For
those who subscribe to a metaphysical dualism, sources of evil are
often divided into supernatural and natural. The latter are often
animals or natural disasters. Since such entities and forces are not
moral agents, they are not held responsible for the “evil”
(destruction, injury, and death) they cause, so there is no ethical
dimension to their behavior.
However,
when a moral agent controls a natural force or being, a moral
dimension does exist, but in regard to the human actors, since they,
as moral agents, are responsible for the harm that they unleash
through the agency of the natural forces or creatures they direct.
The creature from the Black Lagoon. Source: pri.org
Nevertheless,
as anyone who has watched a movie such as King
Kong (1933),
The Creature
from the Black Lagoon (1954),
or Jaws
(1975) is aware, wild animals can cause great havoc.
In
The Creature,
during an expedition to the Amazon, geologists investigate the
fossilized remains of an organism intermediate between Earth's marine
and terrestrial life forms. Thereafter, the team leader recruits an
ichthyologist to assist them, but when they return to their campsite,
they discover that the other team members have been killed,
supposedly by a jaguar. (In the leader's absence, a surviving member
of the species represented by the fossilized remains, curious about
the scientists' camp, visits the site, where, frightened by the
researchers, it attacks and kills the victims.)
Kay Lawrence and the creature. Source: reddit.com
The
expedition then visits the black lagoon at the end of a tributary.
When one of their members, Kay Lawrence, goes swimming, she is
stalked by the creature, who loses a claw after becoming entangled in
one of the drag lines of the crew's ship. Subsequently, the creature
kills other members of the expedition until, caught, it is caged
aboard the ship.
Escaping,
it kills several more of the scientists and captures Kay, taking her
to its lair in a cavern. The remaining scientists track the creature,
rescue Kay, and kill the monstrous “Gil-man,” shooting it
repeatedly.
Although
the monster commits several murders, kidnaps Kay, and terrorizes the
scientific team, it acts in self-defense, rather than with hostile
intent, in an effort to protect itself and, in the case of Kay,
perhaps as the result of its seeking a mate.
At
no point does the creature intentionally harm anyone, other than in
defense of its own life, and its self-defensive behavior is prompted
by its instinct for survival, just as its abduction of Kay is an
effect of its mating instinct. There is no malice aforethought. The
creature does not plan; it does not act with conscious and deliberate
intent; and most of its behavior is reactive, rather than causative.
Therefore, the creature is not a moral agent.
King Kong meets Ann Darrow. Source: basementrejects.com
King
Kong and the great white shark of Jaws
are, like the creature from the Black Lagoon, merely animals that
react to threats to their lives or, perhaps, with respect to Kong,
the mating instinct (although, in his case, this possibility seems a
stretch, given his size respective to that of his captive, Ann
Darrow; it may be that Kong carries her off simply because he has
been conditioned to do so by the natives' periodic practice of
offering him a human female sacrifice.)
Indeed,
it is often the human characters in such films who cause the
reactions of the animals they encounter, hunt, or harass, which, of
course, makes the human characters, as moral agents, morally
responsible for the resulting destruction, injuries, and deaths their
own behavior toward the “antagonists” sets in motion.
God questions Job. Source: wondersforoyarsa.blogspot,com
In
Judaeo-Christian-Christian theology, God is a moral agent because he
holds Himself morally responsible for the acts he performs. Although
his behavior may be mysterious, at times, to human beings, since they
lack his omniscience, He declares Himself “righteous” and
“without sin,” and holds human beings, his creatures, morally
responsible for their lack of faith and trust in Him and His
self-characterization, expecting them to trust that He is the perfect
moral agent he declares himself to be. It is a sin for them to
characterize him as other than he has revealed Himself to them to be.
Angels are also moral agents, with free will; some, rebelling against
God, were cast into hell; those who remained faithful to Him reside
in heaven with Him, as his messengers and servants.
From
a Judaeo-Christian perspective, other supernatural agents are either
evil in themselves (demons, the “fallen angels” who rebelled
against God) or evil because they participate in evil (unrepentant
sinners) or allow themselves to be empowered by evil supernatural
agents (witches,
vampires,
werewolves).
From
this point of view of this religious tradition, therefore, moral
agents can be either supernatural or natural, although, among the
latter category of such agents, only human beings, not animals or
forces of nature, can be so classified.
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.
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.
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.
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.
What
is “monstrous”? Does the concept
change, thereby altering the understanding of the meaning of the
term; do merely the specific instances, the incarnations, so to
speak, of the monstrous change; or is there a modification of both
the understanding and the incarnations?
