As a kid, the monsters in
"Where The Wild Things Are" were downright frightening. But thinking about
the book as an adult, it's clear there's
something deeper to this fantastically
monstrous story. In the book, the unruly Max is confronted with
the wild things, a group of misfit monsters
that are grotesque and scary, living in a world straight
from Max's imagination. The wild things
are his own demons made physically monstrous. Maurice Sendak's
"Where The Wild Things Are" is born from his own
childhood memories and is a meditation
on confronting fear. But don't worry, I'm not going to ruin more
of your childhood today, I promise, but I am
going to show you how monsters have a place
in all stages of our lives. [bright upbeat music] I'm Dr. Emily Zarka,
and this is "Monstrum." Initially banned in
many American libraries for being too frightening, "Where The Wild Things Are"
forged a new path for children's literature by
acknowledging that it's okay for kids to experience
fear and darkness. This now beloved classic
has only ten sentences in the entire book. Sendak considered
himself an artist, not just an illustrator
or just an author. This feels evident in the book where he relied heavily on
images to tell the story. The words feel sparse and
thoughtfully selected by design. The plot begins with
young, rebellious Max running amuck at home; chasing the dog with a fork, making a fork
where he shouldn't, sassing his mother with,
"I'll eat you up!" And for this insolence, he's
sent to bed without supper. In Sendak's illustration
of Max's banishment, it's easy to see Max feels
this punishment is unfair. While he contemplates
this affront, a forest grows in his room and
Max rides a boat to an island populated by the horned,
clawed and fanged wild things. There Max shows
no fear of the monsters. Tamed in awe by his lack of
fear and unblinking stare, the wild things crown him king. Max and the wild things
engage in a wild rumpus before he sends them off
to bed without supper. Feeling lonely, Max
leaves the island and returns to his bedroom where supper sits waiting
for him, still warm. Published in 1963,
"Where The Wild Things Are" was critically praised. It won the prestigious
Caldecott Medal, an award for the most
distinguished picture book for children. But despite its acumen, the book was also
met with controversy. Readers felt that
Max's unruly behavior set a poor example for children, and the wild rumpus
might inspire children to behave badly-- dancing under the moon
with monsters, the horror. In my opinion, those
critical of the book were missing the subtext
and Sendak's refusal to turn a blind eye away from
the dangerous, emotional, and physical experience
it is to be a child. This was a truth
he knew all too well. Sendak grew up amidst the Great
Depression and World War II. The son of Polish
immigrants who often hosted and housed relatives who
escaped the Nazis in Europe, although not all of his
family was so lucky. He spent a lot of time as
a child, somewhat lonely, for lonely watching
other kids play outside. Sendak spoke about
his childhood saying, "I knew terrible things "but I knew I mustn't
let adults know I knew. It would scare them." His own mother would
call him Vilda Chaya, the Yiddish version of
Wild Child or Wild Thing. Sendak hated much of
his mother's cooking, which meant he often went
to bed without eating. It's not a far leap to see
"Where The Wild Things Are" as a therapeutic reflection
of Sendak's own relationship with his mother. Sendak asserted that
children need fantasy to process disturbing
emotional situations. He said Max discharges his
anger against his mother and returns to the real world,
sleepy, hungry, and at peace with himself. I'm glad I'm not the only one to see the potential
in monsters. And the monsters in
the book themselves, Sendak said they were inspired
by his older relatives. They would often tell him, he looked so good,
we could eat you up, a line he borrows for the book. But what inspired
their appearance? A voracious reader, Sendak
also created illustrations for books other than his own, including books of
folklore and fairytales. Some of these wild things
look like classical monsters we might recognize from other
monster texts and mythology, or at least they do to me. This one could be a serpentine
sea beast or dragon. Here we have the
Minotaur and the griffin. Might be a stretch but
these two even remind me of the chimera when they
are first introduced. But we can't forget about the littlest
monster of the story, Max. Max is testing his boundaries
and having big feelings. His banishment
is an opportunity for him to contemplate his own actions. His wolf suit symbolizes
his animal nature, which as the story goes on,
becomes his monstrous nature. It conjures up the legends
and accounts of feral children left the mercy of the wilderness
