociales, culturales y políticos de su país afectan a sus ciudadanos; y en un ejercicio valiente, cómo le afectaron específicamente a ella.

Explora temas de los que se habla poco dentro y fuera de los confines de Singapur:

*El programa TAF para la pérdida de peso en escuelas, el cuál provocó una gran cantidad de TCAs, dismorfia y problemas de salud mental en niños y adolescentes.
*Las consecuencias de vivir bajo un régimen conservador siendo queer.
*La regulación de la natalidad: quién sí y quién no debía tener hijos, de acuerdo con los estímulos gubernamentales y la propaganda.
*Relaciona su vida con obras de horror como El aro, La maldición, The shining, porque claro que muchas procesamos traumas a través de ese tipo de contenido.
*El alcance de las leyes de Singapur que alcanzas a sus ciudadanos aunque vivan en otras regiones.
*Explora el rol de la figura femenina en el cine de horror, en las leyendas (de manera superficial pero bien logrado).

En ocasiones pareciera que se trata de una distopía en la que el gobierno tiene agencia en la vida privada de las personas, pues se trata de un modelo de gobierno que controla y vigila a sus ciudadanos a través de ellos mismos.

[Bbecca_marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you so much @bibliolifestyle and @harperperennial for my #gifted copy and the chance to review it honestly.

Dinner on Monster Island kept me engaged and it’s a short book, making it fast and easy to get through… but not for the faint of heart. It was beautifully written and it had me in my feelings, just not at all what I was expecting and not in a bad way. Also, I’m not sure what it was that I was expecting but either way, it’s a bit of a heavy read. It’s an insightful look into the author’s experience and overall I thought it was a good book with a lot of heart.

Happy reading!

[Lio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Powerful, painful, personal, poignant.

I highly recommend this to anyone, everyone.

There isn't a single miss in this collection of essays, which covers an array of topics in an approachable depth without losing track or focus. Best to read it for yourself, although you must be mindful of the severity of much of the subject matter, which handles topics such as suicide, facism, abuse, and more. Still unmissable.

[kimberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essays on De Rozario’s experience growing up overweight and gay in a fatphobic and homophobic Singapore, often drawing comparisons to things in pop culture—television and films, mostly. Simple, straightforward writing that remains unique and visceral.

[Amalfi Disla · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

Una visión interesante y muy distinta de Singapur 🇸🇬

[luce (cry bebè's back from hiatus) · Rating 3 out of 5]

review to come.

[Ernesto · Rating 5 out of 5]

Qué cosa tan magnífica. Tania de Rozario se ha marcado una colección de ensayos autobiográficos espeluznantes sobre la realidad LGTBQIA+ en Singapur, un país en el que el sexo entre hombres fue delito hasta 2022 (sí, has leído bien, dos mil veintidós). El libro arranca sin contemplaciones: dos meses antes de cumplir doce años, la autora fue exorcizada durante siete horas por su madre y unos compañeros de su iglesia evangelista para desterrar al demonio que la niña llevaba dentro, solo porque le gustaba vestir ropa masculina.

Algunos ensayos me han interesado menos, no porque sean flojos sino porque tratan temas tan universales (una adolescente a quien le gusta su compañera de colegio, por ejemplo), que siento que ya los he leído en otros sitios, mientras que los específicos sobre Singapur (la Isla de los Monstruos del título) me han presentado una realidad que me era tan ajena que no he podido dejar de leer. Merece mucho la pena leer el libro pausadamente, leyendo un ensayo y reflexionar sobre él antes de entrar con el siguiente. Además, me ha dado la ocasión de conocer la obra de Cyril Wong, un poeta singapurense del que me quedo con una cita extraordinaria que también resonó mucho a De Rozario: “I still feel like I’m afloat in a nightmare that no longer frightens me”.

Muy, muy recomendable.

[Emily Migliazzo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Honestly, grim. Singapore practices race-based slavery, violent homophobia, rampant racism, classism, xenophobia, and active anti-fat bias. Americans might feel right at home.


“Before this day, all desire was a passing phase…These people, what they think they have quelled, they have magnified” (12).

“Across the country, fat kids and teens became problems that needed to be solved, and Singapore, pragmatic as usual, was out to solve them” (15).

“To be a friend is to be a conspirator” (26).

“You can try to [queer people] disappear, but we find ourselves in one another again, and again, and again” (32).

“When you are different, you know early on, tripping over your own otherness as you walk out the door and into the world every morning” (52).

“…it was not the government that disappointed me—you cannot be disappointed by something you don’t believe in. What disappointed me was the people. The fact that all the things I consider deplorable and alarming—the overreach, the censorship, the homophobia, the violent and draconian punishments—seemed so permissible for so many of my fellow Singaporeans, who kept voting in the same government again and again. And the fact that this made me feel so alone” (153).

[Daniella · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyed these while I was reading them, and found it to be a really unique collection about queerness, belonging and religion. It was interesting to see De Rozario's perspective on Singapore as both their home and somewhere they suffered a lot.

I just don't really remember anything about it a few months on - I think what stood out to me the most was the stark division between rich and poor, and how things like Crazy Rich Asians has coloured Western ideas of Singapore as there isn't much representation otherwise. The treatment of migrant workers during COVID and how much of Singaporean society is based on race were also topics that were interesting to explore.

I would recommend picking it up and think it was solid - perhaps one to reread down the line and see how I feel on a second pass!

