And I saw a beast rise up out of the sea,
Having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns,
And upon his crowns the name of blasphemy.
And they worshiped the dragon which gave power unto the beast:
And they worshiped the beast, saying,
“Who is like unto the beast?”
“Who is able to make war with him?”
— The Revelation of St. John the Divine, 13:1-4
Difficult questions abound in the works of Naoki Urasawa but none more thorny, more intense, than the ones posed by “Monster.” Originally serialized from 1994 to 2001, “Monster” tells the tale of Dr. Tenma, a Japanese neurosurgeon in West Germany, whose life becomes inextricably linked to the titular monster, after a split second decision made beneath the auspices of his struggles with his role as a doctor.
If it seems like I’m being too vague in my descriptions, its because part of the joy of “Monster” is experiencing the twists and turns, events and revelations, as they unfold and it would be a disservice to first time readers to give away too much of the set-up.
So, here I present my spoiler warning. If this is your first time checking out the story, come back when you have read the first two volumes (of the original 18) or the first of the re-released Perfect editions.
Quick, some personal thoughts
I first encountered “Monster” in my junior year of high school. It was through an old video about the anime made by Jacob Chapman, now of ANN. I was intrigued by the story and, always a fan of a good mystery, wanted to know more. So, I tracked the first couple volumes down from my library and began reading. By the next week, I had checked out the remaining 16 volumes and found myself sitting with a profound case of book hangover. Months later, I still thought about the ending, about the art and the story and the tragedy of it all. And most of all, I thought about why this comic stuck with me so much.
When Viz announced they were rereleasing the series in the 2-in-1 editions, I saw that as my chance to reread the series and see if it still held up now that I was aware of all that transpired within; I was pleased to find out that it did. Even now, on my third full readthrough, I am finding new details and ideas to ponder, new avenues of thought to follow. And since we’ve been given a wider latitude to approach these Summer Reading Binges, I thought I’d start the discussion of “Monster” not with a plot, art, character, or even structural analysis or thoughts, and instead talk about the central conflict that is brought about through the opening three chapters.
The craft can come later.
The Fall
‘Herr Dr. Tenma,’ the opening chapter, spends the bulk of its page count establishing the initial protagonist of the story, the titular Herr Doctor Tenma, and his position at the Eisler Memorial Hospital. From there, we see his crisis of faith in the world around him build and build until he finally snaps, thereby becoming what, in a traditional narrative, would make him the hero. He stands up to the Director, going against his orders, and saves the life of the East German boy over the mayor. In any other narrative, this would be a triumphant moment. The culmination of seeing the selfishness around him and being lauded as a hero, as the Director fumes.
. . .Here, because of his choice, he loses his position, his prestige, relegated to the worst shifts, his engagement cut off. He is punished for doing the right thing. What, then, are we to take from this? That no good deed goes unpunished? That is one reading. Another is that this is just how the world works. That the world is filled with cruel and manipulative people who hold all the power and that disobeying them, while right and ethical, is not an easy task nor is it one that will get you rewarded. But the right thing is a net positive, always, right?
Continued belowAccording to “Monster,” you can’t tell.
The conflict at the center of the narrative is the question of what happens when doing the right thing causes others to die. In saving the life of this child, an ostensibly good act, he ends up allowing the deaths of others, in much the same way as if he were still following the orders of the Director. While the specifics of the story exaggerates the question to the point of absurdity if one were to try to expand it outwards, the underlying sentiment remains. What happens when your decisions, right and in line with your ethics may be, causes the preventable suffering of others? And, more importantly, what happens when your ethical code comes into conflict with something so monstrous, it must be broken.
Join me again next week, as we look at Vol. 2 (Volumes 3 & 4 of the original release) and take a look at the way Naoki Urasawa structures his narrative for the long run.