Source: Public domain
Certainly,
the idea of the origin
of monsters has changed. Once, monsters were considered omens, or
signs warning of divine displeasure, or anger, concerning various
types of behavior. Later, monsters were regarded merely as mistakes,
or “freaks,” of nature. The origin of monsters, once
supernatural, became natural. The hermaphrodite became Frankenstein's
creature; the Biblical behemoth became the great white shark of Jaws.
(Between these extremes, perhaps, as the great white whale, Herman
Melville's Moby Dick.)
Source: Public domain
Prior
to the shift from a supernatural to a natural cause of monsters,
there had been a shift in the way in which the world, or the
universe, was understood. When God had been in charge of the universe
He'd created, the universe and everything in it had had been
meaningful; in God's plan, there was a place for everything, and
everything was expected to stay in its assigned place. The universe
was an orderly and planned place, because it had been created
according to God's plan, or a design, and existence was teleological.
Monsters were beings or forces that disrupted the orderliness of the
universe, sought to disrupt God's plan, or showed disobedience to
God's will, either by tempting others to sin or by giving in to sin
(and sin itself was, quite simply, disobedience to God's will).
Anything that differed form God's plan was a monster or was
monstrous.
Source: Public domain
When
the idea of an accidental, mechanical universe replaced the concept
of a divinely created and planned universe, only nature existed (or,
if God were to be granted existence, He was seen, first, as
indifferent to the universe, as the Deists viewed him, or as
irrelevant.) Offenses became unnatural actions, behavior which was
not grounded in nature. Anything that “went against nature” was a
monster or monstrous. Indeed, a naturalistic understanding of the
universe is seen in the change in viewing monsters and the monstrous
that is indicated in the etymology, or history, of the word
“monster,” which, according to the Online
Etymology Dictionary,
originally referred to a “"divine omen (especially one
indicating misfortune), portent, sign” and, only about the
fourteenth century became understood as meaning “malformed animal
or human, creature afflicted with a birth defect.”
Source: Public domain
Although
some continue to believe that God exists, that He created the world
and human beings, the latter in his own “image and likeness,”
according to a plan and that the universe is consequently not only
orderly, but purposeful, teleological, and meaningful, many others
believe that God either does not exist or, if He does, His existence
is inconsequential and that human beings must chart their own
courses. In the former conception of the universe, wrongdoing is
evil, and it is evil because it involves intentional disobedience to
God's will; in the latter conception of the universe, wrongdoing is
immoral because it is counter to that which is natural. In the former
universe, the monstrous takes the form of demons and unrepentant
sinners. In the latter universe, evil takes the form of “freaks”
of nature, such as maladapted mutants, victims of birth defects, or
the psychologically defective: grotesques, cripples, and cannibals.
Alternatively,
in a naturalistic universe, monsters may be social misfits. Not only
serial killers, sadists, and psychopaths, but also any group that is
unconventional, or “other,” or is vilified or ostracized by the
dominant social group (e. g., a community or a nation), examples of
whom, historically, include homosexuals, Romani people, “savage”
“Indians,” current or former martial enemies, cult members, and
so forth.
Source: Public domain
Our
line of inquiry leads, at last, a question and a conclusion. First,
what happens when we run out of monsters? As our ideas of the
monstrous change, monsters lose their monstrosity: homosexuals,
Romani people, Native Americans, the nations that joined together as
World War II's Axis powers, members of religious organizations once
condemned as “cults” and “sects” have, today, become
acceptable. Their members are no longer monsters. As the pool of
candidates for monstrosity shrinks, what shall become of the very
idea of monstrosity itself? Who will become the monsters of the
future, when all the monsters of the present and the past are no
longer considered monstrous?
Source: Public domain
The
answer to this question, it seems, is that we shall be left with the
few actions that are universally condemned, that are unacceptable in
all lands, everywhere. We might list among such behaviors incest,
rape, premeditated murder that is unsanctioned by the state (that is
not, in effect, condoned as a necessary wartime activity), child
abuse, and, perhaps, cannibalism, which leaves, as monsters, the
incestuous lover, the rapist, the murderer, the child abuser, and the
cannibal. These could be the only monsters that remain in the future.
Source: Public domain
But
they won't be. Here's why: horror is a type of fantasy fiction. As
such, it includes characters, actions, places, causes, motives, and
purposes that are unacceptable in more realistic fiction or drama.
There is room for demons and witches, alongside werewolves and
vampires, as well as the monsters embodying truly universally
condemned behaviors and the people (or characters) who perform them.
For this reason, horror fiction will never be without the monsters of
old, even if, metaphysically, epistemologically, scientifically, and
otherwise, they have long ago worn out their welcome. Fantasy has
had, has, and always will have a home for them.