without adult supervision. The choice of a wolf over other
animals seems significant. Wolves are perceived
as very threatening, particularly for children. Often in literature
and werewolf lore, they eat or threaten to eat
people, especially children. The threat of cannibalism, one of humanity's
greatest taboos, is present although in a really
subtle, lighthearted way. Max threatens his mother
with, "I'll eat you up," the monsters later threatened
to consume Max saying, "We will eat you up,
we love you so." While this doesn't seem to
be a cannibalistic threat, at first glance, being
imaginary monsters at all, if we read the creatures
as representations of Max's own inner
emotions and identity, then the doom
of self cannibalism lingers in the moonlight. Threats aside, I think
Max's wolf suit ironically also represents his freedom. Unburdened by the demands of
adulthood and responsibility, he's freed to roam
and roar and imagine. Max can see and feel
things others cannot, he represents the best
parts of childhood. But to the adults in his life, he represents the
worst parts of a child, stirring up ruckus and
scaring even the monsters with his wildness. The through line of the
story is really Max's mother, the one who presumably
sewed his wolf costume in the first place. She also gave him
the name Wild Thing and took away his dinner
only to have it waiting again at the end of the story. Her control lets the reader,
adult or child alike, know that Max's behavior
is ultimately supervised. He's safe at home,
physically and mentally. Given the complex
layers of metaphor and symbolism to the story,
not to mention its popularity, it's not surprising
the book would be adapted into other mediums. First, there was the opera. Yes, an opera. In 1980, Sendak collaborated
with composer Oliver Knussen on the opera. The wild things are
made larger than life with impressive costumes
conceived by Sendak himself that made their performers
appear nine to 12 feet tall. The opera would become
a TV movie a few years later. In the early 2000s, Sendak began developing
a film adaptation at Universal and approached legendary
director, Spike Jonze. Jonze was initially hesitant, but his eventual
enthusiasm for the story and openness to taking it in
a new live-action direction was met with gusto by Sendak. While Sendak was thrilled by the new creative direction
of the film; Universal, not so much. Nervous about it being too
dark for a children's movie, the film rights went to Warner
Brothers, who were also wary, but nonetheless completed
the film in 2009. When the film was
finally released, it was critically praised
and publicly fear mongered, just like Sendak's book. Some claimed it was too
violent and too scary for kids, leading to debates about
whether or not exposing children to Max's story was harmful. I'm gonna leave it
to Sendak to respond. In an interview after
the film's release, when asked what he
would say to parents who think the film is
too scary, Sendak said, "I would tell them
to go to hell. "That's a question
I will not tolerate. "This concentration
on kids being scared "as though adults
can't be scared. Of course, we're scared." He went on to elaborate that
art should contain elements of fear since it reflects truth. Noting that he heard horrible
stories from his relatives and watched horrendous
movies not made for kids. "So what? "I managed to survive," he said. Throughout his career, Sendak insisted that
"Where The Wild Things Are" was not just a children's
book but a book for everyone, and it should be
marketed as such. He believed firmly in his
art and the story's potential to speak to the truths of
childhood's terrible things, and his work aimed to speak
to the child within everyone, including himself. His work is notable for
taking on the darker and more complicated
emotions a child experiences in a way that they understand and a way that can help
adults understand them. In "Where The Wild Things
Are," he uses monsters. Max's wild things
are personal demons, the desire for violence, for
wanting to scream and roar, to be angry and destructive,
defiant and independent. These urges are felt by
most kids in general, but just like Max, they
have to learn to tame them. Childhood is not only
mysterious and powerful but the reality is that
it can also be terrible. We don't ever fully grow out of all those childhood
fears and desires, especially when we see them
in the real world every day. But luckily for us,
with monsters, we have a way to explore
these terrors together. So, yeah, am I saying you should read
books with monsters to kids? Absolutely.
Adults, too. ...collaborated with Composer
Oliver Knussen on the opera. We're gonna have to look up
the pronunciation of that word. (Crew Member)
Yeah. Knussen? Tussen. Tussen with a Knussen. Accessibility provided by the
U.S. Department of Education.
