Showing posts with label Thomas Harris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thomas Harris. Show all posts

Friday, July 2, 2021

Nietzsche, BDSM, and Horror

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

Friedrich Nietzsche. Source: thefamouspeople.com

The title of this post suggests strange bedfellows, as it were. How could there be a link between the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, bondage and discipline (BDSM), and the horror genre? The idea seems ludicrous.

At the very outset of my post, I must clarify that, when I reference Nietzsche, it is as he is misunderstood. Frequently, in the public understanding--or misunderstanding--of Nietzsche's thought, the philosopher's view is not what he actually professes. Nietzsche did not write about a depraved "superman" who defies the morality of the "herd," becoming a "superman" who exists "beyond good and evil," as a law unto himself, only so that he can do as he pleases.

Instead, Nietzsche writes of the happiness that can result from adopting the "aristocratic" values and attributes needed for such a state: wealth, strength, power, and being true to oneself. If one did not adopt such values and attributes, he would become a "slave" by virtue of his poverty, weakness, and powerlessness. However, by adopting and living according to aristocratic values and by using aristocratic attributes, he could become an exceptional person, a "superman," pursuing his own interests and achieving greatness in such pursuits. 


 Alexander the Great. Source: Wikiquote.org

The Nietzschean superman is not Hitler, but Alexander the Great; not Caligula, but Shakespeare; not Nero, but Galileo. The superman is creative, not destructive; a contributor to civilization, not a leech; or, in modern-day terms, a producer, not a consumer.

In the popular understanding (misunderstanding) of the Nietzschean superman, this individual is not an individual who rises to the top of a profession and transforms his world (and, quite possibly, the future world), but a petty-minded, self-absorbed, tyrannical fool who is fortunate to be stronger, both in body and in will, to others and who is able, therefore, to dominate others, a person for whom right is determined by might. With this misunderstanding of the Nietzschean superman in mind, the (perverted) superman's link, in the popular mind, with both the "master" or "dominant" participant in a BDSM relationship and the monster of horror fiction is, perhaps, clear.


 Vacuum bed. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Except to note that many are designed to exalt the dominant while humiliating the submissive participant, we need not delve deeply into the practices associated with BDSM. However, it is necessary, it seems, to characterize the dominant participant in such activities. A survey of BDSM fare shows such a person to be physically powerful, dominant (socially and otherwise), controlling, aggressive, authoritative, often cruel, sometimes merciless, usually narcissistic, and tyrannical. He (or she) tends to prey on others who are physically weaker, submissive, easily controlled, passive, meek, kind or gentle, merciful, altruistic or "giving," and obsequious.

Let's compare the BDSM "master" with human monsters of horror fiction.


 Anthony Hopkins (aka Hannibal Lecter). Source: nl.wikipedia.org

Hannibal Lecter doesn't just kill his quarry; he often eats their corpses afterward, regarding them as much as food as prey. He is thought to be based on Alfredo Balli Trevino, a homosexual Mexican physician-become-serial killer who murdered and mutilated his lover and killed and cut up several hitchhikers.


 Hannibal Lecter (aka Anthony Hopkins). Source en.wikipedia.org

Thomas Harris's Hannibal Lecter is a cannibalistic serial killer. Intelligent, suave and sophisticated, he cannot abide rude people, for whom, because of their behavior, he has, quite literally, developed a taste. In various of Harris's novels, Lecter is described as a "sociopath," a "monster" who witnessed his sister Mischa being murdered and eaten.

In short, Lecter sounds very much like the mistaken, popular view of the Nietzschean superman who defies the principles of conventional morality, acts strictly for pleasure's sake, delights in dominating others, and is, if not physically superior to others, certainly their intellectual better.

Despite his sophistication and his having become a physician, he, nevertheless, wastes his life in pursuing objectives unworthy of a true Nietzschean superman, who finds happiness in pursuing worthy goals that result in contributions to culture, rather than seeking merely to destroy his inferiors.

Let's examine one other instance of a human "monster," this time one that is featured exclusively in horror films. (Although Lecter appears in movies, too, our analysis is based on his appearance in Harris's novels.)


 John Kramer (aka "Jigsaw"). Source: ru.wikipedia.org

In a sense, John Kramer (aka "Jigsaw"), the villain of the Saw franchise, tests his victims to see whether they possess the superman's will to power. Do they have the attributes to survive? To determine whether they have the right stuff, Kramer subjects his captives to a series of tests which cause them to inflict pain on others (as the dominant participant in a BDSM relationship may often do) or on themselves (as a submissive person who is oriented toward masochism frequently does).

