“The Black Spider”

Albert Bitzius (1797-1854) was a Swiss pastor and author, who is better known by his pen name of Jeremias Gotthelf.  Gotthelf was a prolific writer whose novels and stories were based on the people of his village, Luetzelflueh, in the Bernese Emmental.

Albert Bitzius  (Jeremias Gotthelf) circa 1844
Albert Bitzius
(Jeremias Gotthelf)
circa 1844

Gotthelf is considered an important writer not only in Switzerland, but also as an important writer throughout the German-speaking world.  Gotthelf’s works were primarily what we would today consider mainstream literature, but he did write one short novel that would be considered horror and for which he is renown:  The Black Spider.  Wikipedia notes:

The Black Spider is Gotthelf’s best known work. At first little noticed, the story is now considered by many critics to be among the masterworks of the German Biedermeier era and sensibility.  Thomas Mann wrote of it in his The Genesis of Doctor Faustus that Gotthelf “often touched the Homeric” and that he admired The Black Spider “like no other piece of world literature.” [Thomas Mann quotation from One World Classics.]

The story can be read in the original German at Projekt Gutenberg DE.  A good synopsis can be found at Wikipedia.

I read The Black Spider as an undergrad around 1979.  It sticks in my mind to this day.  Admittedly,  I had to read the Wikipedia synopsis to recall all the details, but over the decades I can still picture the hunter/the devil kissing Christine on the cheek knowing something evil would come from that simple, slightly stinging kiss and then the outpouring of thousands of murderous spiders from that spot when she breaks her oath to him.  Somehow I can still recall how I felt the loathsome horror of that moment for her, not as if it were happening to me, but almost as if it were happening to someone standing next to me, as if it were happening to someone I knew.  Perhaps this is because I sympathized with her goal.  Christine was trying to save her village, her friends, and her family from starvation and overwork at the hands of a merciless overlord.  The only way she could do it was to try to outwit the devil at the risk of horrendous consequences if she failed…and she did fail.  I think it was the nobility and selflessness of Christine’s altruism that  still sticks with me emotionally after thirty years.  The Russian author Anton Chekhov once advised writers to write with “sympathetic characters”;  this is undoubtedly a terrific example of that principle. 

The Black Spider by Franz Karl Basler-Kopp  (1879-1937)
The Black Spider
by Franz Karl Basler-Kopp
(1879-1937)

One writing class I had several years ago advised to establish an “intellectual and emotional connection” between the audience and the subject.   That has always proven to be excellent advice.  In the case of “The Black Spider”, Gotthelf certainly established an emotional connection between Christine and myself.   There have been times in my life, as in  the lives of everyone else, when I have made sacrifices for the good of others (though of course not with the horrendous consequences that Christine suffers). Perhaps that is what enables us, the audience, to sympathize with Christine’s plight and to experience her torment vicariously.

Thinking back, it is with the characters with whom I have some type of shared experience, that I sympathize the most  when something horrific happens to them.  If we, as writers of horror, are to give our stories great emotional impact, then we have to develop characters that have their foundations in everyday experiences which our audiences can share.   Lovecraft advised having average people as characters, because this made the supernatural appear truly supernatural.   In “The Black Spider” all of Gotthelf’s characters are quite average, thus the supernatural events of the story strike home with great impact.  Perhaps that is because we can visualize these events more clearly on some level as if we were watching them occur to our neighbors.  Most of the characters in Stephen King’s writing seem to me to be quite average and we feel the same sympathy for their predicaments, because they are average..like us.

Sometimes, when I am reading an engrossing text in a quiet environment where I can fully concentrate on the text, I seem to almost slip into a nebulous world where I am experiencing the story as if I were in a lucid dream.   With sympathetic characters like Christine, what little remains to separate myself from that dream world is shattered and I feel their sufferings much more acutely, as if they were happening to me, as if I were actually living the experience.

For me, being able to shatter that barrier between dream world and reality for my audience is part of the magic of writing.  After all, isn’t magic the creation of illusion?

Thoughts?  Comments?

Horror and Imagination

"The Pit and the Pendulum" Illustration by Arthur Rackham, 1935
“The Pit and the Pendulum”
Illustration by Arthur Rackham, 1935

A day or two ago, I finished reading volume 1 of Clive Barker’s Books of Blood.   His style is beautiful; his choice of words is meticulous; his characters are carefully interwoven; and his imagination is mind-boggling.  If you haven’t read this and you call yourself a fan of horror, you should probably be ashamed (I feel ashamed that I have not read him before now).   You are missing out on some terrific stories.  Now I understand why Stephen King called him “the future of horror”.