Meanwhile,
however, the history of horror fiction has provided a way to identify
threats that, rightly or wrongly, dominant societies have considered
dangerous to their welfare or survival, and these threats, once they
are seen as no longer threatening, have likewise shown what perceived
menaces, in the final analysis, are not dangerous to social welfare,
just as they identify the true menaces, the true monsters, that are
condemned not just her or there for a time, but everywhere, at all
times.
Today,
we know that gigantism is caused by the excessive production of the
growth hormone somatotropin during puberty, prior to the fusion of the epiphyseal
growth plate. Gigantism may also be influenced by the
hormone insulin-like growth factor-I, or somatomedic-C. Genetic
mutations account for about half the cases of gigantism; various
genetic disorders are also associated with the condition.
In
pre-scientific literature, giants are depicted as much stronger than
ordinary men and women and, the “gentle giant” notwithstanding,
are often represented as hostile or cruel.
Goliath,
the giant Philistine defeated by David, was 6'9” according to the
Dead Sea Scrolls, but he was 9'9” according to the Masoretic
Text, which is the authoritative source of the Old Testament.
Alleged skull of a member of the Biblical Nephilim
Other Biblical giants include the Nephilim, most commonly thought to
have been the offspring of demons and mortal women, which, of late,
have encouraged several hoaxes pertaining to the alleged discoveries
of their skeletal remains.
Children of Uranus and Gaia, the Cyclopes
were mythical giants, although their height is unrecorded. The
best-known Cyclops is the cannibalistic Polyphemus, who consumes four
of Odysseus's men. Norse mythology is replete with giants, including
Fafner and Fasolt, who seized the goddess Freyja.
One
reason that giants frighten is that their size reminds us of our own
relative insignificance and vulnerability. Effortlessly, giants could
squash us like so many bugs. We would be totally at their mercy, and,
if they lack mercy, if they are hostile and cruel, as they are often
depicted, especially in horror fiction, then we are clearly at risk
of being injured or killed—and possibly even eaten!
Another
reason that giants frighten is that, by virtue of their vastly
increased size, whatever special or unique abilities they have are
also proportionately increased. If a hornet measures about 1.8 inch
long, or 45 millimeters, and its stinger is normally 0.24-inch, or
six millimeters, long, then a 10-foot-long (3.05-meter) hornet would
have a stinger about one foot, three inches (0.4-meter) long!
Some
horror movies depict threats from giant animals, including insects.
Among such fare are the giant ants of Them! (1954);
the giant wasps of The Food of the Gods (1973);
which, for good measure, also features giant rats; the giant spiders
of Ice Spiders (2007) and
Arachnid (2001); the
giant mosquitoes of Mosquito
(1995); the praying mantis of The Deadly Mantis (1957);
and others.
Giant
reptiles appear in several horror movies, including Alligator
(1980); Freshwater (2016); Anaconda
(1997); Boa vs. Python (2004),
Crocodile (2000);
Curse of the Komodo
(2004); Mega Snake
(2007); Reptilicus
(1961); The Giant Gila Monster (1959);
and others.
Another
popular giant menace is the ape: the ape of Ape
(1976); the gorilla of King Kong
(1933); and the gorilla of The Mighty Gorga (1969); the gorilla of Rampage
(2018); and others.
Worms,
fish, crustaceans, and marine mammals are featured in quite a few
horror films: Attack of the Crab Monsters
(1957); Attack of the Giant Leeches
(1959); the snakehead fish of Frankenfish (2004);
the octopus of It Came from Beneath the Sea
(1955); and others.
Various
dinosaurs, another favorite giant monster, appear in Attack
of the Sabretooth (2005); The
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms
(1953); The Beast of Hollow Mountain (1953),
Carnosaur (1993);
Dinoshark (2010); King
Dinosaur (1955); The
Last Dinosaur (1977); Legend
of Dinosaurs & Monster Birds
(1977); Mega Shark Versus Crocosaurus
(2010); Planet of Dinosaurs
(1977); and others.
Only
a few science fiction horror films feature giant humans, among them The
Amazing Colossal Man (1957), War
of the Colossal Beast (1958),
Attack of the 50-Foot Woman (1958);
The Cyclops (1957);
and The War of the Gargantuas
(1966) among them.
In
every horror movie, there is, of course, a protagonist and an
antagonist. For convenience, I'm going to refer to them as the
monster and the hero. Of course, the monster, both human and
non-human, and the “hero” can just as easily be a girl or a woman
as a boy or a man.
For
there to be a story, there has to be conflict, and the major and most
important type of conflict, that between the monster and the hero,
results from their encounter. Therefore, they must come together,
usually in the first part of the story. Writers have come up with a
variety of ways for the monster and the hero to meet, if not greet,
one another. These methods of encounter, in turn, help to establish
various narrative formulas.
