Rethinking 'Monsters' in Stories
For generations, monsters have served as cautionary figures in stories for children. They lurk in forests, under beds, or in the pages of books, reminding young minds to behave, stay safe, and obey rules. But in recent years, storytellers — particularly in children's literature — have started to shift the narrative. What if these so-called monsters weren't villains at all, but misunderstood beings capable of change, even kindness?
Across cultures, fearsome characters have evolved from flat figures of horror into complex beings who mirror human emotion. In a growing number of Filipino middle grade books, monsters once feared are now recast as reflections of inner struggle, societal issues, or even redemption. These transformations invite readers to confront fear with empathy, allowing young people to see the world through more compassionate eyes.
By reshaping the monsters we grew up with, today's authors help redefine what bravery looks like — not the courage to slay a beast, but the courage to see one clearly and ask what it might be feeling.
Why Fear-Based Characters Can Inspire Empathy
Children naturally respond to storytelling. When a frightening character is shown to feel pain, confusion, or loneliness, readers begin to see beyond the surface. The instinct to fear begins to soften into curiosity — and eventually, understanding.
In children's literature, this emotional arc can be a powerful tool. When young readers realize that a monster may lash out not out of evil but out of isolation, trauma, or protection, they begin to connect that realization to real-life encounters. A classmate acting out, a neighbor who seems distant — suddenly, those figures become more than obstacles. They become human.
This shift also reframes the traditional “good vs. evil” dichotomy. Children come to understand that people (and characters) are not simply one or the other. They hold layers, contradictions, and the potential for growth. In this way, monsters become mirrors — reflecting the fears, biases, and hopes that live inside each of us.
More than simply softening fear, these stories encourage emotional courage. A child who empathizes with a misunderstood monster is more likely to extend patience and kindness to others — especially those who are different.
Cultural Examples: Folklore, Legends, and Morality
Around the world, monsters in myth serve both moral and cautionary purposes. In Japan, the oni — often portrayed as ogre-like — are sometimes reimagined as guardians. In Scandinavian folklore, trolls can protect natural spaces rather than destroy them. These retellings don't erase their frightening qualities; instead, they complicate them.
In Philippine folklore, creatures like the aswang, kapre, tikbalang, and manananggal have long held space in storytelling, often used to discipline or warn children. Traditionally, these beings functioned as fear-based symbols of danger or the unknown. But Filipino middle grade authors are now reshaping those narratives.
By taking these folklore figures and placing them in relatable, often urban or school-based settings, these authors build bridges between the imagined and the real. The result? A new type of Filipino middle grade book that blends myth with moral growth.
One such reimagining can be found in monsters in literature that subvert expectations, such as Gimo Jr., which turns the feared aswang into a misunderstood child trying to live up to both supernatural and human worlds. Books like this speak directly to the values of kindness, empathy, and second chances.
These narratives challenge the idea that monsters are irredeemable. Instead, they suggest that compassion is possible — even transformative — for those who are willing to look beneath the surface.
Implications for Educators and Parents
This trend isn't just a literary curiosity — it's a call to action for those who raise and teach children.
By introducing books that reframe monsters, adults can help children build emotional literacy. These narratives become springboards for discussions about bullying, difference, family trauma, and forgiveness. When children engage with characters who wrestle with their dark sides — and who learn to choose compassion — they're more equipped to do the same in their own lives.
In educational settings, these stories encourage social-emotional learning. Teachers can use such books to guide conversations about difficult emotions, ethical dilemmas, and the concept of otherness. In family settings, they become tools for modeling kindness, even toward those we don't understand.
This is especially important in a world that continues to grapple with issues of inclusion and identity. When literature shows young readers that fear can be transformed into friendship, it fosters a generation more open to difference, more willing to listen, and more ready to act with empathy.
School libraries and family bookshelves stocked with Filipino middle grade books that tackle these themes become quiet revolutions — cultivating not only readers, but future peacemakers.
Case in Point: Aswang-Inspired Stories That Humanize
In recent years, several Filipino middle grade authors have drawn from the myth of the aswang, a creature traditionally used to frighten children, and turned it on its head.
Take, for example, the reimagined series by Andrew Jalbuena Pasaporte, where the aswang is not a predator but a child navigating the complexities of identity, family expectations, and moral choices. The monster's hunger becomes symbolic — not for flesh, but for belonging and self-acceptance. These layered interpretations challenge young readers to look deeper.
Another Filipino middle grade book in this growing category might present an aswang child trying to attend school among humans, facing teasing or suspicion. But instead of delivering revenge, the character responds with acts of empathy — perhaps protecting a classmate or choosing honesty over fear. Through such plots, children internalize the idea that even those cast as outsiders can be heroic.
What sets these books apart is their refusal to simplify. They invite readers to sit with discomfort, to ask hard questions, and to find empathy not despite fear — but because of it. Kindness, in these tales, is not given freely. It is earned, through struggle, vulnerability, and trust.
As children read these stories, they begin to understand that kindness is most powerful when it is extended to those who may not seem to deserve it. That's when it becomes real.
Conclusion: Kindness From the Shadows
Monsters in stories have always held power — power to terrify, yes, but also power to teach. Today's authors, especially within the Filipino middle grade book landscape, are using that power not to reinforce fear, but to transform it into empathy.
In doing so, they're giving young readers the tools to view the world more compassionately. They're reminding us all that even the darkest characters can hold light — and that by listening, understanding, and choosing kindness, we begin to light the way for others.
From shadowy forests to school hallways, the monsters we fear most may just be the teachers we need. When children learn to see the fearsome as fragile, and the dangerous as deeply human, they grow into adults who choose compassion not only when it's easy — but especially when it's hard.
The monsters have not disappeared. They've simply stepped into the light — inviting us to do the same.
