Monster
by Brendan Sullivan
The winds blew and the sands moved, swirling to create beauty in the midst
of cruelty. The sun burned as it did every day, melting the bones and the
soul. Piercing everything, the cruel pitiless heat, killed everything but
the toughest, most hardened of all organisms. In the midst of this there was
paradise, at least it was paradise compared to everything around it. The community
had no name, needed no name because nothing existed in this desert to rival
it. It needed no identification because it was a solitary figure, an experiment
in both location and population. This community wasn’t a simple colony
in the desert but rather an advanced civilization created to be the perfect
society. It was found in the midsts of the waste, rather ironic.
The colony was founded to create a utopian society, or at least what this
generation defined as a utopian society. A community where everyone was genetically
altered so as to have no fear, no jealousy, no greed, or any quality considered
to be standards today. Pandora had never opened her box, and the qualities
that plague us all weren’t found within this town boundary. It was a
complete success, something that had the scientists patting themselves on
their backs. Perfection was finally conceived, a community that lived in perfect
peace and harmony. It merely needed a figure to act as the governor.
Theseus Felix, hero of the government and the people. A distinguished military
career, he had served as the ruler of the free world, loved by the masses,
and now considered retirement. They told him “what better place to retire
than a perfect community, where you can live the rest of your life without
worry.” Without any hesitation he took the post, it made sense to him
and why wouldn’t it? What better place to live than a utopia.
Theseus was a hero. He had saved millions in his service as
a General and had brought down countless corrupt regimes in the name of the
government. On his way to the utopia he had signal handedly saved a town by
giving them his own emergency rations. This was the kind of man Theseus was,
a great man.
This brings us back to the present. Theseus had just come into
town amidst the shouts of praise and joy from its inhabitants. It was a great
day, but then again what day wasn’t great. Theseus was shown his house,
his office, and his administrators, and then he went to bed. A long day of
traveling in the wastes will tire any man, especially if he is in the twilight
of his life.
It was a beautiful day as our hero awoke, cloudless day, a perfect temperature,
everything regulated by the climate controls of the community. A revolutionary
new technology, something that Theseus appreciated very much as he began his
morning ritual. About an hour later he was in his office, prepared for the
work that goes along with leadership roles. Yet it never came, no problems
in the budget, or bungles with the civil laborers. Theseus knew he job was
meant to be an easy one, yet never thought it was merely a figurehead position.
Why then was he angry? After a life of toil and struggle he was finally given
the peace he desired. He was just adapting he told himself, he was still becoming
used to his new surroundings. He decided to lay back and take nap.
The alarm rang telling him the work day was finally over. He
had slept through the whole day, he felt ashamed and embarrassed, avoiding
his subordinates as he left his building. Upon returning to his house, Theseus
decided to meet the neighbors, get to know the people he would be living next
to. He knocked once and the door was opened by a man in his early forties.
His wife and two children were next to him, smiling at the strange man at
their door. They invited him in and bade him to stay for dinner for they were
having guests over. Since he was the newest member to the community, everyone
would love to meet him. Theseus agreed, looking forward to getting to know
the people he governed.
The guests arrived in droves, all different yet similar; this
is what genetic engineering will give you thought Theseus. The party wasn’t
anything special; everyone knew each other and introduced themselves to Theseus
in a customary fashion. He was a garbage man, she was a secretary, and he
worked in the climate control center. It didn’t really matter much,
they all had the same ideas, didn’t argue or debate, but were content
with life as it was. Actually thought Theseus, they weren’t content;
contentment signified acceptance, as if someone made the mental choice between
careers or lives. These people never made that choice, not because it wasn’t
given to them, but because it never occurred to them. These people were totally
unlike him, yet he should look on them as perfection.
A loud crash startled all the party goers; it came from the
living room and sounded like broken class. Theseus rushed in, and saw a girl
lying on the floor with a horrendous gash in her leg. She had tripped on the
carpet and fallen into the punch bowl; which had proceeded to shatter and
cut up her left leg. Blood flowed everywhere and the girl couldn’t get
off the floor. Theseus was horrified; he began looking for something to stop
the bleeding. Then he stopped, nobody was milling around this girl, everyone
was acting as if nothing had happened at all. A new punch bowl was brought
out and the old one was picked up and thrown away, the girl meanwhile sat
there and calmly picked the glass shards out of her wound. Theseus couldn’t
move or think, he just stared at what was happening. This was a disaster wasn’t
it, someone was injured, and someone needed to be saved. Nobody needed saving
though, the girl didn’t seem to care if anyone helped her. The partygoers
didn’t seem to mind her bleeding all over the floor. Whether she lived
or died didn’t matter, there were hundreds of others who were as perfect
as her. Theseus grabbed his coat and left, hating everyone at that party and
in this godforsaken place.