Some
of these formulas we might call The Return, The Invasion, The
Trespass, The Act of Vengeance, and The Fish Out of Water. Here are
the breakdowns of these plots and a few examples of each.
The
Return
Beginning
A
monster (an ancient evil) awakens or returns.
Middle
The
monster becomes active again.
End
By
learning the monster's origin or nature, the hero eliminates or
neutralizes the monster.
Examples:
Summer of Night, It
The
Invasion
Beginning
A monster moves into a community
foreign to itself.
Middle
The monster becomes active in
its new surroundings, behaving as it did in its original habitat.
End
By
learning the monster's origin or nature, the hero eliminates or
neutralizes the monster.
Examples:
Dracula,
'Salem's Lot
The
Trespass
Beginning
Trespassers disturb or threaten
a monster's habitat.
Middle
The monster defends its turf.
End
The trespassers capture or kill
the monster, escape from the monster, or are killed by the monster.
Examples: The Descent,
Poltergeist, King Kong, The Thing
The Act of Vengeance
Beginning
The monster or his or her loved
one is wronged.
Middle
The monster seeks to avenge him-
or herself or a loved one.
End
The monster is imprisoned,
killed, or otherwise neutralized or escapes.
Examples: The Abominable Dr.
Phibes, I Know What You Did Last Summer, A Nightmare on
Elm Street
The
Fish Out of Water
Beginning
The
hero, relocated to a strange new environment, usually that of the
monster, is out of his or her depth.
Middle
The
monster, at home in the environment, maintains the upper hand against
the hero.
End
The
hero kills the monster or escapes or is killed by the monster.
Examples:
Open Water,
Backcountry,
Jaws.
Note:
A future post may present other horror story plot formulas.
I
have never heard an even approximately adequate explanation of the
horror at Martin's Beach. Despite the large number of witnesses, no
two accounts agree; and the testimony taken by local authorities
contains the most amazing discrepancies.
Perhaps this haziness is
natural in view of the unheard-of character of the horror itself, the
almost paralytic terror of all who saw it, and the efforts made by
the fashionable Wavecrest Inn to hush it up after the publicity
created by Prof. Ahon's article "Are Hypnotic Powers Confined to
Recognized Humanity?" Against all these obstacles I
am striving to present a coherent version; for I beheld the hideous
occurrence, and believe it should be known in view of the appalling
possibilities it suggests. Martin's Beach is once more popular as a
watering-place, but I shudder when I think of it. Indeed, I cannot
look at the ocean at all now without shuddering. Fate is not always without a
sense of drama and climax, hence the terrible happening of August 8,
1922, swiftly followed a period of minor and agreeably wonder-fraught
excitement at Martin's Beach. On May 17 the crew of the fishing smack
Alma of Gloucester, under Capt. James P. Orne, killed, after a battle
of nearly forty hours, a marine monster whose size and aspect
produced the greatest possible stir in scientific circles and caused
certain Boston naturalists to take every precaution for its
taxidermic preservation. The object was some fifty
feet in length, of roughly cylindrical shape, and about ten feet in
diameter. It was unmistakably a gilled fish in its major
affiliations; but with certain curious modifications such as
rudimentary forelegs and six-toed feet in place of pectoral fins,
which prompted the widest speculation. Its extraordinary mouth, its
thick and scaly hide, and its single, deep-set eye were wonders
scarcely less remarkable than its colossal dimensions; and when the
naturalists pronounced it an infant organism, which could not have
been hatched more than a few days, public interest mounted to
extraordinary heights. Capt. Orne, with typical
Yankee shrewdness, obtained a vessel large enough to hold the object
in its hull, and arranged for the exhibition of his prize. With
judicious carpentry he prepared what amounted to an excellent marine
museum, and, sailing south to the wealthy resort district of Martin's
Beach, anchored at the hotel wharf and reaped a harvest of admission
fees. The intrinsic marvelousness
of the object, and the importance which it clearly bore in the minds
of many scientific visitors from near and far, combined to make it
the season's sensation. That it was absolutely unique—unique to a
scientifically revolutionary degree—was well understood. The
naturalists had shown plainly that it radically differed from the
similarly immense fish caught off the Florida coast; that, while it
was obviously an inhabitant of almost incredible depths, perhaps
thousands of feet, its brain and principal organs indicated a
development startlingly vast, and out of all proportion to anything
hitherto associated with the fish tribe. On the morning of July 20 the
sensation was increased by the loss of the vessel and its strange
treasure. In the storm of the preceding night it had broken from its
moorings and vanished forever from the sight of man, carrying with it
the guard who had slept aboard despite the threatening weather. Capt.
