In some horror movies, the
plot is structured by attempting to solve a problem to no avail. Such
plots have three parts: the problem, which is the film's inciting
moment; the solution, its turning point; and the failure of the
attempted solution, the denouement.
These are examples of films
that have this three-part structure.
The Hunger
(1983)
Problem:
Beautiful vampire Miriam's husband John begins to age rapidly.
Solution:
Miriam seeks a new lover.
What
Goes Wrong: Miriam ages rapidly after a lover locks her inside a
coffin.
Jennifer's Body
(2009)
Problem:
A ritual transforms Jennifer into a succubus who must devour men to
survive.
Solution:
Jennifer goes on a killing spree.
What
Goes Wrong: During a fight Jennifer bites Needy, who then kills
Jennifer but, assuming some of Jennifer's traits, Needy becomes a
killer.
The Witches of Eastwick
(1987)
Problem:
Witches seek the perfect man.
Solution:
They find the devil, who poses as their dream come true.
What
Goes Wrong: The witches attempt to control the devil through various
magic spells.
Piranha 3D (2010):
Problem:
Flesh-eating, prehistoric fish swarm Lake Victoria during spring
break.
Solution:
The fish feed on tourists.
What
Goes Wrong: The piranha are killed, but they are only babies; the
mature piranhas live, continuing the attacks.
Species
(1995)
Problem:
A female alien, Sil, needs to breed.
Solution:
Sil kills men unsuitable mates.
What
Goes Wrong: Although blasted with a shotgun, Sil mutates into a
different, equally vicious, organism.
Nekromaniac
(1987)
Problem:
Rob, a street sweeper who cleans up after grisly accidents brings
home a full corpse for him and his wife Betty to enjoy sexually.
Solution:
Betty prefers the corpse over Rob.
What
Goes Wrong: Rob commits suicide.
Psycho
(1960)
Problem:
Norman Bates's mother won't allow him to date.
Solution:
Norman kills a woman to whom he is attracted.
What
Goes Wrong: Norman, who dresses as his late “mother,” is arrested
and jailed.
When Christianity became
the dominant religion of the Western world in 313, beginning with
Emperor Constantine's proclamation of the Edict of Milan, new
explanations were provided as to the origins and natures of various
monsters for whom their origins and natures had differed during
per-Christian days. This post traces these developments with regard
to a few of the monsters that are staples, as it were, of horror
fiction.
The Dunwich Horror by Tatsuya Morino. Source: pinktentacle.com
For example, the Russian
Orthodox Church regarded vampires
as once been witches or who had rebelled against the faith (Reader's
Digest Association's
“Vampires Galore!” However, an account of vampires was included
in the second edition (1749) of Pope Benedict XIV's De
servorum Dei beatificatione et sanctorum canonizatione
suggested that vampires existed only in the imagination.
Portret van de theoloog Augustin Calmet by Nicholas Pitau. Source: Wikipedia
On the
other hand, French theologian Dom Augustine Calmet was of the opinion
that vampires, in fact, did exist, his research suggesting that “one
can hardly refuse to credit the belief which is held in those
countries, that these revenants come out of their tombs and produce
those effects which are proclaimed of them.”
The
opinion of the Pope and of Calmet seems to represent, in general, the
beliefs of the populace: either vampires were imaginary or they were
revenants (animated corpses returned from the grave).
A German woodcut of werewolf from 1722. Source: Wikipedia
The
Church's stance, as expressed in the fourth-century Capitulatum
Episcopi
was that belief in werewolves
marked one as an “infidel,” since God alone had the power to
transform one species, such as human beings, into another, such as
wolves.
During
the Middle Ages, however, theologians took their cue from Augustine,
who seemed to believe in the possibility of werewolves.
Illustration of werewolves from Werewolves of Ossory by Gervase of Tilbury. Source: Wikipedia
In
Werewolves
of Ossory (c.
1200), Gervase of Tilbury suggests that such human-animal
transformations, including of men and women into wolves, having
actually been witnessed a number of times, should not be lightly
discounted as having occurred.
Source: ebay.com
Other
medieval works contended that God punished sinful men and women by
transforming them into werewolves and assured readers that anyone
that the Roman Catholic Church excommunicated would become werewolves
(Ian Woodward, The
Werewolf Delusion).
Both God and saints had the power to effect the transformations of
humans into werewolves, as St. Patrick was alleged to have done in
regard to the Welsh King Vereticus.
Witches Sabbath by Francisco Goya. Source: reddit.com
According
to Protestant Christianity, the witch,
another monstrous figure, known to both the ancients and the people
of the Middle Ages, gains her power—and most witches are female—by
entering a contract with a demon (M. M. Drymon, Disguised
as the Devil: How Lyme Disease Created Witches and Changed History).
Although Christian explanations of vampires, werewolves,
and witches developed over many years, changing or emphasizing
certain various features over others at times, it is clear that, in
general, such creatures were products of dark magic or of sinful
behavior, such as rebelling against God, blasphemy or heresy,
entering contracts with demons, or practicing pagan faiths.
In 1950s horror movies,
the military was called out, on occasion, to eliminate monsters. Less
frequently today, the armed forces sometimes carry out this duty. If
you've ever wondered how combined forces would take out Godzilla or
other monsters, the website We
Are the Mighty has the answers.
Taking down Godzilla would
involve mostly Air Force and Navy aircraft, with the Army playing a
supportive combat role involving tanks. Mostly, though, ground forces
would be used to evacuate civilians. For the answer to an even bigger
question, check out Military.com's
response to the query “Can
the Navy Handle a War Between King and Godzilla?”
According to the same
source,
zombies' threats would be twofold: surprise and superior numbers.
However, the Army, this time, would have the primary role and would
accomplish its objective by setting up a perimeter and channeling the
zombie horde into a narrow killing zone. If, for some reason, the war
turned into one of attrition, the Army would still win, since troops
have ample rations that can last five years, while zombies, cut off
from a ready supply of human brains, would run out of food fairly
soon.
The Army has also teamed
up with both vampires
and ghosts. Alerted to the fact that the Huks, Communist rebels
who'd taken up positions in the Philippines, were superstitious, U.
S. Army lieutenant colonel Edward G. Lansdale employed psychological
warfare against the insurgents. His troops spread the rumor that an
asuang (vampire) lived in the area. Then, they ambushed the last man
in a Huk patrol, punched holes in his jugular vein, and drained his
body of blood, before returning the bloodless corpse to the trail.
When the other rebels found his body, they were convinced that the
asuang had attacked him and ran for their lives. Government forces
reclaimed the area. Mission accomplished!
The recruitment of ghosts
was also successful. Aware of the superstitious belief of local enemy
forces that the souls of the unburied dead were doomed to wander
forever, tapes recorded by the U. S. Army featured “Buddhist
funeral music followed by a girl's cries for her father.” A ghost
replies to her grief with sorrow of his own, despondent that he chose
to fight a war in a far-flung field of battle rather than remain with
his family. Broadcast at various times, its doubtful that the enemy
was fooled by them; nevertheless, they didn't like to hear the tapes,
and it took a gunship to decimate the hostile ground forces. We
Are the Mighty links to the
chilling tape
recording!
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.
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.