[himbeerbuch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Was für eine unheimlich interessante Essaysammlung! In kurzen, persönlichen Texten erzählt uns Tania De Rozario davon, wie sie als queere, brown und dicke Person in einem Staat aufgewachsen ist, der stark in die Persönlichkeitsrechte eingreift und queerfeindliche und rassistische Politik betreibt.
Sie bespricht in jedem Essay ein popkulturelles Produkt, meist Horrorfilme, die ihr als Aufhänger dienen, um Themen zu besprechen. Dabei lässt sie aber nie die politischen Umstände außer acht, die ihr und das Leben ihrer Community formen. Diese Mischung aus Fokus auf intimen Erzählungen, Popkultur, Kunst, Politik, Community und Solidarität mochte ich sehr.

Read Around the World: 🇸🇬 Singapur

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tania De Rozario’s Dinner on Monster Island is a powerful, deeply personal collection of essays that bridges the intimate and the universal. Through the lens of her life as a queer, brown girl growing up in Singapore, De Rozario invites readers into her world—one where difference is often seen as deviance, and where the most haunting monsters aren’t in movies but in family homes, classrooms, and communities. Blending memoir with cultural analysis, she masterfully weaves her experiences with horror film imagery and societal critique, offering a raw, honest exploration of identity, trauma, and resilience.

This collection left me feeling deeply moved and sharpened my awareness of how systems of power can manifest in the mundane and the monstrous alike. De Rozario’s writing is both lyrical and unflinching, leaving an ache of recognition and a spark of resistance against the forces that seek to define us.

[Alyssa · Rating 5 out of 5]

So thankful to read Tania’s work again. Her writing is raw, honest and hits harder than many other authors, especially in this book of essays rooted in my home and culture. It was an interesting experience to revisit some of my childhood experiences through her lens. In some cases, I felt very seen, in others I questioned my own acceptance of the things that happened around me.
“Conflict Circle” was my favourite and I think every single reader should read “Where Are You From?” at least twice.
I’ll be rereading her other work again now.

[Alexis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this collection about queerness, fatness, brownness and the troubles with the police state in Singapore, which I had never read much about. Tania is quite raw and honest in this book. She compares many things with monsters, and draws upon horror media to talk about life occurrences, including when she was exorcised by her mother at 12 years.

[bailey ◡̈]

i don’t rate memoirs but this was such a heart wrenching essay collection. i learned so much about singaporean history and the author did such a good job of winding together the stories of horror movies to real life: fiction vs reality.

[Wen-yi Lee · Rating 4 out of 5]

the first half of this, which circles around monstrous femininity, bodies, queer girlhood, anger, hunger, and horror movies, set in 80s-90s singapore, will echo in me for a long time

[Carolyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nie pamiętam kiedy ostatnio wyszeptałam tyle razy „ja pierdole” podczas czytania

[amita the cat · Rating 4 out of 5]

great memoir abt growing up gay and plus sized in singapore. i learned so much abt a country i was previously not educated on.

[Kathryn Tso · Rating 5 out of 5]

this was a phenomenal collection

[Ashley Daviau · Rating 5 out of 5]

This little collection of essays just spoke to every part of my being. Fat = check. Queer = check. Horror obsessed = check. I was truly blown away by this collection, at times it felt like the author was speaking about my very own experiences and it felt so damn good to be seen. I cannot recommend these essays enough!

[Ana Hein · Rating 3 out of 5]

Important and impactful, but the writing wasn't my style

[Annie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.25 stars

I have mixed thoughts about this collection of essays, as they are mixed in quality. On the negative side, I realized after a few essays that the author herself is not the kind of person that I find particularly compelling, and as such my interest waned when she wrote about her personal matters. But the biggest problem with this book, in my opinion, is the constant use of media as parallels for the topics of the essays. That in itself wouldn't be an issue if not for the execution: multiple essays are comprised of (mostly horror) movie summaries that sometimes take up to half their length only to make a parallel to real life that could have so easily been established with no more than a paragraph. The essays in which this framing device is not used, or used very minimally, ended up being the best ones in my eyes.

On the positive side, the author gives us an informed portrait of Singapore from her perspective as someone who both spent most of her life there but also left. From a queer mixed-race woman who was considered fat by government policies, it's overwhelmingly not a flattering portrait. Singapore is not a country I know that much about, so I was interested in learning more about it through the eyes of someone who grew up there.

There were also some quotes that made me pause and underline them in the text. Here is my favourite, that I keep thinking about several days after reading:

The thing about being estranged from almost all of your biofamily is that you don't really know what you are predisposed to--medically or otherwise. Everything is abstraction and conjecture. How much is you? How much is some invisible ghost lurking beneath your skin? Does it matter which demons you inherited and which are yours when they haunt you all the same?

All in all, I would recommend this book if it seems interesting to you, but with somewhat tempered expectations.

[Aida · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh man oh MAN. The sense of kinship this book brought was so unexpected. Like sure sure when you share some IDs with an author you may expect some overlaps, but the degrEEEE of the overlaps and the specificity of certain experiences I didn’t expect to be mirrored? (SAMARAAAAA) Oof! What a gem. Spanning a variety of topics, this collection of essays was a joy to read and see myself reflected in, though this also brought the sorrows and difficulties when the resonance was based on shared painful experiences. So glad I picked it up. 🙏🏼

[Vaughn Lach · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to Edelweiss and HarperCollins for a digital review copy of this book!

Wow. What a deeply poetic and emotional collection. What you can expect: inventive and unique essays full of pop culture references and commentary on Singaporean society as well as a powerful and vulnerable account of growing up queer and multiracial in Singapore. The result is a sharp, gripping, and even haunting book that will stay with me for a long time.

[Sofia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Some essays I really liked, and others I found boring and didn't like. I do appreciate that the author reflects quite a bit on how her experiences mirror what is happening in the world around her but I felt like the quality varied. I think two stars is generous but again there were some 4* essays... just not enough. This book did not work for me.