Violence, Aggression, and Love Theme Analysis

In Justin Torres’s We The Animals, violence and aggression are often tied to surprisingly tender emotions. The narrator and his brothers grow up in an abusive household, in which their father’s violence is a constant threat. Furthermore, the boys’ tendency to roughhouse mirrors the physical abuse they’ve faced, as their own aggression becomes an attempt to normalize violence and, in turn, their own trauma. And yet, the abuse they encounter is also more complicated than it might first appear, since it often seems to signal a certain emotional investment, as if violence and aggression are ways of expressing love. For instance, after beating Manny because he and his brothers decided to sleep in the woods without telling their parents, Paps apologizes by saying that he only used violence because he’d been afraid that something bad might happen to them. Of course, this is the kind of flawed reasoning that abusers often use to justify otherwise unjustifiable behavior, and it ultimately sends a clear and disturbing message to the narrator and his brothers—namely, that aggression is a way of expressing how much a person cares about others. In fact, it is this very reasoning that later makes the narrator want his brothers to beat him up. Sensing that his academic success and emerging sexual identity sets him at odds with Manny and Joel, the narrator tries to provoke them into hurting him, clearly believing that violence would reaffirm their love for him. Accordingly, Torres examines the ways in which violence sometimes serves as an unfortunate and destructive stand-in for healthy emotional expression.

The narrator and his brothers are surrounded by violence at home, which is why they act out violence amongst themselves by playing wildly and aggressively. Most importantly, the brothers incorporate violence into their lives as if it’s a sport, turning it into a game rather than something to be feared. When, for example, they play a three-person version of foursquare, they pretend to be their angry father each time they whack the ball, saying things like, “this is for raising your voice,” or, “this is for embarrassing me in public.” There’s no question that this is a tragic reflection of just how inundated their lives are by violence, but their embrace of aggression is—above all—a coping mechanism. By emulating the darkest parts of their lives in relatively risk-free environments, they’re able to work through trauma that would otherwise go unacknowledged. In other words, they accept violence as a part of life because they have no way of avoiding it. In turn, Torres illustrates not only the concerning cycle of familial aggression, but also the complex ways in which young people learn to cope with abuse.

Not only do the narrator and his brothers view violence as an inherent part of life, but they also come to associate it with emotional tenderness. This is partly because their parents’ relationship fluctuates between affection and animosity, as Paps physically abuses Ma but (like many abusers) frequently dotes on her and showers her with love. As a result, Paps and Ma exist in a seemingly never-ending cycle of violence and affection, one that unfortunately teaches the boys to view love as inextricably intertwined with aggression. This association is further strengthened when Paps beats Manny for failing to tell him that he and his brothers were going to sleep in the woods. In the aftermath of this beating, Paps insists that the only reason he hurt Manny was because he’d been frightened that something bad might happen to his beloved children. By saying this, he frames violence as a product of love, a sign that somebody truly cares about another person. This is a message that the boys internalize, as evidenced by their decision to unexpectedly start beating both of their parents in the middle of a good-natured tickle fight one night. Suddenly smacking their parents and shouting at them, the three boys express both anger and love toward their parents, having learned that the two sentiments are directly related. This, it seems, is the only way they know how to show their parents how they feel about them.

Aggression in We The Animals is a form of emotional currency, but it’s also a source of self-destruction. Unable to openly share his feelings of alienation with his brothers, the narrator seeks out the only embodiment of acceptance and affection he knows: violence and spite. This happens during his teenage years, when he fearfully realizes that his intellectual nature and emerging homosexuality set him apart from Manny and Joel. Knowing that they too can sense his differences, he provokes them one night when they’re all drunk, insulting them both by saying that they embarrass him. When Manny grabs a stick and threatens to hit him in the face with it, he notes that he actively wants his brother to hurt him. This is because such violence would bind them to one another, since they all see aggression as a manifestation of care and affection. Instead of hitting him, though, Manny drops the stick and tells him there’s something wrong with him, saying, “Let’s talk about that.” However, the boys don’t talk about their differences, since—as the narrator implies—they’re incapable of having honest conversations about such things. Instead, the narrator runs away, and when he returns, he learns that his family has read his diary and discovered that he’s gay—a development that leads to the end of his relationship with them. That the narrator’s argument with his brothers precedes this falling-out ultimately links the dissolution of their relationship with his inability to genuinely connect with them. With this in mind, Torres shows readers the tragic consequences of expressing emotion only through violence and aggression, demonstrating how disastrous it can be when loved ones don’t know how to connect with each other in healthy, nonviolent ways.