Saw trap: en.wikipedia.org

The tests, furthermore, are meant to represent the "flaws" Kramer sees in his victims' characters. Those who fail his tests die, because, in Kramer's view, they lack "the survival instinct," which Nietzsche would see as preliminary and necessary to the will to power. Ultimately, he hopes the survivors--those who "pass" his bizarre tests--will learn to appreciate their existence and fully embrace life.

Theatrical release poster. Source: wn.wikipedia.org
 

Kramer's narcissism is revealed in his belief that he can and should play God, not only testing his captives' mettle, but also determining, by such tests, who should live and who should die. Indeed, he believes he is doing his victims a favor by imparting a great (but, in reality, a rather mundane) truth: life has great value and should be not only enjoyed, but also fully appreciated.

His quest to impart this simple lesson, he believes, justifies his controlling, aggressive, authoritative, often cruel, sometimes merciless, usually narcissistic, and tyrannical behavior toward those whom he would instruct. It also justifies his infliction of pain on them or, as the case may be, their infliction of pain on others. Although, possessed of a Messiah complex, he believes himself to be a sort of superman, Kramer is, instead, a failed psychopath.

Part of the appeal, in horror, of the misinterpreted Nietzschean superman is his amoral, dominant, and powerful existence. As so conceived, he is wild, "beyond good and evil," a force to be reckoned with, without scruples, qualms, or conscience. He is a bestial human, intelligent but ferocious; rational, but ferocious; subjective, but cruel. He will inflict pain. He will injure, He will kill. He may even cannibalize his victims' remains. At the same time, he is capable of communicating, of enjoying life on his own terms, of doing as he will, whenever and wherever and to whomever he chooses. His victims, on the other hand, are merely things, their humanity denied, whom he uses as he desires, as he pleases, as he needs. They are foils, whose puny opposing traits and values highlight his own superior attributes and values. 

In the safety of their homes or that of movie theaters, audiences enjoy being dehumanized; they enjoy playing the victim; they enjoy being pursued, captured, humiliated, and subjected to the will of one who is motivated only by his own need to appease his desires.

Woman kneeling and bound--BDSM. Source: Wikimedia Commons.
 

But, paradoxically, audiences often play all the roles exhibited by the characters in stories or actors on the screen or stage. They are also the monster, who dehumanizes, pursues, captures, humiliates, and subjects other, lesser men and women to their will, seeking only to appease their own sadistic or monstrous needs.


 Maitresse Francosie. Source: Wikipedia Commons.

In horror movies, we are both the victim and the victimizer, the pursuer and the pursued, the captive and the captor, the humiliated and the humiliating, the killed and the killer. With our own implicit consent, horror makes victims and monsters of us all.


Sunday, April 28, 2019

Ed Gein Jokes: A Bizarre Example of Gallows Humor


Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman


After his father's death, Ed Gein (1906-1984) was reared by his mother, a religious fanatic with twisted ideas about sex in particular and about life in general. He was unable to function on his own, and after his brother's death (as a result, some claim, of Ed's having murdered him) and his mother's demise, as a result of natural causes, Ed was left alone on the family farm outside Plainfield, Wisconsin. A man without friends, he occasionally babysat for a neighbor, but, otherwise, didn't much interact with the community.


Left alone, he read stories about the Nazis' atrocities and became interested in cross-dressing. Some believe he attempted to bring his mother back by dressing in women's clothes and adopting her personality. To improve on his female mimicry, he added a “torso vest” made from the skinned abdomen, including the breasts, he removed from a female cadaver he'd dug up from a local or nearby cemetery.


Ed also upholstered chairs in human skin, and he made a curtain pull featuring female lips; a lampshade of human skin; a belt decorated with female nipples; masks cut from women's faces; wall hangings of women's skin, breasts, and severed fingers; dresses made of women's skins; an apron made of female breasts and women's faces; and a pair of gloves made from women's skins. He collected women's ears and noses as well.


Charged with first-degree murder in the death of shopkeeper Bernice Worden, Ed pleaded not guilty and was found “mentally incompetent to stand trial” as a result of schizophrenia. He was confined in the Wisconsin Central State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Waupun, Wisconsin. He was later transferred to the Mendota State Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin, where he died. Although he was tried only for Worden's death, Gein also admitted to having murdered tavern owner Mary Hogan.


Ed Gein inspired Norman Bates, of both Robert Bloch's 1959 novel Psycho and the 1961 movie of the same name, directed by Alfred Hitchcock; Leatherface, of the 1974 movie The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, directed by Tobe Hooper; Buffalo Bill, of the 1988 Thomas Harris novel The Silence of the Lambs and the eponymous1991 film, directed by Jonathan Demme; and Dr. Oliver Thredson of the television series American Horror Story: Asylum.


