Evolution, Psychology, and Horror, Part III

Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

 

Note: This post assumes that you have seen the movie Backcountry. If you have not, Wikipedia offers a fairly detailed, accurate summary of the film's plot.

 

 Source: boomstickcomics.com

As we saw in Part I, Alex is a foil to Jen; his traits, which are opposite to those of hers, highlight Jen's traits, or “evolved adaptations,” as they are known in evolutionary psychology. But, just as Alex is Jen's foil, Brad is a foil to Alex; Brad's traits are different from those of Alex and, therefore, highlight Alex's evolved adaptations, just as Alex's traits highlight those of Jen.

Source: netflix.com

Brad appears at Alex's and Jen's campsite while Alex is away, chopping firewood. After leaving his hatched stuck in a tree trunk, Alex returns to their campsite, where he is both surprised and annoyed to see Brad. Jen tells her boyfriend that she has invited Brad, a tour guide, to have dinner with them. Brad has offered to contribute a hefty string of fish he has caught.

Source: cinemamontreal.com

From the beginning of their encounter, Brad seeks to assert his dominance over Alex. Clearly, Brad is an alpha male, and he expects to lead, not follow, even if only during the meal he shares with his hosts. A skilled woodsman, Brad is confident, competent, knowledgeable, experienced, decisive, and aggressive.

Source: dailymotion.com

During their conversation, Brad suggests that, both as a woodsman and as a man, Alex is insecure, incompetent, ignorant, inexperienced, indecisive, and passive—the opposite of Brad himself. Brad's contribution to their meal are the fish that he himself has caught. Significantly, Jen provides her and Brad's contribution, which they bought in a store. Brad's contribution was caught, live, in the wild. Theirs was purchased in a package, already prepared. Brad's fish are animals; Jen's and Alex's contribution is bloodless vegetables harvested and packaged by strangers. When Jen offers to prepare a vegetable as a side dish, Alex chooses one kind, while Brad selects another. Jen sides with Alex, but Brad orders her to prepare the vegetable he wants, not the one Alex has chosen. Diplomatically, she says she will prepare both. Alex does not challenge Brad; he lets Jen answer their guest, despite Brad's usurpation of Alex's own authority as host.

 Source: fischpott.com

Brad also implicitly insults Brad. When Brad tells him that he plans to start a landscaping business, Brad replies, in a racist statement, that he that thought “Mexicans” did that type of work. On the other hand, Brad admires Jen's profession, law, which is, in Brad's view, superior to the manual labor that Alex names as his intended vocation. Brad has a “manly” profession: he is a tour guide with expert knowledge about the park, its trails, and its flora and fauna, a man at home in the wilderness, who can fend for himself while directing others in his charge.

Brad boldly violates propriety when he stands, his back to Jen and Alex, unzips his fly, and urinates. Most men would not only object to such conduct, but be willing to come to blows with any man who presumed to do such a thing in their girlfriends' presence. Alex neither says nothing to Brad nor reacts violently. He merely looks at Jen in disgust and says something to her: “Really?”

 Powassan, Ontario, Canada. Source: Wikipedia

Brad also impugns Alex's knowledge of the park that Alex claims to know well, asking him which side of the park's waterfall someone should climb down. When Alex correctly answers, “The right side,” Brad smirks. “Good guess,” he says.

Finally, as he is about to depart, Brad asks Alex what he'd meant when Alex had said Jen's inviting him to have dinner with them might have been dangerous. When Alex demurs from answering, Brad insists. Finally, Alex tells him that Jen did not know Brad; Brad had been a stranger. As far as Jen had known, Brad might have been “a nut.” By the time Brad takes his leave, he has dominated, insulted, humiliated, defied both Alex and Jen, but especially Alex. He has also make it clear that, in a hostile or dangerous encounter with nature, he is likely to triumph or, at least, survive; audiences cannot be as certain about Alex's fate under the same circumstances.

The conflict between Alex and Brad further defines Alex, just as his relationship with Jen defines him. In both cases, Alex loses. His traits, or evolved adaptations, might serve him well in other environments, but they are unlikely to help him survive in the wild, no matter how well he thinks he knows the provincial park or the ways of the woods and its wildlife.