But of all his praiseworthy attributes, the one that stands out from all the others is his imagination.   I cannot even imagine how he formulates his ideas.   For “Midnight Meat Train”, was he just riding a subway and wonder “where does this go? What’s at the end of the line? Maybe there are cannibals at the end of the line?  Where did they come from?”  How did he associate cannibals with a subway?  [Of course, this is all speculation I am just pulling out of the air.  I have read nothing about Barker’s gifted imagination.  I am using my own imagination and my experience in developing stories to speculate about his methods.]

I heard some place many years ago that genius is not seeing the similarities between apples and oranges (anyone can see the differences), but seeing the similarities between apples and tractors–or in this case, seeing the possible connections between cannibals and subways.

In “In the Hills, the Cities” How did he come up with the concept of giants made of tens of thousands of people functioning together as a single entity?  Was he thinking of the original druid burning men and wonder, “what if they were bigger and could come alive?”

To come up with stories such as these, one must think completely out of the box, out of the established paradigm (per Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance).

The more I read of works like this, the more I take to heart the advice I see occasionally from publishers that they do not want to see more werewolf-vampire-zombie (wvz) stories or that wvz stories must be very well done to be published.  I enjoy wvz stories as much as the next reader, but if I were a publisher, I do not know if I could stomach seeing hundreds come across my desk in a month for years on end.

In his work “Supernatural Horror in Literature”, Lovecraft stresses the importance of an element of the supernatural being present in what he then termed “weird fiction” because if anything is possible, then there are no longer any physical laws of reality to shield us from the horrors that may actually be in the universe.  Barker does exactly that.  In his writing, there are no limits to what may happen to any one at any time.  We are all under the threat of horrific annihilation at any moment.

Likewise, another of Lovecraft’s bits of advice is that characters must be ordinary people so that the appearance of the supernatural will be obvious and stronger than if the characters were all super characters.   This makes sense.  Superman is only super when he is on earth;  he would be just another overworked taxpayer on Krypton.  From what I have seen so far in volume 1 of Books of Blood, all of Barker’s characters are quite ordinary people caught up in quite extraordinary and horrible circumstances.  Perhaps his way of characterization is genius in itself.   I think anyone can make up a fantastic character, but to make someone real, to make a genuine person and have their character show through, when it is easier to make up a shallow one or two dimensional stick figure…isn’t that a form of genius in its own right?   In terms of characterization, Barker’s imagination does not tend to the supernatural, but to the perceptive and to the meticulous.  [No, I haven’t read The Hellbound Heart yet but I have read “The Yattering and Jack”, and I feel confident that when I do finally encounter Pinhead (I have seen a few of the Hellraiser series), he will certainly not be two-dimensional even though he is definitely supernatural.]

But I digress.

The upshot of all this is that as writers we should push our imaginations to the limits, exploring new ways of coming up with ideas, and disdain themes and motifs that have been worked to death for decades.  That is a great part of the challenge of writing.  Though I love classic literature such as that by Hemingway and Fitzgerald, their works do not push the limits of the imagination as do the writers of speculative fiction such as Barker and Lovecraft or Bradbury and Asimov.  Writers of speculative fiction are explorers of the imagination.

But of the subgenres of speculative fiction, where does that leave writers of horror?

It leaves us as explorers of the dark arts of the imagination.  Whereas writers of science fiction and fantasy may push into better worlds like Magellan sailing around the globe, we authors of horror push into the dark, threatening, forbidding areas of the imagination, much as the conquistadors pushed into the Central American jungles or intrepid British explorers pushed along the Congo or Amazon in search of wealth or lost cities.  Indeed, it could be said that we are searching for metaphorical lost cities in the recesses of the mind,  seeking long-hidden worlds surrounded by mystery and horror.

If life is a journey, then we, as writers of horror are choosing the most terrifying journey through the imagination that we can, because we love the thrill of being faced with horror on every side.

Thoughts?  Comments?

The Canon of Horror

"The Tell-Tale Heart" Illustration by Arthur Rackham, 1935
“The Tell-Tale Heart”
Illustration by Arthur Rackham, 1935

I was just musing that if a canon of horror literature could be developed, what should it include?   This would be a collection of say ten works that define horror literature and that everyone seriously interested in horror should read if he/she they wish to learn what horror is and should be.   This would not be a collection of the most popular works (whether novel, short story, essay, screenplay, theater, etc.) of horror, which would change constantly, but ten works which would define horror now and forever as the Bible does Christianity, as the Koran does Islam, and as the Analects of Confucius do Confucianism.   These should be eternal works that at the end of time, after the Zombie Apocalypse when no more books are written, the few remaining survivors of humanity can review all the literary works of all time and say, “These ten defined the horror genre.”  Of course, this canon will be forever debated, but lively, engaged discussion is the fun of a list like this.