Orne, backed by extensive scientific interests and aided by large
numbers of fishing boats from Gloucester, made a thorough and
exhaustive searching cruise, but with no result other than the
prompting of interest and conversation. By August 7 hope was
abandoned, and Capt. Orne had returned to the Wavecrest Inn to wind
up his business affairs at Martin's Beach and confer with certain of
the scientific men who remained there. The horror came on August 8.
It was in the twilight, when
grey sea-birds hovered low near the shore and a rising moon began to
make a glittering path across the waters. The scene is important to
remember, for every impression counts. On the beach were several
strollers and a few late bathers; stragglers from the distant cottage
colony that rose modestly on a green hill to the north, or from the
adjacent cliff-perched Inn whose imposing towers proclaimed its
allegiance to wealth and grandeur. Well within viewing distance
was another set of spectators, the loungers on the Inn's high-ceiled
and lantern-lighted veranda, who appeared to be enjoying the dance
music from the sumptuous ballroom inside. These spectators, who
included Capt. Orne and his group of scientific confreres, joined the
beach group before the horror progressed far; as did many more from
the Inn. Certainly there was no lack of witnesses, confused though
their stories be with fear and doubt of what they saw. There is no exact record of
the time the thing began, although a majority say that the fairly
round moon was "about a foot" above the low-lying vapors of
the horizon. They mention the moon because what they saw seemed
subtly connected with it—a sort of stealthy, deliberate, menacing
ripple which rolled in from the far skyline along the shimmering lane
of reflected moonbeams, yet which seemed to subside before it reached
the shore. Many did not notice this
ripple until reminded by later events; but it seems to have been very
marked, differing in height and motion from the normal waves around
it. Some called it cunning and calculating. And as it died away
craftily by the black reefs afar out, there suddenly came belching up
out of the glitter-streaked brine a cry of death; a scream of anguish
and despair that moved pity even while it mocked it. First to respond to the cry
were the two life guards then on duty; sturdy fellows in white
bathing attire, with their calling proclaimed in large red letters
across their chests. Accustomed as they were to rescue work, and to
the screams of the drowning, they could find nothing familiar in the
unearthly ululation; yet with a trained sense of duty they ignored
the strangeness and proceeded to follow their usual course. Hastily seizing an
air-cushion, which with its attached coil of rope lay always at hand,
one of them ran swiftly along the shore to the scene of the gathering
crowd; whence, after whirling it about to gain momentum, he flung the
hollow disc far out in the direction from which the sound had come.
As the cushion disappeared in the waves, the crowd curiously awaited
a sight of the hapless being whose distress had been so great; eager
to see the rescue made by the massive rope. But that rescue was soon
acknowledged to be no swift and easy matter; for, pull as they might
on the rope, the two muscular guards could not move the object at the
other end. Instead, they found that object pulling with equal or even
greater force in the very opposite direction, till in a few seconds
they were dragged off their feet and into the water by the strange
power which had seized on the proffered life-preserver. One of them, recovering
himself, called immediately for help from the crowd on the shore, to
whom he flung the remaining coil of rope; and in a moment the guards
were seconded by all the hardier men, among whom Capt. Orne was
foremost. More than a dozen strong hands were now tugging desperately
at the stout line, yet wholly without avail. Hard as they tugged, the
strange force at the other end tugged harder; and since neither side
relaxed for an instant, the rope became rigid as steel with the
enormous strain. The struggling participants, as well as the
spectators, were by this time consumed with curiosity as to the
nature of the force in the sea. The idea of a drowning man had long
been dismissed; and hints of whales, submarines, monsters, and demons
now passed freely around. Where humanity had first led the rescuers,
wonder kept them at their task; and they hauled with a grim
determination to uncover the mystery. It being decided at last that
a whale must have swallowed the air-cushion, Capt. Orne, as a natural
leader, shouted to those on shore that a boat must be obtained in
order to approach, harpoon, and land the unseen leviathan. Several
men at once prepared to scatter in quest of a suitable craft, while
others came to supplant the captain at the straining rope, since his
place was logically with whatever boat party might be formed. His own
idea of the situation was very broad, and by no means limited to
whales, since he had to do with a monster so much stranger. He
wondered what might be the acts and manifestations of an adult of the
species of which the fifty-foot creature had been the merest infant. And now there developed with
appalling suddenness the crucial fact which changed the entire scene
from one of wonder to one of horror, and dazed with fright the
assembled band of toilers and onlookers. Capt. Orne, turning to leave
his post at the rope, found his hands held in their place with
unaccountable strength; and in a moment he realized that he was
