It happens to each and every one of us when we’re children. Our eight-year-old selves are running around the back yard. The world is our playground. No one can tell us what to do, stupid rules be damned. They’re not the bosses of us.
Regardless of what our parents might think, we know it’s a great idea to splash a little paint on the side of the house to give it some color. It’s perfectly practical to bring that rabbit running around the yard in the house. It’s safer to hide our snowballs in the house when we go inside for lunch so the neighborhood kids can sneak into our fort and steal them.
But the inevitable moment comes. “What did you do to the side of the house!?” What did the cat just chase through the kitchen!?” Why is there a huge puddle of water in the middle of the living room!?”
And then we get sent to our room. Our stupid parents don’t understand. The house looks boring; the rabbit was out in the cold; we didn’t want anyone stealing our snowballs. We need to get away to someplace where our parents can’t tell us what to do, where we can make our own rules, and our parents can’t get mad at us when we do what we want.
And the inspiration behind our plan is a little boy in a wolf suit from a picture book by Maurice Sendak. As children, Where the Wild Things Are is our first glimpse at rebellion, the first indication that we could strike out on our own, a hint that, one day, we’ll be gone from the shelter of our parents homes making a life for ourselves.
However, as kids, what Max does in Wild Things just seems like something fun to do for a little while. It gives us a place to go before we return back to our comfortable homes and families. Personally, I never really thought of it as a glimpse toward a future, independent life until I read Dave Eggers’ novelization of his film adaptation of the book.
But Eggers brings that to the forefront, expanding upon Max’s tenure as King of the Wild Things. While the original picture book portrays Max as a great leader of the Wild Things, Eggers’ Max is completely inadequate.
As king, Max can’t seem to do anything to make the Wild Things happy. He promises them a better life, but it doesn’t seem to get any better. The Wild Things go hungry, wander without homes, and suffer from a crippling fear of a rumbling noise coming from beneath the ground that only they can hear.
All Max can seem to do is find ways to distract the Wild Things, whether it’s holding a parade, playing a dangerous game of war, or building a fort to keep the rumbling noise out.
Nothing Max does makes the Wild Things happy. Even Carol, the one who seems to have the most faith in Max, quickly becomes disappointed in Max when he shows attention to the other Wild Things.
But what Egger’s is doing here is showing us the reality that we never realized when we were kids. We might have thought we could do well on our own without our parents’ “stupid rules,” but we never would have been able to make it. In highlighting Max’s shortcomings, Eggers shows just how important family is to a young child. Despite their rules, we need our parents to teach us how to live, and how to take care of ourselves, so that when we finally get out on our own, and are in charge of our own Wild Things, we can do the same for them.
Eggers’ Wild Things is more than just a story of escape; it’s a lesson. A lesson that, despite how maddening they can sometimes be, our family is what teaches us how to live and turns us into the adults we will become.