To start off this conversation, here are my initial ten recommendations (subject to change as my reading progresses).  I will keep this list to one work from each of ten authors so that works by one author do not overwhelm the list.  This is not in any order of priority or preference–just as they pop into my mind.   Although these reflect my own reading (which tends to the past more than the present), I have added one or two authors I haven’t read, but from what I understand, have made significant contributions to the horror genre.

  1. “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe
  2. Books of Blood by Clive Barker
  3. Carrie by Stephen King
  4. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
  5. “The Shadow over Innsmouth” by H.P. Lovecraft
  6. “Lukundoo” by Edward Lucas White
  7. “The Sandman” by E.T. A. Hoffmann
  8. Dracula by Bram Stoker
  9. “The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood
  10. Psycho by Robert Bloch
  11. I am Legend by Richard Matheson

The Zombie Response Mechanized Division

Based on my site stats, one of my most popular posts has been the one on the local Zombie Response Vehicle.  What has been mind-blowing to me, is that “zombie response vehicle” is one of the most popular search terms people use to find their way to my humble blog.   Out of curiosity, I went to Google images to see what other zombie response vehicles I could find.  The results were even more mind-blowing.  There are a LOT of zombie response vehicles out there.  I heartily recommend a quick search to see what turns up.   In the meantime, I have posted a few of the most interesting ones here.   I have tried to limit my selection to ones you are most likely to see on the street (as opposed to artists’ conceptions, corporate advertising, antiquated military vehicles, etc.), with a few exceptions that I thought were too funny to pass up.

 

from zombiehunters.org
from zombiehunters.org

 

from ca.autoblog.com
from ca.autoblog.com

 

from adadddyblog.com
from adadddyblog.com

 

from extraordinaryintelligence.com
from extraordinaryintelligence.com

 

zombie hunting vehicle 1 from blog.1aauto.com
zombie hunting vehicle 1 from blog.1aauto.com

 

zombie car from gravitysmacked.co.uk
zombie car from gravitysmacked.co.uk

 

Zombie Bus Mock Up warningsides from zombiehunters.org
Zombie Bus Mock Up warningsides from zombiehunters.org

 

from winblog.org
from winblog.org

 

light cavalry zombie attack vehicle from forums.gunsandammo.com
light cavalry zombie attack vehicle from forums.gunsandammo.com

 

from theimpendingdoom.com
from theimpendingdoom.com

 

from halloweenforum.com
from halloweenforum.com

 

from zombiesallover.blogspot.com
from zombiesallover.blogspot.com

 

from reddit.com
from reddit.com

 

from ok4wd.com
from ok4wd.com

 

from luxury4play.com
from luxury4play.com

 

from jmartini.blogspot.com
from jmartini.blogspot.com

 

from imgur.com
from imgur.com

 

from flickr.com
from flickr.com

 

from broncograveyard.com
from broncograveyard.com

 

from flickr.com
from flickr.com

 

from dfwmustangs.net
from dfwmustangs.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trivia for the Day: Horror, Humor, and Flatulent Demons

If you would like a short trip to the weird side of the horror news, follow the link to a law article about a case in Romania in which a couple sued four priests for failing to rid their home of flatulent demons:  Romanian Religious Malpractice.

Recommendation: The Popular Uncanny

I found a fascinating article just now that I highly recommend visiting:  “Winter Chills with Mike Arnzen”.  You can find it at http://nonhorrorreadersurvey.wordpress.com/2010/12/21/winter-chills-with-mike-arnzen/.  It is a fascinating look into how Freud’s concept of the Uncanny can be found in modern horror and in popular culture.    It is worth checking out.

What music inspires you to horror?

Poster from Johannascheezburger.com via Halloween Mike's Horror Everyday on Facebook.
Poster from Johannascheezburger.com via Halloween Mike’s Horror Everyday on Facebook.