Next post: Evolution, Psychology, and Final Girl.

 

Evolution, Psychology, and Horror, Part II

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

Source: Wikiepdia

Note: This post assumes that you have seen the movie Backcountry. If you have not, Wikipedia offers a fairly detailed, accurate summary of the film's plot.

 

As prompts for groups in my English 101 classes, after we had watched Backcountry (2014) and the class had been divided into groups, I would distribute these instructions:

 

Which personality traits (use nouns to identify them) are predicated or dependent upon others? Which are primary and which are secondary? In other words, can an immature person be responsible? Can a cowardly person defend someone else if doing so puts him or her in danger? In developing your thesis, you should consider these questions, so that your claim is not self-contradictory.

Fill in the three blanks with the TRAITS (use nouns to identify them) of Alex’s character that you see as related to his errors of judgment. (Make sure these errors lead to his death and to Jen’s endangerment.) Some of these errors may directly lead to consequences; others may indirectly do so. In your paragraphs, you should distinguish the former from the latter.

THESIS:  Alex’s ______________,   ______________, and ______________ lead him to make many errors of judgment that result in his death and Jen’s endangerment.

Based upon the thesis, write the body paragraph (1, 2, or 3) assigned to your group. The first sentence should be the paragraph’s topic sentence. Use simple present tense.

 

The blanks could be filled in with a variety of traits, but let's use this thesis for the purposes of this post:

 

THESIS:  Alex’s immaturity, self-interest, and impetuosity lead him to make many errors of judgment that result in his death and Jen’s endangerment.

 

If a trait is defined as an evolved adaptation, we must ask, how each of Alex's adaptations, or traits, promotes his survival and the chance that he will generate offspring through reproduction. Since he, in fact, does not survive and, therefore, cannot reproduce, the answer is apparent at once that his adaptations do not "work"; they do not enable him to survive. Quite the contrary, they are, essentially, the death of him—and nearly of Jen. Simple. Lacking the traits that do promote survival, he dies.

His girlfriend is the final girl, who survives their ordeal. Therefore, it is her traits, or adaptations, that we should examine.

In many ways, she is a foil, or opposite, to Alex. We could fill in the thesis's blanks with traits that are the opposite of Alex's own and produce a good summary of some of the adaptations that enable her to survive their ordeal:

 

THESIS:  Jen’s maturity, altruism, and caution lead her to make sound judgments that result in her survival.

 

Another way to approach our consideration is to identify the mistakes that each character makes during their visit to a provincial park in Canada.

 Source: allocine.fr

Let's start with Alex, who makes considerably more mistakes and more serious ones than Jen; as we list his errors, we will also characterize them as springing from poor judgment; an immature desire to impress Jen; inconsideration; deceitfulness; negligence; carelessness; an immature desire to focus Jen's attention on himself; or recklessness.

• He refuses the map of the camp that the ranger offers him: poor judgment; an immature desire to impress Jen. (Jen and Alex become lost and have no guidance out of the woods. His behavior could endanger their lives.)

• He leaves Jen's cell phone in the trunk of their vehicle: poor judgment; an immature desire to focus Jen's attention on himself; deceitfulness. (Without a phone, Alex and Jen have no way to call for help. His behavior could endanger their lives.)

• He neglects tending to his toe after dropping their canoe on it: poor judgment; an immature desire to impress Jen; recklessness. (He could have become incapacitated or died of an infection, so his neglect endangers himself and, possibly, Jen by making her more vulnerable.)

• He removes his clothes and leaps naked into a lake: poor judgment; recklessness. (He could injure himself on a rock in the lake and, without clothes to keep him warm, he could succumb to the cold, endangering his own life and potentially leaving Jen unprotected.)

• He leaves Jen alone to cut firewood: poor judgment. (By herself, she is vulnerable to animal attack or the assault of another camper; thus, he endangers her life.)

• He leaves his hatchet in the trunk of a tree: poor judgment. (He leaves a potential weapon behind, both depriving himself of its use and potentially arming a human predator; he thus endangers both Jen's life and his own.)

