Review of Christelow's Five Little Monkeys

A profound work of imaginative fiction. I was in tears when, at the zenith of the story, the work’s didactic force crumbled beneath the trembling bounces of the mother on the bed; has she not learnt she will bump her head!!!

Another damning tale of life collapsing to the ultimate and constant negation: stupidity! HOW MANY MONKEYS MUST BUMP THEIR HEAD FOR THE MONKEYS TO KNOW THEY CANNOT JUMP ON THE BED!!!

Is the seduction of barbarically hedonistic acts — in this case BED BOUNCEY BOUNCEY — enough to triumph over the veneration of reason? Or is it the opposite: must we stop employing reason and give in to this radical humanistic jubilance? BOUNCEY BOUNCEY!

Is the mother BOUNCING BOUNCING on the bed the reincarnation of the Dionysian? Is bouncy bouncy on bed Nietzsche’s ever so coveted Socrates playing music?!?

It thus seems redundantly evident: the doctor is the villain. That totalitarian Platonic figure, diagnosing joy through the ideological shades of virtue. The doctor, in looking for health, assumes the argon of humanity to be health and continued vitality. The monkeys bouncing on the bed are vitality; they are the imminent Geist of De Anima.

In conclusion, this reading frames the work as arguing for the Metaphysical ought to BOUNCEY BOUNCEY ON THE BED, AND BUMP YOUR HEAD!!