He was a hero, someone who saved those who needed saving, people
who didn’t have the power to fight for themselves, people that would
have died or suffered without him. He had seen death and pain, but what he
saw that night bothered him more than anything in his past. This girl didn’t
care, didn’t want to be saved. She didn’t feel the pain and even
if she did it wasn’t an emotion that registered. Was that perfection,
when pain, fear, or death holds no sway, the ultimate ignorance? It didn’t
make sense, his life wasn’t to create this, this wasn’t humanity,
and wasn’t what existed in the future. These thoughts plagued him as
he drifted off to sleep.
Theseus awoke late the next morning he lay in bed before the
incessant buzzing of his alarm caused him to finally get up. By the time he
came to his office it was already time for lunch. Theseus spent a large part
of the week on this schedule till finally he didn’t bother showing up
at all. He would awake and spend his days in his house or on his lawn, reading
or watching his neighbors. It became something of an obsession for him, locked
in this paradise. His days were spent like this; his nights spent questioning
what his place was and his past. Over time he became convinced that this society
needs a monster that could be hated, something that embodied everything that
he stood against. To regain what he had, he needed something to destroy, something
he could fight. His life was distinguished by mayhem; only in mayhem could
he find himself again.
Where could a monster exist in a society designed to destroy the monstrous.
When a girl can’t feel pain or anguish after maiming herself where then
could he create something to fight? The community was surrounded by the desert,
a place where nothing existed. There were no beasts or mercenaries, no warlords
or artillery. There were only the perfect humans and he. Theseus must then
become the monster, nothing else could.
He tore through the house, looking for a weapon, something to
inspire fear, something to fight against. He felt inspired for the first time
since coming; finally there was something that he alone could do, something
that showed purpose, existence. He wasn’t a clone that felt nothing
but happiness, enjoyed his job, life and family. He was their protector and
destroyer, the extremes in a society that had none. He found something, and
old rifle, given as a present from his troops. Only one bullet lay in the
antique case, this was enough.
For the first time in a month, Theseus went into his office.
No one noticed of course since it wasn’t a concern whether he was there
or not. Today however Theseus would use one of his rare powers given to him.
He called an assembly of the people, starting at 2 in the afternoon. Work
would stop and everyone would gather in the town square. This is where Theseus
would save them all.
At 2 the bells rang and the factories and offices closed. People
streamed out of their jobs, not happy to be out of work but still curious
to see what was happening. Once the square was filled Theseus stepped upon
the podium, looking upon the amassed people.
He spoke” As you know I am acting governor Theseus Felix.
Upon being given this duty as governor I have only looked out for your interest
as the people. What we live in is a perfect society, an experiment of what
the future can hold. I fought for this, this ultimate peace, this conditioning
against evil; it was something that I believed in strongly. Yet it is a lie,
you are all failures. What exists here isn’t utopia it is hell, something
that is more alien than it is human. You aren’t perfect humans, your
shadows of the society I left. This is why I will show salvation to you all,
free this society from boundaries placed on it. As the only outsider amongst
you I can see this, and know that what I do is only to help us all.”
With this he took out his ancient rifle and fired into the crowd.
A man in the front fell to the ground and didn’t stir; the bullet had
taken his life. The crowd slowly moved away from the prostrate form on the
ground. Mumbling amongst themselves till finally a man moved to the body to
examine it. He looked at the bullet wound then at Theseus. He then addressed
the crowd.
“The metal from that object appears to have pierced his heart. His death
tells us to be more careful around that object. It is good that our governor
showed us the danger of it.”
The crowd then cheered Theseus and went back to their jobs,
leaving the corpse on the ground to wait for the sanitation crews. Theseus
went down to the corpse, scared at what he had done. Never had he taken a
life that wasn’t an enemy, never had he killed a civilian. He was a
hero and they only kill those who deserve it. As much as he tried to convince
himself of this, the corpse was a monument to his fallacy. When he approached
closer he saw the body was that of his neighbor, the man who had invited him
to the party after his inauguration. The man had a family, a wife and children
who hadn’t even come to his body. What were these people, a society
that condoned murder, that allowed a man to die then congratulated the murderer.
How could he become a hero in a society that refused it, or a monster? He
was an extreme, a relic of wars and hatred, something that wasn’t glorified
in the future but forgotten. How was he supposed to let go?
He walked home, past the offices and the factories. It was still
working hours and schools wouldn’t let out for another hour. He was
alone, a murderer, the epitome of everything he fought against. He was the
monster not the hero, he was no savior. His life was a masquerade, his past
was a joke. He wasn’t as great as he thought, or as benevolent. His
glory was what defined him; he needed glory, needed to know that he was the
most important person in people’s lives. He needed victims and deaths,
needed genocide and carnage, warlords and criminals, he needed them all. He
lived in a society without them and he became one. He killed a man, a man
who had done nothing to deserve it, he was a monster. With this last thought
he wandered out of the towninto the desert, becoming nothing more than a memory.
