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 Chaiah, 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.

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