unable to let go of the rope. His plight was instantly divined, and
as each companion tested his own situation the same condition was
encountered. The fact could not be denied—every struggler was
irresistibly held in some mysterious bondage to the hempen line which
was slowly, hideously, and relentlessly pulling them out to sea. Speechless horror ensued; a
horror in which the spectators were petrified to utter inaction and
mental chaos. Their complete demoralization is reflected in the
conflicting accounts they give, and the sheepish excuses they offer
for their seemingly callous inertia. I was one of them, and know. Even the strugglers, after a
few frantic screams and futile groans, succumbed to the paralyzing
influence and kept silent and fatalistic in the face of unknown
powers. There they stood in the pallid moonlight, blindly pulling
against a spectral doom and swaying monotonously backward and forward
as the water rose first to their knees, then to their hips. The moon
went partly under a cloud, and in the half-light the line of swaying
men resembled some sinister and gigantic centipede, writhing in the
clutch of a terrible creeping death. Harder and harder grew the
rope, as the tug in both directions increased, and the strands
swelled with the undisturbed soaking of the rising waves. Slowly the
tide advanced, till the sands so lately peopled by laughing children
and whispering lovers were now swallowed by the inexorable flow. The
herd of panic-stricken watchers surged blindly backward as the water
crept above their feet, while the frightful line of strugglers swayed
hideously on, half submerged, and now at a substantial distance from
their audience. Silence was complete. The crowd, having gained a
huddling-place beyond reach of the tide, stared in mute fascination;
without offering a word of advice or encouragement, or attempting any
kind of assistance. There was in the air a nightmare fear of
impending evils such as the world had never before known. Minutes seemed lengthened
into hours, and still that human snake of swaying torsos was seen
above the fast rising tide. Rhythmically it undulated; slowly,
horribly, with the seal of doom upon it. Thicker clouds now passed
over the ascending moon, and the glittering path on the waters faded
nearly out. Very dimly writhed the
serpentine line of nodding heads, with now and then the livid face of
a backward-glancing victim gleaming pale in the darkness. Faster and
faster gathered the clouds, till at length their angry rifts shot
down sharp tongues of febrile flame. Thunders rolled, softly at
first, yet soon increasing to a deafening, maddening intensity. Then
came a culminating crash—a shock whose reverberations seemed to
shake land and sea alike—and on its heels a cloudburst whose
drenching violence overpowered the darkened world as if the heavens
themselves had opened to pour forth a vindictive torrent. The spectators, instinctively
acting despite the absence of conscious and coherent thought, now
retreated up the cliff steps to the hotel veranda. Rumors had reached
the guests inside, so that the refugees found a state of terror
nearly equal to their own. I think a few frightened words were
uttered, but cannot be sure. Some, who were staying at the
Inn, retired in terror to their rooms; while others remained to watch
the fast sinking victims as the line of bobbing heads showed above
the mounting waves in the fitful lightning flashes. I recall thinking
of those heads, and the bulging eyes they must contain; eyes that
might well reflect all the fright, panic, and delirium of a malignant
universe—all the sorrow, sin, and misery, blasted hopes and
unfulfilled desires, fear, loathing and anguish of the ages since
time's beginning; eyes alight with all the soul-racking pain of
eternally blazing infernos. And as I gazed out beyond the
heads, my fancy conjured up still another eye; a single eye, equally
alight, yet with a purpose so revolting to my brain that the vision
soon passed. Held in the clutches of an unknown vise, the line of the
damned dragged on; their silent screams and unuttered prayers known
only to the demons of the black waves and the night-wind. There now burst from the
infuriate sky such a mad cataclysm of satanic sound that even the
former crash seemed dwarfed. Amidst a blinding glare of descending
fire the voice of heaven resounded with the blasphemies of hell, and
the mingled agony of all the lost reverberated in one apocalyptic,
planet-rending peal of Cyclopean din. It was the end of the storm,
for with uncanny suddenness the rain ceased and the moon once more
cast her pallid beams on a strangely quieted sea. There was no line of bobbing
heads now. The waters were calm and deserted, and broken only by the
fading ripples of what seemed to be a whirlpool far out in the path
of the moonlight whence the strange cry had first come. But as I
looked along that treacherous lane of silvery sheen, with fancy
fevered and senses overwrought, there trickled upon my ears from some
abysmal sunken waste the faint and sinister echoes of a laugh.
Apparently, some spirits of
the dead are transvestites. Perhaps too embarrassed to buy clothes of their own
(or too poor—most ghosts, it seems, have little or no need, as a rule, for
cash, checks, credit cards, or bank accounts), one apparition decided to raid
the closet Maddie, of a University of North Carolina at Greensboro.
Maddie and her roommates live
off-campus, in the Edge Apartments on Oakland Avenue, but it was Maddie whose
shirts and pants went missing. The ghost proved more tangible than most,
leaving its handprints on the apartment's bathroom wall.