The dust blew and Theseus was dying. Carrion birds circled overhead, ready to feast when he was too feeble to fend them away. He had lived as a great man, and would always be known as a great man. His society needed great men, men to combat the evils that plagued them, his society, his home, where death wasn’t a lesson and pain wasn’t ordinary. It was the evil that he longed for, the evil that told him he was good, he was doing the right thing. He needed this evil, needed it. There is no God without Satan; no good without evil, evil is what defines the good. Theseus couldn’t have existed without murder, couldn’t have kept sane unless he went mad. Theseus needed his opposites and was the only one who cared. He needed his monsters, even if that monster was he.
ANALYSIS:
Monsters in literature and life are traditionally reviled and despised by
the society they exist in. In Theseus, the monster is originally a hero and
his social image never changes in his society. From the beginning to the end
of the story, Theseus never becomes a monster in the eyes of his community.
Through the use of doubling, death, and marginal boundaries, a monstrous quality
is given both to the society and Theseus. Whether or not Theseus is in fact
a truly monstrous character is unclear, however he appears as a monster as
does the society he exists in.
The character of Theseus is difficult to analyze because he
is not the traditional monster when first introduced. He is not physically
deformed in any way, no psychological disabilities, and has lived his life
serving his community and his country. Theseus comes to the reader as a hero,
someone meant to combat monsters not to become a monster. This is the greatest
fear of Theseus as a monster though, the fact that he is the kind of human
that is revered in our society. It is uncanny to view Theseus in any light
other than as a hero, for that then shines the light upon the rest of our
society. If our hero’s can become monsters then what is our society
based on? Theseus conveys this fear through his actions and through his morals.
When the girl hurts herself on the glass, Theseus is the only person to feel
sympathy and remorse. Or when the man is killed, Theseus is the only member
of the crowd who goes to him; even his family isn’t to be found. Theseus
has every quality that is revered in a human, and he is also the monster in
the story. This is uncanny because this speaks to the fear that there is a
monster in all of us, even though it may appear otherwise. In showing that
the monstrous can appear in the supposed best of society, then it is evident
that the monstrous must also exist in the worst. This causes fear because
monsters are meant to be on the boundaries of life, not in ones own person.
Through doubling Theseus creates this uneasiness and fear, giving him a monstrous
quality. Theseus murder of the man also labels him as a monster.
The death of the man is crucial to establishing Theseus as a
true monster. As shown in both Frankenstein and In Cold Blood, without death
there could be some confusion with whether or not the monsters were in fact
monsters. Theseus murders a man and it is at this point that he passes from
having some monstrous qualities to becoming a monster. Death is the defining
aspect of a monster, the act that causes true fear within humanity. In Frankenstein,
sympathy is felt for the monster yet the monster is always classified as a
monster. There is never a notion to view him otherwise, even though his society
caused him to act in his manner. Without the deaths of Viktor’s brother
and wife however this may have been called into question. For if the monster
had not taken life then there would be no reason to fear and hate him. Appearances
can become less monstrous in time, yet murder never loses its potency. Theseus
is the same in these regards. There is sympathy for Theseus both before and
after the murder, he never is loathed or hated. Yet the murder is the irreversible
point, the place that defines Theseus more than any other aspect of this story.
Murder is the worst crime in our society and there is reason for this, it
causes the greatest fear and worry. When Theseus becomes a murderer he become
a monster, monsters murder and this is where their fear comes from. Theseus
as well as the monster of Frankenstein is defined by their murders. It is
murder that causes the greatest fear and also which doesn’t allow the
label of monster to be removed.
The last monstrous aspect of Theseus is his existence on the boundaries. The utopia physically exists on the boundaries, somewhere in the middle of the desert, apart from civilization. The society as well exists on the boundaries, it being a perfect society, something apart from our own. Theseus when moving to this society then moves away from civilization. He then becomes mad from his surroundings and in the end condemns himself through this madness. The boundaries are in part what condemns Theseus and create fear. Congruent to the idea of doubling, marginal boundaries are something that reflect very closely upon the society we live in. Theseus becomes a monster when placed in the boundaries. When he doesn’t have society to regulate him, he adopts principles that are monstrous. It is these boundaries that bring out these monstrous qualities and reveal his true desires and beliefs. The uncanny lies in the idea that it is not Theseus but all of us who can be influenced by the boundaries in such a fashion. Theseus originally is a representation of the best of our society, and if the best can be altered in such a fashion then so can everyone. The boundaries scare us because of what they bring out in ourselves. In Conrad’s The Heart of Darkness, Africa was a marginal boundary and it drove Kurtz insane. To a lesser degree, the utopia was another marginal boundary, and it contributed to Theseus becoming a monster.
It is through boundaries, doubling, and death that Theseus becomes a monster
to the reader. It is also through these factors that fear is invoked in the
reader. Not a fear of murder or of Theseus, but a fear of the monstrous existing
in themselves. Theseus is a representation of our society and the qualities
that make a hero. As shown in the story, these are the qualities that also
make a monster. The fear is that these qualities exist in us all.
