The narrator in Lena Steffinger's picture book "Monsteroma" has a pretty great father.

He is usually in a good mood, sings, plays and can bake cakes.

He taught his daughter how to argue well and how to apologize afterwards.

But as it is: You can also pass on things that you don't quite stick to yourself.

And so, contrary to all advice, the father has not settled a dispute for years – with his mother.

He calls her "Monsteroma" in front of his daughter, and every year when September – and with it his mother's birthday – approaches, he gets in a bad mood.

His daughter doesn't know what exactly is so terrible about her grandmother.

A good opportunity to let your imagination run wild: "What it looks like

my monster granny?

Does she have claws and can spit fire?”

Anna Vollmer

Editor in the “Germany and the World” department.

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As it turns out, neither.

Actually, the monster is a normal woman who just has a pretty tense relationship with her son.

Which, we hear, is supposed to happen in the best of families.

And because the granddaughter is not a son who is carrying around the baggage of a complicated relationship that has lasted for years, the grandmother doesn't think it's that bad.

And even the father has to admit: "Maybe monster mothers are not necessarily monster grandmas."

It is a very everyday constellation that Lena Steffinger is talking about here – which doesn't necessarily make it easier.

Because how do you show such a conflict in a picture book in which you can't go into lengthy explanations?

For example with short sentences, small tips: Here the father and daughter are sitting at grandma's for coffee (mother didn't even come because of a headache), and the daughter says: "Dad made the cake himself." Grandma replies simply: "Aha." And then adds: "The cherries could be a bit juicier." Fortunately, the illustrator knows that there is actually nothing more to add because the whole drama is already in that one comment.

Lena Steffinger studied psychology, illustration and graphic storytelling - apparently a pretty good combination for making clever and sophisticated picture books.

Demanding because we only learn what is really important between the lines and the author believes her readers are capable of the complexity of family relationships.

For example, we can only guess that the father and the monster grandma still have a relationship despite a nasty argument, because the narrator, when she and her father are standing in front of grandma's house in a garden full of roses, simply says: "Dad loves roses .” And because a little later we see on the illustrations that in the dining room of the monster grandma the dad is grinning from the wall with his striped shirt.

In general, the wonderful, funny illustrations!

They do not reflect the text, but complement it and sometimes also tell small parallel stories: For example, in grandma's wondrous garden, the carrots are chattering with each other.

It is the drawings that, inspired by the imagination of their narrator, bring humor to a story in which not much actually happens.

While father and daughter are standing in front of the house and waiting for grandma to open the door, they show us what could be hiding inside: maybe a group of happy monster grannies who have met to play cards?

As charming as they look, we can actually already imagine that the monsters that are the subject of this article can't be all that terrible.

We will never know what happened between father and grandma.

And it's better that way.

Older readers will be able to add their own conflicts.

And younger ones might recognize one of those wondrous situations in this story, in which the behavior of the older ones puzzles them: What do the parents have against grandpa, grandma, aunt, who you actually always thought were nice?

Back from the trip, the family eats the rest of the cake: "Mom fills her stomach.

'The cherries are really delicious,' she says, clicking her tongue.

Luckily her headaches are gone.”

Lena Steffinger: "Monsteroma"

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Kunstanstifter Verlag, Mannheim 2022. 28 p., hardcover, 20 euros.

From 4 years