A review by bashbashbashbash
On Monsters: An Unnatural History of Our Worst Fears by Stephen T. Asma

4.0

On Monsters is a genre-straddling volume that seeks to answer the questions: how has Western civilization defined the monster over the past two millennia, and how does this definition correlate to historical paradigms?

These queries are perhaps too large for one text to answer, but Asma provides a well-researched précis of monsters in ancient philosophical texts and mythology, monsters in theology, the monsters of 18th and 19th Century natural history and literature, the psychology of monstrousness (Freud and beyond), and contemporary and future monsters, from murderers to cinematic slashers to cyborgs. Each chapter also contains Asma’s own meditations on the meaning of monstrousness and the ways in which the monster embodies changing cultural taboos.

On Monsters straddles several areas: it is written in the accessible tone of the general interest title, but the but philosophical analysis and historical details have clearly been lovingly and laboriously researched. Asma’s background in philosophy, theology, and natural history shines through; in fact, translations from Ancient Latin texts are the author’s own.

Rather than dwell on popular monsters like vampires, On Monsters revels in historical and contemporary oddities. Readers are treated not just to Plato’s thoughts on monsters, but also to accounts from the “history” of the rather gullible Pliny the Elder who believed in every latter-day monster save the werewolf; excerpts of the Malleus Maleficarum – the definitive medieval text on witch hunting – appear lovingly translated; and a delightful subsection on taxidermy hoaxes of the 18th Century entertains as well as informing. Even readers knowledgeable in one area or field that the book covers are likely to discover an new and intriguing angle on monstrousness.

Perhaps due to the wide scope of his topic, Asma’s analysis of the meaning of monstrousness seems incomplete, and therefore less satisfying than his historical recounting. In fact, snappy chapters are often interspersed between heavier ones full of philosophical analysis, which sometimes gives the feeling that one is reading two different works inserted into one book. Half of the chapters dwell on philosophy, and the other half on history, without the twain ever quite coming together.

A further sticking point: Asma inserts his own opinions freely into the text. While this post-positivist approach can be refreshing, it does, at times, color the text. Some readers may chafe at Asma’s emphasis of personal choice (rather than social structure) as being responsible for criminal acts. His scorn for other theorists may be off-putting for some: in footnote Asma dismisses both Julia Kristeva’s The Powers of Horror and Judith Butler’s Bodies That Matter, stating, “I have not found Kristeva’s and Butler’s work very helpful in understanding monsters or anything else, really, but the work certainly has its own devoted following.”

Regardless, On Monsters is always interesting. The footnotes, which double as a bibliography, are copious, lengthy, and entertaining. The book also benefits from excellent overall design and well-considered visuals aids including, in some cases, the author’s own drawings.

On Monsters would make excellent pleasure reading for those looking to find a new angle on a well-loved subject. The chapters are not detailed enough to serve as individual overviews for a reader wanting to get into a topic, but as introductions to new areas of interest, it works well, and individual chapters could be given to students as a starting point for discussion on taboos or beliefs of specific centuries. Despite its fragmented nature, On Monsters is at its most delightful when read as an imperfect but fascinating meditation on the the fluctuating meaning of monstrousness.