Rise of the Monsterf*ckers

All right, here’s a topic I’ve wanted to look at before: the self-styled monsterfuckers and the fiction they love. The terms have recently come to prominence, entering not-quite-mainstream parlance, and there is a host of media catering to them.

What’s with the sudden popularity? What’s with the appeal? Let’s take a look at what’s driving this trend in romance.

The Appeal of the Monster

The “monster” in fiction is often a stand-in for a minority group that has been alienated from their humanity. Werewolves and vampires, both classic monsters, are good examples. The vampire was once a human, but they have been “turned” into a monster that preys upon other humans. As such, they once had humanity, but no longer do. The werewolf shifts between being human and being a wolf. Humanity deserts this creature upon the night of the full moon, wherein they become “an animal” once more.

Monsters like this reflect cultural fears around losing one’s humanity. Further, they explore what it means to be human. “Vampire” is often slang for someone who drains other people—the concept of “psychic” or “energy” vampires suggests that there are “vampires” who walk among us and drain emotions or energy from us, rather than blood. This concept can almost be used to describe real people you might know. The comedy series What We Do in the Shadows crafts its energy vampire character as being an extreme bore. Yet I’ve also seen people describe acquaintances and “friends” as vampires: people who come in and take up all of their mental/emotional energy, leaving them drained, with little to no capacity for anyone or anything else.

What Makes a Monster a Monster?

The vampire, then, is a “monster” because they don’t respect others. They violate social norms, such as valuing independence and the reciprocal nature of friendships and other relations.

The werewolf examines a reversion. Humans were once animals—at heart we still are. The werewolf reflects fears about people reverting to their more basic instincts, of becoming “animal like.” Wolves will prey on human beings, and there is always the tale of the “wolf in sheep’s clothing.” The werewolf might prey on those around him as he loses his humanity.

Other monsters examine a loss of humanity. Sometimes, we see shapeshifters donning human guise, maybe to trick mortal men and doom them. In other cases, people who die in terrible circumstances transform into something monstrous, often through sadness or rage. Think “angry ghost” here.

All of these monsters deal with a lack of or loss of humanity. Yet, underneath it, there was almost always humanity to begin with.

Examining What It Means to Be Human

I mentioned that monsters may be considered analogous to minoritized or vilified groups. They are made into the figure of the monster. This makes sense. Queer people, for example, are often turned into a sort of “bogey man” for parents. JK Rowling’s decision to say lycanthrophy in the Harry Potter series is a metaphor for the stigma of AIDS, which then likens werewolves to gay people, therefore not without precedent. It’s incredibly harmful, but it is certainly not the first time gay people have been accused of being inhuman predators preying on helpless children.

This, then, is where you can see the “monster” metaphor coming into play in romance. In many stories, the “monster” is there to terrify. Very traditional werewolf stories show the monster as a predator, as something that will kill people, infect other people and turn them into monsters too, and tear apart families and communities.

Looking at Beauty and the Beast

Perhaps the very best example of this is Beauty and the Beast. The Beast, we know, was once a human prince. Because he was not charitable to a guest—who happened to be a powerful sorceress, disguised as a poor beggar—he was cursed to be as monstrous outside as he was inside.

In the Disney version, the villagers are afraid of the Beast and set out to kill him. It’s them or him, and they believe he will do them harm. The Beast has, until that point, been angry and aggressive, so they are perhaps not wrong to see the Beast as a threat.

Yet they forget a crucial point: the Beast was once human. Underneath it all, there is some humanity in him yet—which is what Belle sees. She looks past the beastly exterior and the beastly behavior and sees what no one else can: a kind heart, yearning to be understood. Belle and the Beast fall in love. It’s Belle’s love that humanize the Beast once more, allowing him to turn back into a human.

The Fine Line Between Romance and Horror

The point here is that while other stories look upon monsters as horror stories, points of terror, romance tends to see beyond the monstrosity and see, instead, the humanity underneath.

While we can argue that this is a subset of the problematic “I can fix him” trope, the idea appeals to a lot of people. Many people feel like the Beast: they have been unfairly cast as “monsters” by society. In turn, they begin to behave more and more like monsters—they begin to lose their humanity. In many real life cases, people are made to feel like monsters when they are just people living their lives. This, in turn, begins to strip away their humanity. Since society believes them to be less than human, they begin to wonder if they are indeed “less than” human.

Romance novels say no—they say underneath it all, these people are still human. What’s more is that they say, like Belle, that these “beasts” are worthy of love and compassion.