When she heard “rattling” in
her closet on February 4, 2019, Maddie went to investigate, thinking maybe a
raccoon had been trapped inside. That's when she caught the ghost red-handed
(so to speak). He was wearing her socks and shoes and had heisted a bag of her
clothes. He tried on one of Maddie's hats, before inspecting himself in her
bathroom mirror and, after complimenting her appearance, asked for a hug, but
never touched her.
The ghost turned out to be
30-year-oldAndrew Swofford. He was
arrested on fourteen felony counts, including larceny and identity theft, and
held on a $26,000 bond. Maddie and her roomies have since moved out of the
apartment, having found their flesh-and-blood intruder more unnerving than the
ghost they'd believed was haunting their abode.
9 Krushna Chandra Nayak
In August, 2018,
forty-five-year-old Nakula Nayak and his brother Shyam Nayak, both of whom
lived out of town, in Chhelianala, India, came to the village of Angikala to
notify a relative, Sahadev Nayak, that their mother had died. Due to the
lateness of the hour, the brothers stayed overnight with Sahadev.
Around midnight, Nakula went
outside, to a field close by, to relieve himself. Coincidentally, Sahadev's
cousin, Krushna Nayak, was working outdoors. The night was quite dark, and when
Krushna sawNakula, Krushna mistook the
visitor for a ghost.
Terrified, Krushna began
beating Nakula with a lathi, a heavy, iron-bound bamboo stick. During the
struggle, Nakula managed to wrest the weapon from Krushna and began to strike
his assailant, believing his attacker to be a ghost, just as Krushna had
mistaken Nakula for a spirit. Nakula's assault on Krushna proved fatal, and
Nakula was arrested by the Turumunga police after Krushna's family lodged a
complaint against him.
8 Unidentified Helena,
Montana, Man
Was the shooter's reason for
shooting at a 27-year-old Helena man nothing more than a lame excuse, or did
the gunman really believe that his quarry, who was setting up targets on public
land, a Bigfoot?
The victim told police bullets
came flying at him, left and right, as he positioned the targets. When additional
rounds were fired at him, he sought cover among trees. Later, he emerged to
“confront” the shooter, who drove a black Ford F-150 full-size pickup truck.
The Helena man said the man
who targeted him in December, 2018, had mistaken him for Bigfoot. “I don’t
target practice,” he explained, “but if I see something that looks like
Bigfoot, I just shoot at it.” To prevent others from making a similar mistake,
the shooter suggested that his victim wear an orange vest.
Initially, police were
skeptical of the man's report, because he was unable to describe the alleged
shooter, did not want to file charges, and was reluctant to speak to deputies.
Authorities were unable to locate a truck in the area that fit the description
of the Ford F-150 pickup.
Then, a woman reported a
similar incident involving a man who drove a vehicle of the same color, make,
and model and had shot at her. She was able to provide a solid description of
her assailant.
“We’re working to find this
person,” Lewis and Clark County Sheriff Leo Dutton said. “It is of great
concern that this individual might think it’s okay to shoot at anything he
thinks is Bigfoot.” If apprehended, the shooter could be charged with attempted
negligent homicide.
7 Wendy
Thinnamay Masuka
In April, 2018,
thirty-seven-year-old Zimbabwe pastor Masimba Chirayi killed Wendy Thinnamay Masuka while baptizing her. The adult
congregant had reacted violently to the baptism, he said.
Her
violence indicated to him that she was a “vampire possessed by demons,” and he
believed that she might “kill people.” To prevent this possibility, Chirayi
deliberately “kept her submerged in water until [he] overpowered her.”
Following
his appearance in a magistrate's court in Zimbabwe, the pastor was granted
bail.
6 Helaria Montepon Gumilid
Mistaking Helaria Montepon
Gumilid, a 79-year-old widow, for an aswang (a carnivorous shape-shifter that
may appear to be an ordinary person, despite “reclusive habits or magical
abilities,” Helaria's daughter-in-law, Myrna Damason Gumilid, age 49,
and Myrna's two sons, Rene Boy Gumilid, age 28, and Joseph Damason Gumilid, age
23, hacked her to death.
In April, 2014, the victim had
been visiting her mentally-ill grandson in Zamboanga City, Philippines, when
she was attacked and killed.Myrna, Rene
Boy, and Joseph bound Helaria, “slit her armpits,” hacked her to death, and
removed one of her organs to prevent her from “regenerating.”
Authorities arrested the
suspects, whom they planned to charge in the horrific crime.
5 African Man
In October, 2010, firefighters
responding to a report that people had jumped from the third-story balcony of a
housing unit in the village of La Verriere, France, discovered seriously
injured relatives among the eleven family members who'd made the leap. They
also found a two-year-old survivor, a baby, and a nude African man with a knife
wound to his hand. The baby later died at a hospital in Paris. (La Verriere is
located on the edge of the city.)
