Monday, July 2, 2018

The Death of a Beautiful Woman

Copyright 2018 by Gary L. Pullman


Poe did write this, in his essay, “The Philosophy of Composition”—but what did he mean by it?

Some critics might contend that he was merely creating a pithy defense for “The Raven,” which concerns the speaker of the poem's grief for an unnamed woman who had died, a grief which has driven him insane with despair at the thought that he shall see her “nevermore.” If “the death . . . of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world” and Poe's poem deals with this theme, obviously the work concerns the most elevated theme possible, which supports the idea that “The Raven” is itself likely to be one of the most poetic poems ever written.

In any case, horror movies and, quite often, novels frequently include the death of a beautiful woman. In fact, they often feature the deaths of any number of beautiful women. In horror movies, slashers, in particular, beautiful women are killed with abandon.

Some of the reasons for horror writers' bias in favor of female victims are fairly obvious. Typically, women are physically weaker than men and are, therefore, less able to defend themselves. Watching them as they are stalked by a suitably powerful, often grotesque and relentless, monster is likely to make viewers or readers who identify with them (and, yes, research shows that either sex is able to identify with its own or the opposite sex) feel that much more helpless.

Beautiful women do not always die, of course. Sometimes, they are rescued. According to evolutionary psychologists, men may be hard-wired, genetically, to risk their lives in the defense of beautiful damsels in distress, even when the men do not know the damsels personally; men are less likely, perhaps, to do the same for male strangers. Men's motives may not be entirely altruistic; often, in fiction, if not in “real life,” women reward heroes with more than just a thank you and a shake of the hand. Yes, such a subtext is sexist, but sexism, as such, doesn't necessarily make such a plot ineffective, as there is much tension in romance, regardless of its nature or source.

In addition to experiencing the terror of a damsel in distress, male audience members or readers can also vicariously enjoy the accolades and rewards of the victorious hero who rescues the distressed damsel. Most men don't get a chance to be a white knight in their everyday lives, or at least not in as dramatic a fashion as a horror story permits. Being allowed to experience the pride and self-esteem that such a role confers—as well as the rescued damsel's hand—is a perk hard to resist.

A female audience member or reader, on the other hand, can feel special. After all, her predicament—and her beauty—as represented by her stand-in, the story's beautiful damsel in distress, has caused a man to risk his life to save her. That's quite a testament to her charms! Then, should she care to express her gratitude in a “physical” fashion, she again demonstrates the power of her beauty by “conquering” the man who conquered the monster that tried to kill her. If the monster-slayer is powerful, how much more so is she, whose beauty conquers his strength. If he is Samson, she is Delilah.

The human species could survive with relatively few men, as long as there are a sufficiently large number of women. Theoretically, one man can impregnate millions upon millions of women over his lifetime. (In reality, in an extreme situation, he might actually impregnate a few thousand.) However, a woman can bear relatively few children before she is past her childbearing years. Each woman who is killed lessens the chance of the species' survival far more so than each man who is killed. For this reason, women symbolize life more frequently than men do; we speak of Mother Nature, after all, relegating men to the representation of mere Time. It makes more sense, from an evolutionary perspective, to rescue women (and children) before rescuing men. Therefore, we are likely to view as more horrible a woman's life at risk than we are to view a man's life at risk.

Today, male victims are increasingly shown, although there are still fewer of them than there are of female victims. Often, in fact, the last man standing (so to speak) isn't a male character at all, but the “final girl.” As originally conceived by Carol Clover, in her book Men, Women, andChainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film (1992), the final girl was viewed “as a stereotype of the pure, virginal sole survivor in 1980’s slasher films such as TexasChainsaw Massacre and Halloween.” Sometimes, as in Backcountry, the male (Alex, in this case) is killed, despite his macho posturing, because of the poor judgments he makes, while the female (Jenn, in this instance) survives because of her greater maturity and common sense:

Alex's Errors in Judgment

Mistake
Type
Reason for Mistake
Consequence
Alex refuses ranger's offer of a park map. Judgment Alex's overconfidence; he seeks to impress Jenn with his woodcraft. Jenn and Alex become lost and have no guidance out of the woods. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Alex secretly leaves Jenn's cell phone in their car Judgment; deceit The lack of a prevents Jenn from communicating with others, focusing her attention on camping trip (and on Alex). Without a phone, Alex and Jenn have no way to call for help. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Alex leaves Jenn alone when he goes to chop wood. Judgment Unclear The stranger, Brad, who happens upon Jenn could be dangerous: he might have raped or killed Jenn. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Alex does not tell Jenn about the presence of a bear in the area. Judgment; deceit Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. Jenn has bear spray and a traffic flare that they could use against the bear, but she is unaware of its presence. The bear could (and, later, does) kill someone. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Although he is uncertain of the correct path to the lake, Alex continues their trek through the forest. Judgment; deceit Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. Alex and Jenn may be lost. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Alex does not leave the woods after seeing a bear print. Judgment Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. Jenn has bear spray and a traffic flare that they could use against the bear, but she is unaware of its presence. The bear could (and, later, does) kill someone. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Without investigating, Alex tells Jenn sounds she hears are merely acorns falling from the trees, onto their tent. Judgment; possible deceit Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. He may believe the sounds are the effects of falling acorns, as he says, or he may not want Jenn to think the sounds are caused by a bear, whether to keep her from being afraid or to prevent her from wanting to leave, in which case he is also being deceitful. Jenn has bear spray and a traffic flare that they could use against the bear, but she is unaware of its presence. The bear could (and, later, does) kill someone. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Even after hearing the sounds of what might be a bear, instead of falling acorns, Alex refuses to leave the park. Judgment Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Even after seeing a broken tree branch indicative of a bear's nearby presence, Alex refuses to leave the park. Judgment Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Even after seeing the carcass of a dead deer indicating the presence of a bear—and of a bear that is both starving (bears, otherwise, don't eat meat—and predatory)—Alex refuses to leave the park. Judgment Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Even after the bear visits their campsite, Alex refuses to leave the park. Judgment Alex wants their trip to continue. He hopes to impress Jenn with his woodcraft and intends to ask her to marry him. His behavior could endanger their lives.
Alex leaves his axe outside the tent. Carelessness

With his axe inside the tent, Alex would have had a weapon with which to fight off the attacking bear; without it, he has nothing but his hands and feet. His behavior could endanger their lives.

Jenn's Errors in Judgment

Mistake
Type
Reason for Mistake
Consequence
Jenn did not insist that Alex accept a park map from the ranger or accept one herself.
Judgment
Jenn probably did not want to embarrass Alex by casting doubts on his knowledge of the park.
Alex and Jenn may be lost. Her behavior could endanger their lives.
In Alex's absence, Jenn invites Brad onto their campsite.
Judgment
Jenn is being friendly.
Since she does not know Brad, Jenn could be endangering her and Alex's lives and could be putting herself in danger of being raped.
Jenn does not insist that Alex make sure the “acorns” he says are falling on their tent really are acorns.
Judgment
Jenn probably did not want to embarrass Alex by casting doubts on his knowledge of the park.
Her behavior could endanger their lives.
Jenn does not insist that Alex take her home after she sees evidence of the nearby presence of a bear.
Judgment
Jenn allows Alex to persuade her to stay because she has feelings for him and may feel sorry for him.
Her behavior could endanger their lives.
Jenn returns to their campsite after the bear has killed Alex so she can retrieve the engagement ring he has shown her.
Judgment
Jenn, who had feelings for Alex, wants a memento of his love for her.
Her behavior could endanger her life. lives.

Note: Although Jenn, like Alex, makes mistakes in judgment, she is not a woodman and the couple's survival is not primarily her responsibility. In addition, she is not deceitful toward Alex, as he is to her. When she is alone, after Alex's death, her decisions are wise, allowing her to survive the bear and the wilderness.


Female characters have come a long way since the days of King Kong's Ann Darrow. Today, many are as kick-ass as Buffy the VampireSlayer. Pity the poor monster that attacks one of these “damsels in distress.”
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Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

A bit of erotica (okay, okay, sex--are you satisfied?), often of the unusual variety. Sex sells, and, yes, sex whets my reader’s appetite. Bentley Little is the go-to guy for this spicy ingredient, although Koontz has done a bit of seasoning with this spice, too, in such novels as Lightning and Demon Seed (and, some say, Hung).

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.


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