• He does not dismiss a stranger (Brad), whom, in Alex's absence, Jen invites to join Alex and her for dinner at their campsite: poor judgment. (The stranger, Brad, who happens upon Jen could be dangerous: he might have raped or killed Jen. His behavior could endanger their lives.)

• Even after learning that Brad is in the park, Alex again leaves Jen alone at their campsite, he leaves Jen alone again to retrieve the hatchet he's left embedded in a tree trunk: poor judgment. (By herself, she is vulnerable to animal attack or the assault of another camper; thus, he endangers her life.)

• He does not turn back when he sees bear prints: poor judgment; recklessness. (His inaction could endanger their lives.)

• He does not ell Jen that there is a bear in the area: poor judgment; deceitfulness. (Jen has bear spray and a traffic flare that they could use against the bear, but she is unaware of its presence. The bear could kill someone. His behavior endangers their lives.)

• He does not investigate noises that Jen hears during their first night in their tent: poor judgment. (His inaction could endanger their lives.)

• He sees a sapling's snapped-off branch, but ignores its significance: poor judgment; recklessness; deceitfulness. (His inaction could endanger their lives.)

• Even after seeing the carcass of a dead deer indicating the presence of a bear—and of a bear that is both starving (bears, otherwise, don't eat meat—and predatory)—Alex refuses to leave the park: poor judgment. (His decision could endanger their lives.)

• He continues to hike, deeper into the forest, even after he realizes he is lost: poor judgment; recklessness. (His action could endanger their lives.)

• He hastens up the trail ahead of Jen, leaving her vulnerable, as they ascend the mountainside: carelessness, inconsideration. (His inconsideration could endanger their lives.)

• Even after the bear visits their campsite, Alex refuses to leave the park: poor judgment; recklessness. (His refusal to leave the park endangers their lives.) 

• Alex leaves his axe outside the tent: carelessness. (He leaves a potential weapon behind, depriving himself of its use, which endangers their lives.)

  

  Source: showbizjunkies.com
   

Jen also makes several mistakes:

• She does not insist that Alex accept a park map from the ranger or accept one herself: poor judgment. (She and Alex could get lost. Her behavior could endanger their lives.)

• In Alex's absence, Jen invites Brad onto their campsite: poor judgment. (Since she does not know Brad, Jen could be endangering her and Alex's lives and could be putting herself in danger of being raped.)

• Jen does not insist that Alex make sure the “acorns” he says are falling on their tent really are acorns: poor judgment. (Her behavior could endanger their lives.)

• Jen does not insist that Alex take her home after she sees evidence of the nearby presence of a bear: poor judgment; recklessness: poor judgment; recklessness. (Her behavior could endanger their lives.)

• Jen returns to their campsite after the bear has killed Alex so she can retrieve the engagement ring he has shown her: poor judgment; recklessness. (Her behavior could endanger her life. lives.)

Source: anthonybehindthescenes.com

It seems that Jen's mistakes stem from her desire to support Alex and to prevent damage to his ego and self-esteem, from her needs to be friendly and to feel liked, and from her love of him.

Although she is a successful lawyer, while he plans to start a landscaping service, she often defers to his judgment and to his needs and desires, rather than pursuing or seeking to advance her own.

Rather than insisting that he accept the map of the park that the ranger offers him, Jen accepts his refusal, probably because she does not want to embarrass Alex by casting doubts on his knowledge of the park.

She invites Brad to join Alex and her because she is a friendly person.

Alex professes to be an expert on hiking and camping, especially at the park, which he implies he knows well. Jen probably refrains from insisting that Alex check out the unfamiliar sounds she hears while she and Alex are in their tent for the same reason that she does not insist that he take a map from the ranger: she does not want to embarrass Alex by casting doubts on his knowledge of the park.

It seems that, when it becomes clear they are, without doubt, lost, Jen does not insist that Alex take her home after she sees evidence of the nearby presence of a bear because she does she has feelings for him and may feel sorry for him. Likewise, after Alex's death, she returns to their campsite, despite the bear's presence, so that she can retrieve the engagement ring he has shown her, because she has feelings for Alex and wants a memento of his love for her.

