For our inaugural challenge, we asked writers to explore the monsters of our own making. Read the winning piece here, and then enjoy this interview with first-place winner Rhys L’Hermite, in which he talks about the process of crafting his poem, “Garry Learnt how to Be a Man Off the Internet.”
Rebecca Paredes: You wrote this in response to our “Monsters We Made” challenge, which asked writers to examine the “monsters” of our contemporary lives and how they haunt us today. How did you approach crafting this piece in response to the theme—for example, was it written in one sitting, or multiple?
Rhys L’Hermite: The main thing I wanted with this poem was for it to feel like a long, continuous stream of thought—so I did end up writing it all in one sitting. The process was mostly me writing the first things that jumped into my head at each corner, letting the piece form itself in an unfiltered way which I later edited down. I think that automatic process really lent to that feeling of sudden or jarring leaps in ideas that the piece displays.
I also wanted this poem to be uncomfortably real, where that monster of “Garry” (and, by extension, anyone similar) evokes a feeling of terrible, human familiarity—since I think that’s what really connects to the theme of monsters our society has made. I tackled that by basing the rambling dialogue off a lot of real things I’d seen or heard perpetuated. “Garry” is an amalgamation of all those real comments (and, unfortunately, real people), and I think that worked to reinforce that feeling of him being a tangible, human monster, which this wave of toxic masculinity has created.
RP: One of the many things I appreciate about this poem is that it captures both sides of the equation: the man who is influenced by this endless barrage of toxic perspectives and the woman who receives these messages. How do you feel this piece responds to what it’s like to “be a man” today?
RL: I think, as you touched on, a lot of this poem connects to that seemingly inescapable influence of toxic ideals and how overbearing they become. Speaking from the side of men, I feel it especially responds to the rigidity and hostility of ideas regarding what it is to “be a man” or what a “real” man is—and then how those rigid talking points start to almost contradict and collapse in on themselves.
The poem tries to point out the fragility of those toxic influences: how easily that self-construction of masculinity crumbles if something challenges it (like a woman displaying strength or independence), becoming almost a comical parody of itself. I feel it also tries to respond to the fact that toxic masculinity is such a scorched-earth path that harms both ends of the equation, but I especially wanted to highlight the perspective or experience of people on the receiving end of that rhetoric.
It was important to me that this poem wasn’t just about what it is to “be a man,” but also what it’s like to be around those men as the side that gets harmed by those ideals most of all. Lastly, I think the poem really speaks to how much louder all the toxic voices can feel—and how much easier it is to hear them (on both sides)—highlighting just how much more overwhelming they become.
RP: The experience of reading this poem is like scrolling through a social media feed, from the way one line bleeds into another to the way the statements become caricatures of the stereotypes of masculinity (I loved “I wash with only the manliest soap it smells like wood splinters I can’t feel ’em”). How do you want your reader to feel by the end of this piece?
RL: Overwhelmed and exhausted are the first things that come to mind—as if there isn’t even a chance to get a word or breath in against “Garry.” Before you’ve even had a chance to process one thing, the next comment has already started. I wanted the whole experience to feel like a nonsensical rant, where the only person who really gets a chance to talk is “Garry,” who ends up basically just having a conversation with himself in a big wall of text.
I also wanted to try and evoke a sense of frustration following that—the general sort of irritation and annoyance (or downright anger) that comes when dealing with these types of people. I want there to be an overall sense of disgust felt over his comments, but I hope that sparks a type of defiance in the reader! That thought and feeling of resistance—a desire to fight back, get Garry to shut up, and put him in his place!
Then, more specifically when it comes to men reading this poem, I really wanted to make sure that “Garry” comes out of it looking like a complete idiot, so other men read this and have it pointed out plainly to them that following in similar footsteps would make them look like an idiot too. That—contrary to what the internet might be telling us—those “alpha,” “hyper-masculine” ideals just make you look pretty stupid. Those types of monsters aren’t ones you should be looking up to, and I hope that the experience of reading the poem helps highlight that.
RP: Is there anything else you’d like to share?
RL: I’d love to take this opportunity to say: don’t stop speaking out against those day-to-day monsters, whoever or whatever they might be. Write angry poems! Spit out a frustrated essay! Scratch stories of rebellion onto a page and make all the monsters out there uncomfortable and unsettled. Don’t let the loudest voices drown out or silence the sensible ones. Writing is a wonderful storm of defiance, and I think in these times it’s a craft needed as much as ever.
I also wanted to just say to any young men who might be at formative moments in their lives right now—just because some voices might be the loudest, or even seemingly the most common around you, doesn’t mean those are the ones to listen to. If something doesn’t feel or sound right, don’t follow it. Be careful about who you’re listening to and be aware of what fuels the words they say. Toxic masculinity can feel suffocating, especially in moments you might try to push against it—but remember that empathy isn’t hideous. Having feelings won’t suddenly “make you gay.” You aren’t “less of a man” if you cry when you’re sad and you approach others with kindness.
The only qualifier for being a man is identifying as a man yourself, so don’t let others try and define who you are with their own rigid beliefs. Above anything, just be kind. Be gentle. Be human.