What a treat it is: funny, lively and convivial, constantly in argument with itself . . . Dederer’s tone and willingness to be wrong and confused, along with her seductive, intimate style, bring the subject to new life . . . how rare and nourishing this sort of roaming thought is and what a joy to read. How moving, too, the underpinning adoration that allows the difficult questions to be asked. You are left wishing Dederer would apply her generous mind to every other niggling unfinished hang-up that haunts our culture

In a world that wants you to think less – that wants, in fact, to do your thinking for you – Monsters is that rare work, beyond a book, that reminds you of your sentience. It’s wise and bold and full of the kind of gravitas that might even rub off

Personal, open-hearted and intellectually playful

Enthralling, challenging and downright unsettling . . . smart and provocative . . . Monsters is a vital book for our times, and it offers so much rich food for thought

Thrilling

A properly honest and passionate book that will help set this debate alive

An exhilarating, shape-shifting exploration of the perilous boundaries between art and life. This timely book inhabits both the marvellous and the monstrous with generosity and wit

Exhilarating

Excellent . . . Frank . . . A work of deep thought and self-scrutiny that honors the impossibility of the book’s mission

Monsters is an incredible book, the best work of criticism I have read in a very long time. It’s thrillingly sharp, appropriately doubtful, and more fun than you would believe, given the pressing seriousness of the subject matter. Claire Dederer’s mind is a wonder, her erudition too; I now want her to apply them to everything I’m interested in so I can think about them differently

A hot and urgent monologue structured around a problem without a solution . . . The conclusion to this immersive and doubtlessly important book is both tentative and bold

Part memoir, part treatise, and all treat . . . nimble, witty . . . her exquisitely reasoned vindication of Lolita brought tears to my eyes . . . This is a book that looks boldly down the cliff of roiling waters below and jumps right in, splashes around playfully, isn’t afraid to get wet. How refreshing

A timely interrogation of the eternal question: can you separate the art from the artist? It showed me my bookshelves, my record collection, the pictures and films I love – even myself – in a new, unflinching light. I’m pressing it into the hands of everyone I know.

Nuanced and exploratory . . . With verve and empathy, she asks if we can – if we should – separate the work from the biography

Humming with originality, clarity and humour . . . The book’s questions might be zeitgeisty, but it is far more satisfying than the circular arguments about cancel culture that abound in Twitter threads. It sketches a Venn diagram of creativity and depravity before plunging into its intersection – dangerous water, but one I emerged from reinvigorated . . .

Dederer asks, with witty self-deprecation, how we should respond to art from artists guilty of morally squalid deeds . . . Instead of rushing to the barricades of ongoing culture wars, Dederer offers – and enacts – a way of thinking that acknowledges the ever growing diversity of intellectual and moral life

Sane and nuanced – even refreshingly brave. This is no dry compendium of intellectual arguments about artistic meaning, but rather an emotional journey through audience experience told with engaging chattiness from an insider’s perspective

An incredibly nuanced and human work

In this book you may not find the answer, but you will find heaps of wit and wisdom – on monsters, victims, hate, love, and the big grey area in between

Clever and provocative

A lively, personal exploration of how one might think about the art of those who do bad things . . . It’s such a pleasure to stretch out in a big, nuanced conversation about a topic that can be so easily flattened into wrong and right, good and bad; it’s a pleasure to be asked to think

Dederer’s exploration offers up no easy answers, but the journey is never less than illuminating

Monsters is a dazzling book . . . If you too love the work of Polanski – or Picasso, Hemingway, Allen, Davis, and so on – sticking with Dederer on her curlicued journey might be the best gift you can give yourself. The final chapter feels its way toward a conclusion that burns clean, though it hurts a little too

Vital, exhilarating . . . Although Dederer has done her homework, her style is breezy and confessional . . . Monsters leaves us with Dederer’s passionate commitment to the artists whose work most matters to her, and a framework to address these questions about the artists who matter most to us

An exciting read . . . I was shaken to my core

Perceptive and engaging

Monsters is both a nimble exploration of fan culture and a spirited call to action

A blisteringly erudite and entertaining read. Dederer holds the moral ambiguity of her subject matter, landing her arguments with precision and flair. It’s a book that deserves to be widely read and will provoke many conversations

