“The Beast in the Jungle” is John Marcher’s name for a set of psychological inhibitions and preoccupations with a destiny he believes is uniquely his own. Rather than pursuing his fate, Marcher sees himself as being pursued by the Beast, externalizing responsibility for his own life and imagining his destiny as something that will take place elsewhere, in a decidedly un-English “Jungle.” He envisions the Beast as lurking and ready to pounce, an embodiment of an unknown, unimaginable destiny. Indeed, Marcher forgets at certain moments that the Beast—and the Jungle in which it lurks—is a product of his own imagination; it takes on a life of its own and becomes a convenient scapegoat for Marcher’s ambivalence. He avoids close relationships to protect others from his perceived doom and to guard the secret of his destiny, shared only with May Bartram, his confidante and the woman who loves him.

The Beast in the Jungle implies that one of the scariest monsters in the world is the one that resides within oneself—a self that has relinquished responsibility for shaping its own identity. The Beast feeds off fear and anticipation. In one sense, it keeps Marcher on perpetual alert, expecting an unknown calamity.