For the first time in a long time, I was listening to CDs on the car stereo as I drove back from Farmington (New Mexico) on the 14th, when I started feeling once again the latent but powerful emotions I associate with certain songs.  The songs in question were Puddle of Mudd’s “Spaceship” from Songs in the Key of Love and Hate and “Would?” from Alice in Chains’s Dirt.  When I was not that much younger than I am now, I used to listen to a broad range of music (from classical to hard rock to New Age and more) almost constantly.  Therefore it will not be surprising if I state that others that stir me range from ACDC’s “Back in Black” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” to  Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” and Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, and, for a complete change of pace, to Enya’s “Orinoco Flow” and Michael Gettel’s San Juan Suite, both of which seem to stir not a tumult of emotions, but instead have the opposite effect and cause me to almost drift away on a sea of tranquility.

As I am sure is the case with most people, I find all my favorite songs enjoyable, but there were, and still are, some that stir me deeply and can even now resurrect feelings of intense excitement and passion as if I were reliving my “Glory Days” (which, by the way, is an excellent Springsteen tune that really hits home these days).

Out of those that stir my emotions the most, are a select group that have a certain je ne sais quois, a combination of primal rhythm, deep-toned vocalization, and soul-stirring guitar riffs,  that do not stimulate the intellect as much as they instigate remote, subconscious parts of the mind to coalesce into a riot of images shaping themselves into the essential kernel of some grim tale that I know I can nurture, expand, and carefully, painstakingly mold into a narrative that would enthrall Dante or Milton–had I the time or unswerving diligence to concentrate on its writing.

“Enter Sandman” by Metallica is an excellent example of this.  Even though the song is about the destruction of a family (according to Wikipedia), something about it compels me to write an intricate novel of espionage, assassination, betrayal, deception, and the inner horrors of the human psyche that paces back and forth in the recesses of my mind like a tiger in a cage, watching for an opportunity to spring forth into the light of day upon an unsuspecting yet willing audience.   I have probably  20,000-30,000 or more words in the current draft of this story and I will probably trash most of these the next time I sit down to tackle this task.    One day I will have to dedicate myself to finishing the story, because this is the only way I know I will be able to rid myself of the tiger’s pacing and of his relentless stare that bores into the back of my neocortex.  As my life stands now, between chores at home and working 50-60 hours per week at my day job, I can find little time during an average week to work on the various short stories, novelettes, and novellas I have started over the past year.

Sad to say, I have two or three good novels that have been waiting over a decade or more for their genesis.  Probably with each of them I associate some tune from my more turbulent past, if not with the entire work, then with at least some scene that plays over and over in my head like a teaser clip from a movie trailer.

For me, this is one of the delicious agonies of being a writer.  I have so many fascinating concepts whirling through my head that I just know instinctively can be great works and that I enjoy revisiting whenever I have a few seconds to daydream but the lack of time in my daily life stymies their creation.

My question to you tonight, is are there musical works that inspire you to create works of horror and terror?

Hanns Heinz Ewers: A First Impression

Hanns Heinz Ewers 1871-1943
Hanns Heinz Ewers
1871-1943

The first paragraph of the Wikipedia article (as of April 17, 2013) gives a good, very basic introduction to Hanns Ewers:

Hanns Heinz Ewers (3 November 1871 in Düsseldorf – 12 June 1943 in Berlin) was a German actor, poet, philosopher, and writer of short stories and novels. While he wrote on a wide range of subjects, he is now known mainly for his works of horror, particularly his trilogy of novels about the adventures of Frank Braun, a character modeled on himself. The best known of these is Alraune (1911).[1][2]

The article continues on to describe some of his literary achievements:

“This was followed in 1911 by Alraune, a reworking of the Frankenstein myth, in which Braun collaborates in creating a female homunculus or android by impregnating a prostitute with the semen from an executed murderer. The result is a young woman without morals, who commits numerous monstrous acts. Alraune was influenced by the ideas of the eugenics movement, especially the book Degeneration by Max Nordau.[4] Alraune has been generally well received by historians of the horror genre; Mary Ellen Snodgrass describes Alraune as “Ewers’ decadent masterwork”,[2] Brian Stableford argues Alraune “deserves recognition as the most extreme of all “femme fatale” stories” [4] and E.F. Bleiler states the scenes in Alraune set in the Berlin underworld as among the best parts of the novel.[3] The novel was filmed several times, most recently by Erich von Stroheim in 1952.

Bleiler notes “Both Alraune and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice are remarkable for the emotion the author can arouse” and that Ewers’ writing is, at its best, “very effective”. However, Bleiler also argues Ewers’ work is marred by “annoying pretentiousness, vulgarity, and a very obtrusive and unpleasant author’s personality”.[3]

So far I have read only two of Ewers’ short stories:  “The Spider”, described as his “most anthologized work”, and “Fairyland”.   I will need to read more of his works to be able to speak with some degree of confidence that I know what I am talking about, but my first impression of Ewers’ works is one of disappointment.

