Horror Literature through History
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John Edgar Browning
See also: Gender, Sexuality, and the Monsters of Literary Horror; The Gothic Literary Tradition; Horror Literature as Social Criticism and Commentary; Part Three, Reference Entries: Monsters; Vampires.
Further Reading
Benshoff, Harry M. 1997. Monsters in the Closet: Homosexuality and the Horror Film. Manchester: Manchester University Press.
Browning, John Edgar. 2012. “Towards a Monster Pedagogy: (Re)claiming the Classroom for the Other.” In Fear and Learning: Essays on the Pedagogy of Horror, edited by Sean Moreland and Aalya Ahmad, 40–55. Jefferson, NC: McFarland.
Carroll, Noël. 1990. The Philosophy of Horror: Or, Paradoxes of the Heart. New York: Routledge.
Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, ed. 1996. Monster Theory: Reading Culture. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Dyer, Richard. 1998. “Children of the Night: Vampirism as Homosexuality, Homosexuality as Vampirism.” In Sweet Dreams: Sexuality, Gender, and Popular Fiction, edited by Susannah Radstone, 47–72. London: Lawrence & Wishart.
“Editorial.” 2010. Horror Studies 1, no. 1: 3.
Gelder, Ken, ed. 2000. The Horror Reader. New York: Routledge.
Gordon, Peter E. 2014. “What Is Intellectual History? A Frankly Partisan Introduction to a Frequently Misunderstood Field.” Paper presented at the Future of the History of Ideas Workshop, University of Sydney, Australia August 12.
Lowenstein, Adam. 2016. “A Reintroduction to the American Horror Film.” In American Film History: Selected Readings, Vol. II: 1960 to the Present, edited by Cynthia Lucia, Roy Grundmann, and Art Simon, 259–274. Malden, MA Wiley-Blackwell.
Nelson, Victoria. 2013 Gothicka: Vampire Heroes, Human Gods, and the New Supernatural. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Skal, David. J. 1993. The Monster Show: A Cultural History of Horror. New York: Penguin Books.
HORROR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE FICTION
Horror and science fiction have far more in common than purists of either genre may initially realize. It has been argued that science fiction works from the premise that the universe is inherently knowable. If that is so, then horror is one of the many possible responses to what that knowledge reveals, and the most powerful. Conversely, horror and its associated emotion, dread, blossom when the rationalist perspective often prioritized in science fiction is found wanting, or when that rationalism leads to a place where it undoes itself. In this sense, horror and science fiction are complementary, if differing, means of knowing the world.
Horror and science fiction are distinguished first and foremost by the marketing strategies of publishers. This was not always the case. Throughout the nineteenth century and into the early twentieth, nonrealist literature appeared in numerous magazines and serials, often with no established generic distinctions. It was not until 1926, when Hugo Gernsback published Amazing Stories, that a specific market space was created for science fiction. Gernsback established in the pages of his pulp magazine a back history for his preferred story type (then referred to as “scientifiction”) that excluded supernatural-flavored fiction in favor of the scientific romances of H. G. Wells and the engineering speculations of Jules Verne. This historical moment of divergence is a result of a business model based on marketing factors and editorial concerns, including pedagogical concerns, since Gernsback wanted to prepare young men for a technologically rich future that included space travel.
Amazing Stories, however, was not so much a point of genre demarcation as it was a moment of thematic sublimation. Put another way, horror moved forward as a literature preoccupied with the supernatural and otherworldly in publications not devoted exclusively to science fiction even as it continued to play a fundamental role in what was otherwise marketed as science fiction. An example of this sublimation is Edmond Hamilton’s “The Man Who Evolved” (1931), first published in another of Gernsback’s pulps, Wonder Stories. The story follows a scientist who propels himself through various stages of human evolution, with each development ever more horrifying to the two colleagues who watch his progression. The end result of this forced evolution is a return to the primordial protoplasm from which life on Earth sprang. This knowledge drives one of the observers mad while the other is just barely able to escape with his life and sanity. “The Man Who Evolved” is an early example of how the trappings of scientific rhetoric and reasoning work in science fiction, yet its narrative devices are firmly grounded in the supernatural or ghost story of the preceding century. Similarly, C. L. Moore’s “Shambleau,” first published in Weird Tales in 1933, is grounded in the tone and imagery of the horror tale and can be read as a precursor to the body horror that emerged in literature and film in the second half of the twentieth century. The titular Shambleau, a vampiric Medusa-like alien creature that devours the soul of any man unlucky enough to fall in love with it, is a throwback to the supernatural creatures of older literary traditions even as it reconfigures them in a science fictional landscape, in this case Mars.