Although Jen, like Alex, makes mistakes in judgment when she is with Alex, she is not a woodman and the couple's survival is not primarily her responsibility. In addition, she is not deceitful toward Alex, as he is to her.

When she is alone, after Alex's death, her decisions are wise, allowing her to survive the bear and the wilderness. The fact that she makes no mistakes when she is alone suggests that her romantic relationship with Alex clouded her judgment; without him, she makes clear, rational, wise decisions and takes prudent, effective action, which enables her to survive.

In adapting to his environment, Alex has developed traits which serve his emotional needs, but he lacks adaptations that pertain to practical, everyday matters, including traits related to analysis, evaluation, and survival. He is overconfident. He seeks to impress others, especially Jen. He wants to be the sole focus of Jen's attention. He is deceitful, often hiding the truth from Jen regarding their situation and the danger they face. He is careless at times and reckless. He is immature. He is irresponsible.

In a different environment, such as Jen's house or the city, such traits might not fail him, because his survival is protected by institutions (art and culture, commercial and industrial enterprises, economic systems, family, friends, government, hospitals, language, legal systems, mass media, military forces, penal systems, schools, scientific research laboratories, religion); organizations, such as charities, emergency responders, and fraternal societies; an infrastructure (energy, highways, railroads, rivers, warehouses).

Jen, on the other hand, although not without flaws of her own, is cautious, mature, responsible, and resourceful. She is a thinker; she analyzes, evaluates, and plans.
In the city, society has individuals' backs. In the wilderness, individuals need to be able to take care of themselves. Those who can, as Jen does, are likely to survive; those who cannot, as Alex does not, will probably die.

By putting to opposite characters side by side in an environment different that their typical surroundings, Backcountry tests the effectiveness of the respective characters' evolved adaptations. The unfamiliar surroundings, the remoteness of the park, the rugged terrain, the stranger Brad, and, of course, the bear all pose threats or potential threats; each tests the evolved adaptations, or the traits, and the behaviors of the couple. One perishes; the other survives. The reason for one's failure and the other's success is that Jen had evolved adaptations that are effective for survival in the wilderness, whereas Alex has not. Without the support of society, civilization, and culture, Alex cannot survive and dies; Jen can and lives. The park is an environment, an arena, a laboratory, that puts traits to the test. Jen passes, but Alex receives the Darwin Award.

Source:  alenatedinvancouver.blogspot,com

Next post: Evolution, Psychology, and Horror, Part II

Christian Explanations of Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

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.

Implications of Horror Fiction's Natural Antagonists

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

Bela Lugosi is Count Dracula. Source: Wikipedia.

In a previous post, we considered the ethical and metaphysical implications of supernatural villains. In this post, let's consider the implications of horror fiction's natural antagonists.

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.

Nietzsche, BDSM, and Horror

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

Friedrich Nietzsche. Source: thefamouspeople.com

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

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

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

 Alexander the Great. Source: Wikiquote.org

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

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

 Vacuum bed. Source: Wikimedia Commons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saw trap: en.wikipedia.org

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

Theatrical release poster. Source: wn.wikipedia.org
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Maitresse Francosie. Source: Wikipedia Commons.

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

Ethical and Metaphysical Implications of Supernatural Villains

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

 

 Twisted Tales series. Source: Amazon

Like all other genres of fiction, the literature of horror, a type of fantasy, expresses philosophical implications about the way its characters view the world, even if their Weltanschauung is not altogether clear to them.

 Witches' Sabbath by Francisco Goya. Source: Wikipedia.

The existence of a supernatural antagonist, or villain, posits the existence of  supernatural, or spiritual, dimension of existence as well as a natural order of being, both a supernatural world and a natural world.

 God as Architect by anonymous. Source: Wikipedia

In a story in which such a dualistic metaphysics exists, a supernatural villain is, by origin or nature, as its powers or abilities confirm, linked to a realm that transcends the natural world. Such beings are beyond the universe, outside nature. Therefore, they are also beyond human ken, outside human knowledge and understanding. Supernatural entities are mysterious, which tends to heighten our fear of them; the unknown is always especially frightening when it appears to have a threatening aspect, as, of course, villains, human or otherwise, do.