That’s a message that resonates with a lot of people. (Add in that Belle herself was an outcast from society, and we can see why this story has such cachet across a wide swath of people.)

Do People Want to Do the Monster Mash?

All right, so we’ve seen why people might resonate with stories about monsters and falling in love with them. Monsters in any form are largely an exploration of humanity, of losing it, and, in romance, regaining it.

So why do people want to … fuck the monsters?

In romance, that might not be terribly surprising: after all, love and sex often go hand in hand. We could argue that, in our Beauty and the Beast example, Belle sees “past” the Beast’s “horrific” exterior to the kind heart he has inside, which makes him beautiful to her.

That said, there’s a lot of speculation that Belle is actually attracted to the Beast in his most beastly form.

But why would Belle—or anyone—be attracted to a monster?

The Monster as a Metaphor for the Sexual

To explore this, let’s look a bit more at the vampire myth in particular. Vampires are “undead” humans who have risen from the grave to hunt and prey on other humans, often because they were improperly buried. They usually cannot be “restored” to their humanity. They can be killed or destroyed, often through some means like holy water or staking them through the heart. Some myths say you have to put nails through their feet in their coffins.

Yet the vampire in stories—from Carmilla to Dracula and beyond—are often intertwined with sex. The idea of Dracula somehow penetrating and taking fluid from young women makes the vampire myth a metaphor for sex. The vampire isn’t just stealing these young women’s blood—he’s stealing their innocence, corrupting them. They become obsessed with him, so much so that they destroy themselves.

Other monster myths are also bound up in sex: the incubus springs to mind here. An incubus is a type of demon that visits one while one is sleeping, specifically to have sex. The incubus is male, so he mostly preys on women. Many stories about incubi suggest that they “sit” on people’s chests, paralyzing them.

This has led to some theories that the incubus is meant to explain experiences of sleep paralysis. This is a terrifying experience, so it makes sense people would try to explain it somehow.

Another theory is that the incubus was made up to explain cases of incest, particularly where young, single women ended up pregnant. “A demon did it” might be easier than admitting rape, incest, or that a priest wasn’t being celibate.

So, as you can see, we have some sexy, sexy monsters already ingrained in the fabric of mythology. In short, people have always thought about doing the monster mash.

Okay, But Why Do People Want to F*ck Monsters?

There are, like almost all things, probably a few explanations. One is maybe for the novelty and sense of danger. If something had claws and sharp teeth, you might be afraid. Or you might also be terribly turned on by the fact that this creature could kill you with relative ease.

Another reason for the interest of monsterfuckers might be the taboo of it. Remember that monsters are often a stand-in for minorities or oppressed groups. In the past, relationships between men were looked down upon and often carried harsh punishment. This, in turn, leads to a taboo. If screwing another man carries with it penalty of death, then it’s similar to fucking a monster that could tear you apart with teeth and claws. In this way, it’s a bit of a metaphor for the taboo.

Yet another reason for the interest is the abject. The abject is something that is denigrated or considered disgusting or undesirable by society. That, in turn, can make it both endlessly fascinating and intriguing. Part of the appeal is, again, in the taboo of it. It’s the same reason scat play and golden showers are generally considered no-gos for the general population, but some people definitely have those kinks. And part of the appeal lies in the taboo or forbidden quality of the kink.

The same goes for monsterfuckers then. There’s an element of danger, an element of forbiddeness that can heighten the pleasure one feels.

A Mutual Exchange of Characteristics

Sex can also act as a level between the two leads. Sex can elevate the monster to human heights, while it can also knock the human down to more “animalistic” tendencies. In some ways, then, sex levels the playing field, allowing the monster and non-monster partner to take on characteristics of each other.

Finally, we must consider the simplest explanation of all: some people find it hot. Why matters less—some people look at monsters and say, “Okay, but what if I fuck the monster?”

That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re looking to humanize the monster or that they have a deathwish or that they’re seeing the monster as some sort of metaphor for another group that would be taboo to have sex with. It means they looked at the monster and went “oh, fangs and claws.”

And sometimes, that’s all the explanation we need about why something in romance fiction is popular.

That said, I do think there’s a reason we’re seeing a rise in “monsterfucker” books right now, and it has a lot to do with how the world is going. More groups are being denigrated and oppressed, made to feel less-than-human. Many of us are looking to be reminded that we too are human beings worthy of love—or at least some really hot loving.

I, for one, will embrace it, especially as it means we’re seeing more “monster” romances beyond vampires and werewolves. In that case, bring on the monsterfuckers.