Concrete Monsters is like a gladiator fight where we sit by and watch as despair makes good people turn bad until they choke on their own blood. Because we have always enjoyed to gawk at reminders of how fortunate we are that we can curl up in our beds and read fiction rather than inspire it.
...300 pages of a young man's downfall, and I was complaining that I fell off my bike. Concrete Monsters reminds of Der Untergang : a charismatic man, full of wit and loved by everyone, bites off more than he can chew, has an extremely emotional meltdown, and then he disappoints his father.
Questionable consent, Jesus Christ, and Zionism have rarely been major parts of the same story and you have to ask yourself how ZZ comes up with it. Or perhaps you shouldn't.
Reading Concrete Monsters is like walking down a dark flight of stairs drunk. You know you're going to hurt yourself, and yet you keep on stumbling. Like Nadir.
Engaging, well-rounded characters take you on an emotional roller coaster ride that you really want to get off of. And then get on again.
The perfect gift for that annoyingly happy person who needs to tune it down a notch.