I read both works in English (though I speak German with moderate fluency), and his command of composition, organization, language, clarity, and suspense are competent enough, but at least the stories noted above seem to fall apart at having a comprehensible denouement, and in the area of having good taste.

“The Spider” starts off well enough with a great opening paragraph that sets the stage for suspense:

“When the student of medicine, Richard Bracquemont, decided to move
into room #7 of the small Hotel Stevens, Rue Alfred Stevens (Paris 6),
three persons had already hanged themselves from the cross-bar of the
window in that room on three successive Fridays.”

As the story develops, Bracquemont volunteers to work with the police in finding out why the three previous residents killed themselves by reporting what he sees during his stay.  He records his observations in a diary.  Over the next three or so weeks, Bracquemont begins observing a girl in another room across the street, who constantly spins at an old-fashioned spinning wheel.  He begins to be attracted to her, he waves to her, they develop games to play over the distance (mimicking each other, etc.), he becomes infatuated with her, and obsession sets in all the while there are subtle hints of analogies between her and a female spider luring her mate to its death.   I will not spoil the ending for you, if you want to read it (I read the version at Project Gutenberg Australia), but I will say that the story seemed rather drawn out and the ending was confusing with no real explanation as to why the story ends as it does.  I suppose one could say it was “black magic”, as one critic noted, but there is nothing alluding to black magic anywhere previously in the story.  The ending is sort of deus ex machina and very unsatisfying.

Fairyland” is worse.  It’s only virtue is that it is very short.   It is the story of a cute little girl on a tramp steamer in Port-au-Prince who is the darling of the crew and who tells them of wonderful monsters she has seen ashore, monsters with enormous heads and limbs and scales.  She offers to show them to the crew and the crew agrees to go along wondering what she has found.   Not far from the docks, she shows them the local beggars who have enormous limbs from having contracted elephantiasis or scales from leprosy or a similar skin disease.  While the crew is obviously overcome with disgust, the little girl prattles on about how cute the monsters are.

I am not one to berate anyone else over a lack of taste, but whoever published this deserved a good horsewhipping for deciding to put this atrocity in the public view.   It is one of the more tasteless things I have ever seen.   However, I will discourage anyone from reading it.  After all, it is a matter of taste and we are dealing with matters of horror.

So far, Ewers is the one author of horror I have been most disappointed by.  Still I will read at least a few more of his works before I solidify my opinion.   At some point I may read Alraune only because it is his best known work, but from what I have seen of its reviews, it may be a struggle for me to wade through horrors which only the Marquis de Sade would appreciate.

Perhaps Ewers does deserve his accolades.  I will only know by exploring his works further.  So far though, I am not looking forward to the journey, which I make only out of intellectual curiosity.

There is one interesting sidelight about Ewers for fans of cinematic horror.  One reviewer commented somewhere (I forget where) that Alraune was the original inspiration for genetically-mutated femme fatales like the alien in the Species trilogy.

Thoughts?  Comments?

Maurice Level

Maurice Level 1875-1926
Maurice Level
1875-1926

I had never heard of Maurice Level (the pseudonym of Jeanne Mareteux-Level) before tonight, but after reading a couple of his short stories and a few critques of his work in general, I shall have to find more of his stories.

Level was a French writer known for his macabre stories, which were sometimes staged in the renown Theater of the Grand Guignol.    Wikipedia says this about him:

“…Level’s short stories may be weak in characterization and motivation, but they are strong on obsession and violence. Their surprise endings are reminiscent of the stories of Guy de Maupassant. Many of Level’s stories were translated into English in the magazine Weird Tales. [1] As editor John Robert Colombo noted in Stories of Fear and Fascination (2007), Battered Silicon Dispatch Box French critics see Level as the heir of the Symbolist writer Villiers de l’Isle-Adam; British critics, as the successor of Edgar Allan Poe; American critics, as the contemporary of H. P. Lovecraft. Of this fiction, Lovecraft himself observed in Supernatural Horror in Literature (1945), “This type, however, is less a part of the weird tradition than a class peculiar to itself–the so-called conte cruel, in which the wrenching of the emotions is accomplished through dramatic tantalizations, frustrations, and gruesome physical horrors.” Critic Philippe Gontier wrote, “We can only admire, now almost one hundred years later, the great artistry with which Maurice Level fabricated his plots, with what care he fashioned all the details of their unfolding and how with a master’s hand he managed the building of suspense.” Level’s stories, with their gratuitous acts and mindless brutality, may be seen as precursors of “thriller” fiction and “slasher” films.”

