Monster Mash

In deep, dark places there are monsters. And while not all of them stand on two legs, it is hard to resist reading them as if they were misshapen people with exaggerated vices, angry, malicious and hungry. One might think of ghosts as monsters, starving for breath.

By humanizing the horribly alien we draw it nearer to us, making possible the dread comparison: what that does, people do too; what became of it might become of me.

What are we doing, though, when we call a person ‘monster’? when, instead of pulling it towards us, we push one of us into the position of being one of them? Is this a punishment? Withdrawing the recognition of humanity sounds like a punishment. Replacing it with a monstrosity that is interesting only insofar as it partakes of humanity is less punishing than than it is confused.

Turning people into monsters sounds more like denial: what that does, I could never do. This is not confused; it is dishonest.

Here’s an idea: let’s stop pretending there are deep, dark places inside of us, indeed that any part of a human’s being is permanently closed, unavailable to description and light. This will not redeem the faithless, nor rescue anyone from a criminal pit. It will rid us of monsters, though.