There's no doubt about it: Ed was a genuinely creepy guy. In fact, he was so disturbing that, to cope with the revelation of his monstrous crimes, the American public invented Ed Gein jokes of the morbid, gallows humor variety. As the Wikipedia article on this type of humor points out, it is used to make “light of subject matter that is generally considered taboo, particularly subjects that are normally considered serious or painful to discuss.” Ed's deeds certainly qualify as such a topic.
A few Ed Gein jokes can be found on the Internet. Here are a few from the Imgur website:
  • What did Ed Gein say as the hearse passed by? “Dig you later, baby!”
  • What did Ed Gein say to the sheriff who arrested him? “Have a heart.”
  • Ed Gein [was] popular with the ladies. There were always women hanging around his place.
  • Why do they let Ed Gein out on New Year's Day? So he can dig up a fresh date.
  • Customer: “Bartender, give me a Gein beer.” Bartender: “It has lots of body but no head.”
  • Have you heard the Defense Department has called on Ed Gein? They want him to ship arms to Vietnam.
Among others, the Tripod website offers these gems:
  • Why did Ed Gein's girlfriend stop going out with him? Because he was such a cut-up.
  • Why won't anyone play poker with Ed Gein?
  • He might come up with a good hand.
Finally, here are a few by yours truly:
  • Ed Gein liked to keep abreast of things
  • Ed Gein always put his best foot forward.
  • Ed Gein had a grave disposition.
  • At bake sales, Ed Gein's pastries didn't sell well: people feared there'd be a finger in every pie.
  • As a house guest, Ed Gein expected to be waited on hand and foot.
  • Ed Gein was barred from the theater after he took Mark Antony's plea to “lend me your ears” literally.
While it must be admitted that Ed Gein jokes tend to be corny (and a bit juvenile), except my own, of course, we can see how they might help people cope with the astonishingly bizarre, heinous deeds of the insane killer from Plainfield.



Thursday, January 24, 2008

Bram Stoker Award Winners, 2006

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman


Named for Dracula’s creator, the Bram Stoker award has been presented annually since 1988 by the Horror Writers Association in recognition of “superior achievement” in the horror genre. The award is an eight-inch model of a whimsical haunted house designed by sculptor Steven Kirk. The door opens to disclose a miniature brass plaque bearing the title of the winning work and its author’s name. Award categories have changed over the years. Presently, these categories are:

  • Novel
  • First Novel
  • Short Fiction
  • Long Fiction
  • Fiction Collection
  • Poetry Collection
  • Anthology
  • Nonfiction.
On occasion, a writer may receive a lifetime achievement Stoker for his or her entire body of work, provided that the oeuvre has had a significant effect on the genre.

For 2006, these were the winners; the awards were presented March 30, 2007:

Novel: Lisey's Story by Stephen King

Lisey Landon, the widow of award-winning novelist Scott Landon, realizes, as she cleans her late husband’s study, that there's much she doesn’t know about his past, and, with the help of Dooley, an eccentric acquaintance, Lisey must figure out what she’s hidden from herself (and what Scott has planned for her) if she's to remain alive.

First Novel: Ghost Road Blues by Jonathan Maberry

Pine Deep, Pennsylvania, is a small town under attack from within and from without. The novel in which the small town is featured, although it comprises a self-contained story, is the first in a trilogy, which fans and fellow horror writers compare to Stephen King’s The Stand, Dean Koontz’s Whispers, and Robert McCammon’s Boy’s Life. The book’s bad guys? A serial killer, a ghost, a pair of wicked mechanics, madness, greed, sexual repression, religious fanaticism, and fear. Ghost Road Blues’ sequels are Dead Man’s Song and Bad Moon Rising. Its author, 49-year-old Jonathan Maberry, maintains a MySpace site.

Long Fiction: Dark Harvest by Norman Partridge

A scarecrow-like monster rises, like the Great Pumpkin, from a cornfield on Halloween to test the mettle of the boys who reside in the small town nearby.

Short Fiction: "Tested" by Lisa Morton

Fiction Collection: Destinations Unknown by Gary Braunbeck

Anthology: Retro Pulp Tales edited by Joe Lansdale and Mondo Zombie edited by John Skipp (tie)

Nonfiction: Final Exits: The Illustrated Encyclopedia of How We Die by Michael Largo and Gospel of the Living Dead: George Romero's Vision of Hell on Earth by Kim Paffenroth (tie)

Final Exits is a book of trivia concerning death and dying, replete with typographic errors and factual mistakes. Gospel of the Living Dead analyzes the symbolism and themes of George Romero’s zombie movies.

Poetry Collection: Shades Fantastic by Bruce Boston

Speciality Press Award: PS Publishing

Lifetime Achievement Award: Thomas Harris.

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.


Popular Posts