A few of Level’s works can be found on the Internet.   I read two tonight: “Under the Red Lamp” and “Last Kiss”.  They are quite brief and quite terrifying.  In my view, the Wikipedia article above provides a good assessment of what I have read so far.  Level begins a story with a first sentence that grabs your attention, then sustains the mystery throughout the tale, until you reach a sudden, horrifying, denouement.

I highly recommend investigating his works when you have the time.  He is an excellent writer that deserves more recognition than he has.

Here are a few places to start:

“The Last Kiss” at Moonlightstories.magick7.com  A husband, blinded and hideously deformed when his wife threw vitriol in his  face after he threatened to leave her, intervenes on her behalf when the case  comes to court, preventing her from receiving a long jail sentence. At his  request she pays him an emotional visit in which she begs his forgiveness and  somehow even manages to kiss him, whereupon … Well, not for nothing is Level  feted as a master practitioner of the conte cruel. (Synopsis from vaultofevil.proboards.com)

“In the Light of the Red Lamp” at amalgamatedspooks.com “In the first shock of grief, you sometimes have extraordinary ideas … can you  believe that I photographed her lying on her deathbed? I took my camera into the  white, silent room, and lit the magnesium wire. Yes, overwhelmed as I was with  grief, I did with the most scrupulous precaution and care things from which I  should shrink today, revolting things … yet it is a great consolation to know  she is there, that I shall be able to see her again as she looked that last  day.”  Now, six months after his beloved’s death, accompanied by the  narrator he prepares to develop the photographs of the dead woman. Slowly the  images appear – and a horrible tragedy is revealed.  (Synopsis from vaultofevil.proboards.com)

“The Grip of Fear” at Google Books  (I haven’t read this yet, but it looks interesting.)

Apparently, many of his works are still available only in French, but some (notably those mentioned above) are available in English.   His better known works are:  Those who Return, Tales of Mystery and Horror, Tales of the Grand Guignol, Les Portes de L’Enfer, The Grip of Fear, and L’Epouvante.

Thoughts?  Comments?

Lovecraft on the Supernatural

H.P. Lovecraft, 1915
H.P. Lovecraft, 1915

 

I was reading Lovecraft’s “Supernatural Horror in Literature” the other day when I came across this line concerning the nature of  the “weird tale”:

“A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and protentiousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain — a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those fixed laws of Nature which are our only daily safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space.”

With me, this idea hit home.  I have always thought that the more realistic I could make a story, the more frightening it would be for the reader, because it could possibly happen. Lovecraft takes the complete opposite approach.  In essence, he says let’s dispense with the chains of our preconceptions of reality then see what could happen.   He is right.  If anything can happen, the horrors that could happen to humanity are limitless and unimaginable.

Now let’s take this line of thought a step or two further philosophically.  Perhaps our concept of reality is really a sort of protective shell, a defense mechanism created by our minds that shields us from being overwhelmed by the thousands of possible ways we could meet our ends.  If a person tried to conceive of all the ways he/she might die at any moment, no matter how miniscule the odds, his/her mind might be overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear or destroyed by paranoia and madness.   The only way the mind could survive would then be to limit the possibilities to only those with the greatest probability of happening at that moment, in essence, wrapping itself in a protective cocoon of denial.

If there are any philosophy majors out there reading this, please feel free to bring up this idea in class.  I would love to hear the arguments for and against this.

Now, let’s go a step even further.   If we start to see our perception of reality as only a concept, as only a protective shell in a much greater universe, as only one alternative among thousands or millions of possibilities, then the possibility of creatures like Cthulhu, Shoggoth, Nylarhotep, the “ancient ones”, and all the other monsters contained in Lovecraft’s vivid imagination becomes very real.

Lovecraft’s world of the “ancient ones” is frightening enough when we think it has no chance of happening, but it becomes truly terrifying if we think it has even the slightest chance of actually happening.

Thoughts?  Comments?

The “Dracula” Conversation

 

 

I am a member of GoodReads.com as are several of my friends.  One, a gentleman named Tim Stamps, whom I have known since my college days at Eastern Kentucky University, recently posted a review of Dracula, on which I commented.  Thus began a brief conversation which I think you may find interesting for several reasons.   I have quoted it below, editing out any non-relevant personal matters (after having obtained Tim’s permission to post it).