Dederer provides a fascinating new way of looking at how the work and lives of problematic artists are bound together. She poses so many topical questions, plays with so many pertinent ideas, that I’m still thinking about this book long after I finished

Conversational, clear and bold without being strident . . . Dederer showcases her critical acumen . . . In this age of moral policing, Ms. Dederer’s instincts to approach such material with an open mind – and heart – are laudable

An invigorating, engrossing, and deeply intelligent book. By guiding us through her critical dilemmas, Dederer performs an act of generosity: she allows the reader the space and encouragement to interrogate their own beliefs. Monsters made me laugh, argue, tear up, and most importantly, think

Excellent. Erudite and unpretentious, ruthlessly honest, a searching self portrait as well as moral inventory of good artists doing bad things

Thoughtful

Punchy and sharp . . . Exploring her own relationship to art made by shitty men, the book moves beyond tedious cancel culture discourse to interrogate ethics, art and fandom with nuance and compassion

The book is tangled and fascinating, chasing down arguments and questions that can’t always be easily resolved. Dederer’s shrewd, vivid descriptions of movies and books suggest just how much they mean to her and how deeply any sacrifices on the altar of contemporary sexual ethics might cut

[Dederer] just keeps getting better and smarter . . . it’s absolutely exhilarating to read the work of someone so willing to crumple up her own argument like a piece of paper, throw it away and start anew. She’s constantly challenging her own assumptions, more than willing to find flaws in her own thinking

I flat-out admire her book and want to share it with my students. As a thinker, Dederer is smart, informed, nuanced and very funny

The rare polemic that’s full of greedy love for the good stuff in this world, Monsters is an expansion of Dederer’s instant classic Paris Review essay from 2017, ‘What Do We Do with the Art of Monstrous Men.’ With a larger canvas, she lets both her cast of monsters and our culpability grow, and manages to one-up herself over and over again. Cooly pensive on an overheated subject, Dederer writes powerfully about art’s ability to move us, teach us, and entrap us

Monsters is like having the best version of the “good art by bad people” conversation. Dederer writes like your wisest, most compassionate friend, helping to guide you to your own thoughts and generously offering her own. I loved it

Slyly funny, emotionally honest, and full of raw passion, Claire Dederer’s important book about what to do when artists you love do things you hate breaks new ground, making a complex cultural conversation feel brand new. Monsters elegantly takes on far more than ‘cancel culture’ – it offers new insights into love, ambition, and what it means to be an artist, a citizen, and a human being

She asks important questions . . . Subtle and adroit

Dauntless, cannily reasoned and barn-burning . . . Monsters isn’t just the book that art-loving feminists have been waiting for; it’s the book that anyone determined to live an intentional life owes it to themselves to read

Nuanced and incisive . . . Dederer’s candid appraisal of her own relationship with troubling artists and the lucidity with which she explores what it means to love their work open fresh ways of thinking about problematic artists. Contemplative and willing to tackle the hard questions head on, this pulls no punches

Sharp and unflinching . . . In Monsters, Dederer produces an entirely original and self-aware contemplation on the psychological reverberations of living in a biographical age

Bringing erudition, emotion, and a down-to-earth style to this pressing problem, Dederer presents her finest work to date

While Dederer sets out to write about the art of monsters, she ended up writing about what it means to be human

Monsters has crystalline intellectual force . . . Dederer has fashioned a book of depth and candor about what it is to be heartbroken by an artist whose work we also happen to love . . . So on point is Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma about the historical moment in which we currently find ourselves, you want to carry it around with you and whip it out at every bar or dinner party

Smart

Spectacular . . . A work of pop-culture criticism that’s fun to read, Monsters will for sure help us have deeper conversations around the perennial question of whether it’s possible and OK to separate the work from the art and what it really means to be a fan. This is a book we plan to return to again and again – and to press on all our friends

Monsters is a good companion, working away at the problem from various perspectives, always explaining patiently what it is trying to do and keeping it interesting by participating more energetically than just steepling the fingers

Despite the heavy subject matter, Monsters is neither rant nor sermon. Dederer is not only an incisive researcher and writer, she’s also conversational, approachable and funny . . . Monsters is a worthy addition to contemporary literary criticism, but more than that, it’s a very enjoyable book about a thorny, elusive subject

Profoundly cathartic. The book feels simultaneously like having the deepest, artiest conversation with the smartest people you know and like having an intense shit-talking session with your closest friends