It started off as a riff on a couple of classics, as so many of my things do: the monster under the bed and it was a dark and stormy night…
I can’t seem to help postulating on other ways to see things; it’s a gift and a curse. The need to play devil’s advocate and constantly ask what other ways a thing can be seen is so ingrained in me, it’s just about impossible to keep from indulgence.
The monster under the bed merged with the concept of little things draining the life and verve you’re born with, and grew to encompass loss, abandonment and trauma.
The Mungk is a meditation on the birth of resignation, of fatalism.
Hopelessness, as seen through the guise of a children’s story.
It’s a exploration of how, as we grow, the world reveals itself to be far less well-meaning and static than we presume as children, where parents are gods, friends are forever and it’s one adventure after the other.
I won’t claim to have been abandoned or abused or any of that good stuff. My parents were pretty good. We had our fights, but nothing like what other poor souls have been through. I was disemboweled by a tree when I was eight; it didn’t make me grow up vowing revenge against improperly cut stumps.
(What a shitty superhero that would have been – the Leveller!)
I was more traumatized by the loss of faith; as I’ve said before, if you want to lose your religion, read the Bible. If you’re not out by Leviticus, there’s something wrong with your basic human decency.
The Mungk is trauma on trauma on trauma.
It’s overwhelming, it’s so much bigger than something we can deal with, in a child’s parable.
I’m sorry to unleash this on the world, but well, it’s the thing I’m most proud of, to this point. It’s good.
I think it’s great.
I could be wrong.
That’s the risk a person takes in creating anything. We build, we create, we connect the dots. We put it out into the world and now, it’s something for the jackals. Their noses twitch, their lips pull back from their teeth.
They pounce.
Anyway, the Mungk is born, for better or worse.
Only time will tell if this post is the beginning of something huge, or just another whisper in a storm.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 1618 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success, Carol Dweck
Comics: Chew 1-4
Music: No Exit, Blondie (ha!)