What Makes A Monster?

 

Source: https://www.northernlightsuk.co.uk/2019/03/04/how-godzilla-1954-was-ruined-by-america/

Hi everyone! This essay revisits a piece I wrote last year. As a fan of horror and media analysis, I’m fascinated by how monsters reveal deeper truths about who we fear—and why. Hope you enjoy!

“Monsters are tragic beings. They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy, they are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy.” ~ Ishirō Honda

What Makes a Monster?

Across cultures, wherever there are stories, there are monsters. Throughout human history, monsters have stood in for what humanity abhors. They represent our collective fears around death, disease, and even each other. At its core, the figure of the monster often embodies what philosophers and social theorists call ‘The Other’—that which is seen as different, alien, or outside the accepted norms. Historically, this ‘otherness’ has been used to justify fear, exclusion, and even violence against marginalized groups. Their vanquishment is seen as a triumph over evils perceived to threaten the status quo. As film has evolved to provide a visual medium of storytelling, monsters have leapt from literature to the silver screen. Many films frame their monsters as historically marginalized groups, maintaining systems of oppression. Associating inhumanness through differences in skin color, body shape, and language was effective in the dehumanization of many oppressed groups. However, as more marginalized identities begin to take up space in our social consciousness as themselves, we have begun to ask: Who gets to be heroic? And more importantly, what is monstrous? Movie monsters have increasingly come to reflect the lived experiences of those deemed ‘other’ by society—people of color, women, and members of the LGBT community. In many cases, their cinematic portrayal reveals the injustices these groups face, and the growing empathy directed toward them.

 

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankenstein_in_popular_culture

                While sympathizing with monsters is not a novel concept, it has greatly evolved over the years. One of the turning points of this idea was in the early 20th century. Universal Studios introduced the sympathetic monster to the Hollywood zeitgeist with its 1931 film, Frankenstein, adapted from Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel. Born from electricity and cadavers, Frankenstein’s Creature is a metaphor for both unchecked scientific ambition and society’s fear of the unknown. Despite his monstrous appearance and superhuman strength, the Creature is quite infantile in his behavior. He is essentially a baby stumbling through life. His own creator abandons and reviles him, condemning him to a life of loneliness and scorn. There are a few deviations the film takes. In the film, the Creature remains infantile up until his supposed death. He has no awareness of his strength or his undead appearance. Throughout the film, the audience sees the Creature playing with Maria, a little girl. Monstrosity is thrust upon this character by outside forces, allowing the audience to better understand his situation. He is capable of kindness, when met with kindness. Though perceived as inhuman by society, the Creature is not inhumane. He only responds with anger when met with violent rejection from society. While a manifestation of fears around death and scientific progress, the Creature is ultimately a victim of humanity’s fear of what they don’t understand. This dynamic echoes how queer people are often vilified—not for what they do, but for who they are. Much like Frankenstein’s Creature, queerness is framed by some as unnatural, misunderstood, and threatening to social norms. While this wasn’t Shelley’s original intent, the parallels remain striking.

Source: https://www.britannica.com/topic/King-Kong-film-1933

                One of the most enduring pop culture figures from the last century that best embodies this shift is King Kong. In the 1933 film, Kong embodies the geographic monster and the fear of the unknown. Particularly the fear of “dark continents” and its inhabitants. He is an unintentional caricature of Black men and the perceived danger they pose towards white women. Unlike in most creature features though, Kong is not the invading figure. White American sailors and filmmakers infringe upon his domain, disrupting the natural order. He is taken back to the US in chains, and forcibly put on display for the entertainment of others. His death is framed as ultimately beneficial and the inevitable outcome of nature clashing with our increasing industrial society. As seen throughout history, “​​The monsterisation of real human beings takes place only when the relationship between people involves a struggle for power. We are all familiar with the tendency to treat wartime enemies as inhuman: the First World War British propaganda represents the German ‘Hun’ as not only ethnically un-European, but as physically brutish, bestial even. The destiny of the monster is to be exterminated by the hero; it is not only okay to slay the brute but morally virtuous. The monster is coming for you and everyone you love, it is Us or Them” (The Politics of Monsters). Much like European colonizers, the sailors in King Kong attempt to assert power over Skull Island and its main inhabitant. Kong’s capture and subsequent display reveals an attempt to establish dominance from his captors. They sensationalize Kong as “the eighth wonder of the world”. It allows audiences to ignore Kong’s fear and anger as a captive animal, and view him as a wild beast in need of taming. The latest iteration of this character flips this dynamic on its head. In the 2017 film Kong: Skull Island, the titular character is returned to his natural habitat, with humanity positioned as the invading force. Kong now acts as an ecological defender. A force of nature that cannot and should not be tamed. This transformation of Kong to a semi-antagonist to an almost Marvel-like action hero reflects society’s shifting perceptions of those deemed monstrous. We now see misunderstood creatures like Kong receive redemption.

Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4262980/

                One should not have to be the pinnacle of heroism to deserve dignity and respect. As marginalized identities have been dissected from lenses other than white patriarchal ones, the complexities of being “different” and monstrous have expanded. One figure that captures this is Godzilla. He emerged from the depths in 1954, embodying Japanese fears of nuclear power and its long-lasting consequences. In the American Monsterverse franchise, Godzilla is depicted as a protector of Earth and its natural resources. Humanity is the one forced to reconsider our role alongside the kaiju. However, Japan has reclaimed its reptilian mascot in recent years. The most sympathetic iteration of Godzilla appears in the 2016 Shin Godzilla. This iteration of Godzilla is a constantly mutating marine lizard in immense pain due to nuclear fission. Godzilla’s constant mutation forces the creature into a cycle of perpetual destruction and pain. While it can be temporarily subdued, it cannot be permanently destroyed. Humankind must learn to live with this creature of destruction, especially since we are responsible for its creation. 
                This idea of enforced ‘otherness’ and control extends beyond fictional monsters to real societal practices. For example, the Tignon laws of 1786 condemned African-American women for their natural hair, forcing them to wear headscarves. Established under Spanish colonial rule by Governor Esteban Rodriguez Miró, these laws dictated that women of African descent could no longer wear their hair uncovered or adorned in public. They were forced to wrap their heads in scarves to prevent receiving treatment deemed more suited towards white women. One cannot change one’s hair texture, body shape, skin color, or facial features without causing harm to their natural forms. We must recognize that those who defy societal standards deserve not condemnation, but understanding. Their nonconformity isn’t in their control and they do not deserve to be maligned for society’s narrow expectations.

               Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5580390/

                Today, we are witnessing a reclamation of identity, where communities once maligned are reimagining their place in culture—not as monsters, but as heroes, lovers, and complex protagonists. The 21st century, marked by increasing awareness and advocacy for marginalized communities, has become one of the most progressive eras in cultural representation. The 2017 film The Shape of Water presents perhaps the ultimate sympathetic monster. The director, Guillermo del Toro, draws inspiration from the Gill-man from Creature from the Black Lagoon. Similar to Kong, the Gill-man was a geographic monster whose home was invaded by scientists and is killed at the end of the film. The Shape of Water subverts this as it centers on mute cleaning woman Elise in 1962 Baltimore and the discrimination she faces. Throughout the film, she develops a relationship with a captured amphibian creature. While they both perceive each other as “different” at first, they soon bond over their shared exclusion. These two characters, maligned by society, one for her disability, the other for his inhuman biology, find companionship and ultimately love.
                Real acceptance means crossing the divides we erect between us and those different from us, embracing those differences and recognizing our shared humanity. If we can learn to see both the tragedy and the humanity in them, perhaps we are closer to doing the same for one another.

Works Cited

Hughes, Karl. “Historical Context of Monsters as Metaphors - Inspired Quill Publishing.” Www.inspired-Quill.com, 31 Mar. 2023, www.inspired-quill.com/blog/guides-resources/historical-context-of-monsters-as-metaphors/.

Johnson, Elise. “The Ideological Monster: Horror’s Social Purpose.” Wpunj.edu, 2018, www.wpunj.edu/cohss/departments/language-literature-culture-and-writing/programs-and-events/wac/student-spotlight/elise-johnson.html.

Revenge, Caliban’s, et al. “The Politics of Monsters.” Rs21 Revolutionary Socialism in the 21st Century, 3 Nov. 2019, revsoc21.uk/2019/11/03/the-politics-of-monsters/.