Review of Monster

Storytelling is a force, distorting life and reality. The picture book shows how stories can define and destroy individuals. This myth is a weapon, as myths always are, a reflection of collective and inherent fears. Myths, intertwining with personal narratives contribute to the making of a monster. The nameless monster—a mythological blueprint of a becoming. Johan is a being defined by absence. By believing one can become it, Johan’s belief in the narrative of a destructive empty entity, by the will of it, must turn into myth come-true. The cause of evil is not to be found at the end of the story, and it isnot confined to a single antagonist; it emerges from our nature, societal structures, and the narratives we create. How do we fight evil without becoming evil ourselves? Evil is not something that can be defeated, so it must be understood. Kinderheim 511—a great example of Arendt’s concept of the banality of evil perpetuated by the means of modern society and those on the heights of it. Johan forces questions that will never really be answered. Nature or nurture? Nina, who went through so much trauma, did not become a monster, so is evil an inherent predisposition in some people? Nina’s struggle is a struggle of ours as well, because it is determining whether her past defines her. Johan—a truly well-written character, with the discovery of his personal history, leaves ambiguity about his monstrosity. But what is suggested is that both nature and nurture play a role in the making of a monster, which seems to be the most comprehensible answer to all questions of human evil.

Our history is easily malleable, shaped by the stories we tell and are told by others. Beyond individual lives, historical narratives have always been obscured, the Kinderheim 511 experiments mirroring our very recent history of bureaucratic evil. Another thread through the narrative is trauma, which echoes through the story, but Monster again shows the great force of human resistance, as healing is, indeed, possible. Despite the ability of “large” narratives to corrupt, Urosawa’s protagonist tells the tale of profound resistance to nihilism by keeping himself in his own moral narrative. Johan’s killing to prove that our lives are meaningless could only be countered by Tenma’s belief in the sanctity of life, and the means of it, evil is at least in some way, proven to be a fault. His resistance and search for Johan is proof of life not being dictated by a grotesque script.

“Killing people is simple. All you have to do is forget the taste of sugar.”