 

 St. Francis Borgia Helping a Dying Impenitent by Francisco Goya. Source: Wikipedia

The question arises as to whether an audience whose members disbelieve in the existence of a supernatural order (and, therefore, of course, supernatural antagonists) can experience fear while watching a movie such as, say, The Exorcist, the villain of which is a demon (or, maybe, the devil himself), A Nightmare on Elm Street, which features a supernatural bogeyman, or Poltergeist, the antagonist of which is a not-so-friendly ghost. Of course, the same question also applies to any movie that posits the existence of a vampire, a werewolf, a witch, or any other supernatural villain.

 Source: Gallup.

As far as I know, no one has conducted a study, or even a poll, concerning this particular question, although, in 2005, Gallp conducted a few polls concerning whether or not Americans believe in various supernatural (and paranormal) beings, with the results well under half. (However, the poll seems flawed, since it includes "aliens," which, should they be discovered to exist, would be entirely natural beings, not supernatural entities, since "nature" constitutes the entire universe and everything in it, which is why we say that God, a supernatural being, for example, is transcendent to, or beyond, nature and, in fact, in many religious traditions, created the universe.)

Detail from The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch. Source: Wikipedia Commons 

However, based on a thoughtful thread of posts on Religious Forums, materialists (those who believe that the universe and all things in it are material and that spirits, souls, and the like do not exist except as imaginary or metaphorical constructs) are likely to experience a continuum of feelings, from a lack of fear altogether to terror, when they come across a villain the likes of the devil, Freddy Krueger, or a poltergeist, whether or they believe such villains exist--or can exist.

 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Source: ardhendude.blogspot.com

 For example, Mister Silver seems to employ the strategy of "a willing suspension of disbelief" suggested by the great English romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, accepting the existence of the supernatural in a horror story or movie simply for the sake of enjoying the fiction: "Through my materialism I can understand the difference between fantasy and reality enough for me to enjoy the fantasy for that which it is; merely fantasy created for the purpose of entertainment."

Zener cards. Source: Wikipedia

Jumi follows a tactic that is more prevalent among today's skeptical materialists: "You're in luck, materialism itself doesn't rule out strange phenomenon from existing. It just doesn't actively promote these ideas. The materialistic Soviet Union had multiple researchers study paranormal phenomena in hopes of finding something useful to further the materialist dialectic.

The problem with this approach, in general, is that it is often based on a confusion of the supernatural with the paranormal. Materialism, by definition, does rule out the supernatural. The universe is nature; therefore, anything that is held to transcend nature, to be "outside" the universe (e. g., God, angels, demons) or wields supernatural power (e. g., performs miracles or magic or otherwise defies natural [or, as we call them today, scientific laws]) would be supernatural and, therefore, in materialists' view, impossible, because nonexistent. However, paranormal phenomena are possible, perhaps, if, by "paranormal," we mean simply natural beings, properties, or powers of natural origin that ares imply not known or understood through science or reason. For example, if extra-sensory perception does exist, but it is simply inexplicable in terms of present-day science or reason, then it is possible; it may even be actual. Until it can be explained, however, it remains merely a possibility, but a possibility, nonetheless. Jumi's statement, therefore, seems to be related more to the possibility of paranormal phenomena, rather than to the possibility of supernatural facts and events.

In either case, either Coleridge's "willing suspension of disbelief" strategy or the more fashionable recognition of the possible existence of paranormal, but not supernatural, phenomena can allow materialists to enjoy, and even, perhaps, be scared by, the literature and drama of horror.

 

The Horrors of Psychological Warfare

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L.Pullman

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!

 

Check out We Are the Mighty for stories on Bigfoot, the Yucca Man, UFOs and aliens, Area 51, and other matters both supernatural and otherworldly.

An Essay on the Monstrous

 Copyright 2021 by Gary L. Pullman

Source: Public domain

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.