Thirteen people were watching television
in the apartment when the naked man, hearing the baby cry, rose to prepare a
bottle for the child. His wife screamed, “It's the devil! It's the devil!” His
sister-in-law stabbed him in the hand, and he was thrown out of the apartment.
When he tried to return, the
others panicked, leaping from through the window, one man with the two-year-old
girl in his arms. The man crawled away, hiding in bushes tow blocks away. “I
had to defend myself,” he screamed. Seven of the jumpers required medical treatment
for multiple injuries.
No hallucinogenics and no
indication of the practice of any occult rituals were found. The assistant
prosecutor from Versailles, Odile Faivre, admitted, “A number of points remain
to be cleared up.”
4 James Velasco
Hacked, bitten, and beaten,
James Velasco was killed by his grandfather, Orak Mantawil, during a December,
2015, power outage at their family-owned residence in Bliss, Barangay Nituran,
Parang, Maguindanao.
Mantawil was carrying his
four-year-old grandson in his arms when he mistook James for a tiyana, a
vampire who assumes the form of a child or a newborn infant. He apologized to
his family and the boy's parents, saying that he was drunk and cannot recall
what happened after he saw James as a tiyana. He told investigators that he
does not “use drugs.”
James's parents brought
charges of parricide against Mantawil. “He could no longer bring back my
child’s life even though he asked forgiveness,” said Fatima Velasco, James's
mother and Mantawil's daughter. She also said, “My child sustained human bites.
It appeared like his blood was sucked.”
Mantawil has been arrested and
will be subjected to a psychological examination and a drug test.
3 Stella
After Stella was caught
tiptoeing on graves at Luveve Cemetery in Bulawayo,
Zimbabwe, in 2018, a crowd meted out vigilante justice, beating the woman, who
they regarded as a witch searching for corpses she could cannibalize.
A
Luveve resident said, “I was on my way to work when I saw a woman with torn,
dirty clothes talking to herself while tiptoeing on the graves. I quickly
called out to other people passing by.” When asked her name, the woman
repeatedly replied “Stella.”
The
crowd set upon her, whipping her until she wailed in pain. Police rescued her
when they arrived on the scene, and Stella was taken to the police station,
where, Bulawayo police spokesperson Inspector Abednico Ncube said, she was
found to be “mentally unstable” and to be guilty of nothing more than of having
been “at the wrong place at the wrong time.” A family who'd reported the woman
missing identified her as a relative.
2 Zana
Bryan Sykes, professor of
human genetics at the University of Oxford, said a West African DNA strain
might belong to a human subspecies.
The DNA sample was taken from
a hirsute, auburn-haired, 6'6”-tall, mid-19-century African slave named Zana
who lived in mid-19th-century Russia proves she was 100-percent African,
despite the fact that she didn't look like any modern African group of people.
In fact, according to a
Russian zoologist, “her expression . . . was pure animal.”
Sykes suggests that she and
her ancestors left Africa 100,000 years ago to dwell in the region of the
Caucasus Mountains. His most astonishing claim, however, is that Zana might
have been a yeti, or so-called abominable snowman.
Several critics are more than
a bit skeptical of Sykes's claims. For example, Jason Colavito points out that,
by Sykes's own admission, the geneticist “has found no genetic evidence that
yet points conclusively to a pre-modern origin for Zana” and suggests that the
characterization of her as being more “animal” than human might have a racist
origin: “As best I can tell, there are no nineteenth century primary sources
related to Zana, and all of the accounts of her large, apelike appearance
derive from local lore recorded more than a hundred years after the fact, and
during a time when Black Africans were routinely described as apelike,
particularly by isolated rural populations with little or no contact with other
races.”
It seems possible that Sykes
has mistaken Zana for a yeti, when, in fact, she was actually a 19th-century
African slave.
1 Horseman (Centaur)
Ancient people also sometimes
mistook people for imaginary creatures.
Imagine the shock that ancient
Greeks and other Mediterranean peoples experienced when they first witnessed
mounted Eurasian soldiers invading their lands. The cavalry was unknown to
them. The horsemen must have seemed a perfect union of man and horse, a hybrid
fusion of the human and the equine. Such warriors would have been terrifying,
and warriors wielding shields and striking with swords must have seemed
invincible.
As Bjarke Rink observes in his
book, The Rise of the Centaurs, “The impact of cavalry action upon
farming societies was shattering”—and this sight was the origin of the mythical
creature known as the centaur, a presumed hybrid of man and beast that the
ancient Greeks mistook for true monsters: “The weird creature that captured the
world's imagination for thousands of years was not a myth at all, but the first
sighting of fighting horsemen by the peasant farmers of Greece.”
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’ Dictionarycontends 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.
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.