Jan van Aken, Monster View | 320 pp. | Querido, €27.99
Jan Van Aken’s new historical novel is set in the recent past: the years 1937–1939, when not only Nazism was on the rise, but also Carl Gustav Jung’s psychoanalysis. Van Aken skilfully weaves these two elements into Monster View It’s lovely to connect with one another. Who’s mad, what’s normal, and who are the monsters?
Authors of historical novels have an incredible wealth of material to draw upon, with centuries of events, characters and plot twists to choose from. The rich body of work by the author Jan van Aken (1961) therefore spans many centuries: he takes the reader just as easily back to the sixth century BC (King for a day, 2008), the fourth century AD (The apostate, 2013), the fifteenth century (The procession, 2018) or to the 1980s (The Velvet Labyrinth, 2005).
In his new novel Monster View he looks closer to home: the story is set in the years leading up to the Second World War. The protagonist, Victor Montanus, joins the Order of Saint Dymphae in Hilligenkapel as a junior doctor; it is a psychiatric institution with a ward for women with mental illness and one for male patients. Victor is assigned to the women’s ward, where he intends to put his knowledge of Jungian psychoanalysis into practice.
Van Aken immediately pulls out all the stops to set the scene and paint a picture of the era: ‘A layered mist hangs in the dining hall of St Dymphna’s. They are the suffocating odours of carbolic acid and Lysol, the sharp, acrid fumes of ammonia and vinegar, of tar-like creosote and bleach; the complex bouquet of all those cleaning and disinfecting agents with which the sisters scrub the floors and the walls, doors and windows, and indeed any surface that can be scrubbed, as if they were trying to keep the devil at bay, for everyone knows that he can not only swell to planetary proportions, but just as easily disguise himself as microscopic swarms or a miasma of mould. The odours cling to dresses and aprons, to habits and veils. They are in the hair and deep within the pores of these hard-working women. For these women, the sweat on their faces has mingled with the distinctive aromas of their domestic duties.’
The nuns look after the female patients, who suffer from psychoses, nervous disorders or schizophrenia, and particularly hysteria. However, there is something unusual about the patient Lena. This highly intelligent young lady witnessed her mother’s fatal accident right before her eyes when she was fifteen, and has suffered from severe anxiety ever since. This is caused by the fact that, when she looks at people, she sees a double face: half ‘normal’ and half monstrous. Are these hallucinations, or does she see the true person behind the mask? Victor decides that she is a suitable candidate on whom to trial the Jungian treatment method.
He had acquired his knowledge of psychoanalysis a few years earlier in Heidelberg, Germany, and this forms the second storyline in Monster View. Whilst Nazism is on the rise and Victor’s German mistress, Verena, is being swept up in it, Victor’s unease grows, as does his fascination with the human mind. He considers the rather cruel treatments commonly used to be outdated and primitive; he sees psychoanalysis as the gateway to a new form of treatment for mental illness. When he falls out with the Germans and is deported to the Netherlands, his appointment in Hilligenkapel gives him a chance to further develop his skills after all. But how effective is his approach?
Could the highly critical reception of Van Aken’s previous novel The xoanon (2024) played a part in the decision to take a completely different approach this time? Several reviewers compared this historical novel, set in Constantinople in 1922, to Indiana Jones films, and they did not mean that as a compliment: after a strong start, the book descended into such a jumble of conspiracies, quests, chases and other events that the reader could no longer make head nor tail of it.
Nothing of the sort in Monster View, and the protagonist is not the sort of opportunistic schemer who often features in Van Aken’s novels. Monster View is a more contemplative book, consisting mainly of dialogue rather than adventurous events – and it could hardly be otherwise for a book about the human psyche. Rather than a plot packed to the brim, this novel centres on discussions about the workings of the mind, depth psychology, treatment methods that have thankfully long since been abandoned, characters who display unusual behaviour or have other peculiar conditions, such as diphallia (a double penis).
Above all, the question is who the madmen are, who the monsters are, and whether the ‘true’ face of humanity is not, more often than not, a mask. These are interesting questions, which also resonate in the present day. Although Victor, as the main character, remains somewhat one-dimensional – the reader’s sympathy lies more with the perceptive Lena, who gains greater depth and substance through the letters she writes to her absent father – Van Aken succeeds in weaving two interesting and well-told storylines into Monster View to build up a good sense of suspense that holds the reader’s attention right to the end.