 

Tim Stamps’s Reviews > Dracula

16399814

Tim Stamps‘s review

Apr 06, 13
I could only read this during the Winter months, when the weather is cloudy, dark and gloomy. When I read fiction I prefer the classics, to learn how people thought in earlier times. The actual character of Dracula was the most un-interesting of the characters in the book. It turns out that Stoker only knew Vlad’s Dracula name but knew nothing of his past, and the character is actually based more on Jack the Ripper.  Also it was interesting to read a book made up of supposed diary entries and newspaper articles – although most actual diaries and articles written by everyday people are nowhere near as long and detailed, especially back then when paper was scarce. I understand Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in the same format, and other books of that time did the same.  If you can find a copy, listen to the first half hour of this Coast to Coast show: http://www.coasttocoastam.com/show/20…
 message 1:      by      Phil          –            rated it 4 stars
Phil Slattery      Tim, if you like reading classic horror tales like Dracula, then you should definitely read Frankenstein. Others you may want to check out are The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, the works of Algernon Blackwood, Lord Dunsany, Arthur Machen, and Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu.  I have been writing horror lately and have established a blog on it that often discusses past writers of the horror genre. You may want to check it out at www.philslattery.wordpress.com.  You may find some of the authors I discuss of interest. One who is known more as a writer of science fiction than of horror (though the boundary is often indistinct at best) is H.G. Wells who wrote The Time Machine, War of the Worlds, The Island of Dr. Moreau, and others.
Tim Stamps      True, I definitely plan to read Frankenstein. Also have been planning on getting into Wuthering Heights and the Brönte sisters books. I’ve always been a fan of H.G. Wells, also Orwell’s dystopian works – still trying to get around to reading Huxley’s Brave New World (when I find my copy) – I can also add ebooks to a kindle, but the kindle doesn’t exactly replace paper.   I’ve depended on the movies too much – finding lots of extra details in the books that the films leave out. (I don’t really spend much time reading actually.) I’ll explore your site.. thanks! By the way, are there any horror films you really like?  Or gothic tales.  There don’t seem to be many recent ones that play into fears as well as the older ones. Some of the classics: “The Innocents” (version of Henry James’ “Turn of the Screw”), George Romero’s “Martin”, “The Exorcist”, even “The Shining” and the early “Halloween” pictures.  Recent films like “The Ring” and “the Sixth Sense” have potential.   I read in your blog that to be a great horror writer you need to understand the psychology and emotions of fear. Perhaps horror screenplay writers nowadays need to go back to the basics – just slashing people up and showing gruesome killings isn’t enough to heighten the sense of fear.  They seem to have forgotten Hitchcock and his methods of manipulating people’s emotions, although that was a time when people actually paid attention to dialog. I don’t know what it’s going to take to make a great horror movie today. Is it even possible?
Phil SlatteryTim wrote: “True, I definitely plan to read Frankenstein. Also have been planning on getting into Wuthering Heights and the Brönte sisters books. I’ve always been a fan of H.G. Wells, also Orwell’s dystopian w…”
Yes, you are right in all accounts, except that modern screenplay writers need to go back to the basics.  They cannot go back to someplace they have never been.   They need to learn the basics first. Stephen King identifies three types of horror:  horror, the gross-out, and terror (the exact lengthy quote can be found on GoodReads).  Modern, popular, mass-market screenplay writers use the gross-out form to excess. The great horror writers of the past (such as Lovecraft, Poe, Blackwood, etc.) never described anything gross.  Yet their tales are terrifying.   There is an art to horror, and Hitchcock’s concept of suspense (i.e. terror lies not in seeing something happen, but in knowing that something is about to happen) is one of the best means of achieving horror.
There are great horror movies today, but one has to veer away from the mass-market and Hollywood to find them.  Independent films and small companies are your best shot:  someone who cares about the art.  Netflix and Hulu TV are good for finding these (and finding them cheaply at that).  The series American Horror Story is quite entertaining, though it can be bloody at times. Foreign films can be an excellent source with Japan, Korea, England, Australia, and Spain coming immediately to mind. I noted that your profile says you are in the Seattle area now.  Lion’s Gate Films in Vancouver, BC makes some good films (outside of the horrifyingly gross-out Saw series).
I have seen some good horror films lately, but am having a hard time recalling their names, therefore I am reviewing some lists of top horror films on line, but of course that isn’t helping much as the lists are mass-market oriented.  One that pops out now is the original Swedish version of “Let the Right One In”.  “Dagon”, a Spanish film based somewhat loosely on a Lovecraft story (“The Shadow over Innsmouth”) is not bad. The New Zealand film “The Devil’s Island” has some interesting ideas behind it, though it is quite bloody.  That’s all I can think of on the spur of the moment.
Tim Stamps      hi Phil, Sorry about “Seattle” – don’t know how that happened (I must’ve not filled it in – the site just guessed or something.) Anyway, actually I am (still) in… I love watching foreign horror… for 70s-era foreign horror, Dario Argento comes to mind, although he leans toward the gross-out variety.  Lovecraft-written films are always great. I’ll check out these you mention (and any others you run across) – if you come up with a list of interesting foreign horror for the last 3 decades or so let me know. I have one plug: watch for “Nobody in Particular”, a crime-drama I helped out on, being re-edited – should be out sometime this year.
Thoughts?  Comments?

Comments on “Murder by Plastic”

Since “Murder by Plastic” was published by Every Day Fiction on March 24, I have been getting some interesting comments on it:  some critical, some laudatory.   For those of you who haven’t had a chance to visit the site yet, here they are:

9 Responses to “MURDER BY PLASTIC • by Phil Slattery”

  1. lizardyoga Says: March 24th, 2013 at 2:54 amChilling and brilliantly economical
  2. Binnnie Dot Says: March 24th, 2013 at 4:21 amVery well-paced and intriguing. Well done.
  3. Paul A. Freeman Says: March 24th, 2013 at 4:22 amWekk written, but one huge pothole. How could Joey be certain Don Antonio Vespucci would not take the duct tape off?
  4. Tina Wayland Says: March 24th, 2013 at 6:52 amI can’t help feeling like this one needed another rewrite. The story shines through so wonderfully in spots, but it feels hidden beneath some predictable plot twists and un-careful writing. The repeated words, like “heartbeat,” got caught in the writing instead of really reverberating.That said, I think the story itself takes us by the hand and runs. And what a ride!
  5. Amanda Says: March 24th, 2013 at 10:04 amI think Joey may have been involved in a similar scenario before with Don Antonio and was aware of how it would play out. And, like the Don says, who wants to listen to a bunch of denials?Well written and enjoyable, but I also agree that repeated words took me out of the story a couple of times. The first line was brilliant, but the second reference to duct tape diminished the line’s impact.

    Overall, a very enjoyable read.

  6. Paul A. Freeman Says: March 24th, 2013 at 10:26 amBelieve it or not, I was perfectly sober when I posted #3.‘Wekk’; ‘potholes’? Maybe I should have loosened up with a drink or two before posting.
  7. JenM Says: March 24th, 2013 at 10:51 amFabulous story! Five stars!
  8. Michael Robertson Says: March 24th, 2013 at 12:48 pmI liked this. It was a good story. I agree with the rewrite comments. Overall an enjoyable read. Well, horrible read but that’s the point.
  9. john malone Says: March 27th, 2013 at 8:39 pma terrific read; i loved it. I was tensed up just like ‘Mr. Wilson’ throughout the story

Today, My Story “Murder by Plastic” Was Published.

My work of flash fiction, “Murder by Plastic”, was published today at www.everydayfiction.com.  Please read the story at your leisure and peruse the other literary works available at Every Day Fiction as well.  My heartfelt thanks go out to the very patient, professional staff at Every Day Fiction, who brought this story to you.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Jorge Oscar Rossi’s “Archetypal Horror: H.P. Lovecraft and Carl Gustav Jung”

Cthulhu

I ran across an interesting article today at http://www.quintadimension.com/article66.html, entitled “Archetypal Horror:  H.P. Lovecraft and Carl Gustav Jung”.  It was written by Jorge Oscar Rossi, an Argentinian writer of science fiction (and fantastic literature in general), and published on December, 8, 2000.  Please note that the article and his autobiography are in Spanish.

I am no master of Spanish, having had only two years in college and some practical, albeit frequent, experience in Texas and Mexico over the last twenty years.   However, Señor Rossi’s article is well-written and relatively easy reading, so that I feel I caught the gist of it, if not all the nuances.

His main point (and anyone with a better knowledge of Spanish than I, including Señor Rossi, may correct me if I am wrong) is that Lovecraft’s ancient gods of the Cthulhu mythos represent archetypal forms of horror in the Jungian sense of “archetype”.

If you have a basic comprehension of Spanish, the article is quite intriguing and worth taking a shot at reading.

If nothing esle, the article will help you view the poster above from another perspective: what is the meaning of the poster if the creature above symbolizes archetypal fears shared by everyone?

Thoughts?  Comments?