The stories by Hamilton and Moore are foundational texts in science fiction and demonstrate how horror elements were deeply ingrained in science fiction’s generic origin point. This should perhaps come as no surprise given that science fiction, it has been argued, first by Brian Aldiss and subsequently by many others, has its thematic origin in the Gothic, specifically Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818; revised 1831). Scholars will undoubtedly continue to deliberate the beginning point of science fiction—either 1818, 1926, or hundreds, if not thousands, of years earlier—but what is important to note is that horror is at once the genre’s precursor and its simultaneous offshoot. This position is not contradictory, but rather indicative of how the genres inform and influence each other.
Situated between Frankenstein and Amazing Stories is Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows” (1907). It is hard to overestimate the influence and importance of this story of two men who are terrorized by an unseen force. The language and tone is that of supernatural horror, but the underlying science fictional conceit is that of an agency, which is antithetical to the well-being of the human species, that originates from an unknown yet material dimension. It is Blackwood who introduces the idea of these Other spaces as organic properties of the knowable universe and not as visitations from its opposite, the nonmaterial or spiritual realm. This notion of a hostile universe is not new, but it is science fictionalized by Blackwood and later amplified to great degree and effect by H. P. Lovecraft in stories published from 1921 to 1937, which later came to be associated with the Cthulhu Mythos cycle and which in turn created the cosmic dread subcategory of horror and science fiction that remains popular to this day. That Lovecraft is so often thought of as a writer of horror gives some insight into the power of tone, language, and style. Lovecraft is a horror writer, but he is every bit a science fiction writer, too, with his rich treasury of extraterrestrial and pan-dimensional beings and his mutated, hybrid country folk.
A Selective Timeline of Horror and Science Fiction
1818
Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley
1886
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
1896
The Island of Dr. Moreau by H. G. Wells
1897
The Invisible Man by H. G. Wells
1901
The Purple Cloud by M. P. Shiel
1907
“The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood
1912
The Night Land by William Hope Hodgson
1927
“The Colour out of Space” by H. P. Lovecraft
1928
“The Call of Cthulhu” by H. P. Lovecraft
1929
“The Hounds of Tindalos” by Frank Belknap Long
1931
“The Man Who Evolved” by Edmond Hamilton
1933
“Shambleau” by C. L. Moore
1936
At the Mountains of Madness and “The
Shadow out of Time” by H. P. Lovecraft
1944
“Killdozer” by Theodore Sturgeon
1951
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
1954
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson
1957
The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham
1967
“I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream” by Harlan Ellison; The Mind Parasites by Colin Wilson
1972
The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin
1979
Sandkings by George R. R. Martin
1980
“The Autopsy” by Michael Shea
1981
The Vampire Tapestry by Suzy McKee Charnas
1984
“Bloodchild” by Octavia E. Butler
1987
The Tommyknockers by Stephen King
2000
Perdido Street Station by China Miéville; Punktown by Jeffrey Thomas
2001
City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff VanderMeer
2002
The Scar by China Miéville
2003
Veniss Underground by Jeff VanderMeer
2004
Iron Council by China Miéville
2005
Fledgling by Octavia E. Butler
2007
Deadstock by Jeffrey Thomas
2008
Blue Wars by Jeffrey Thomas
2009
Under the Dome by Stephen King
2011
11/22/63 by Stephen King
2014
The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer
A rich cadre of genre writers emerged in the mid-twentieth century who proved themselves adept at writing horror, science fiction, fantasy, or some hybrid of all three. Charles Beaumont, Ray Bradbury, Fredrick Brown, John W. Campbell, Fritz Leiber, Henry Kuttner, Richard Matheson, Frank M. Robinson, Theodore Sturgeon, Manly Wade Wellman, and John Wyndham all moved rather effortlessly between at least two if not all three modes. Writers who have since followed include Clive Barker, Laird Barron, Harlan Ellison, Dennis Etchison, Kelly Link, George R. R. Martin, and Lucius Shepard. But this small sampling of mid- and late-century writers is hardly indicative of the degree to which horror and science fiction overlap. Any attempt to produce an exhaustive list would be impossible and fruitless, and would indicate how on some level the distinction between horror and science fiction is largely one of rhetorical stratagems, narrative devices, and marketing. The work of Ira Levin, author of Rosemary’s Baby (1967), serves as a good example. His The Stepford Wives (1972) develops its science fictional theme, robots, into a novel of escalating horror, while The Boys from Brazil (1976) works its science fictional premise, cloning, into a mainstream thriller narrative with political overtones. More central to the horror tradition is Stephen King, whose Carrie (1974) is grounded in its titular protagonist’s (pseudo) scientific telekinetic ability, a theme revisited in Firestarter (1980). Of his many novels, The Stand (1978, revised 1990), which depicts human civilization decimated by an engineered plague; The Tommyknockers (1987), which depicts how an alien spaceship creates a hive mind out of a local population; Under the Dome (2009), which shows alien children trapping a small town within a dome; and 11/22/63 (2011), a time travel story that revolves around the Kennedy assassination, are his most overtly science fictional in their premise, but there are other examples in both his long and short fiction.
Another way of thinking about horror and science fiction is to consider how writers such as Levin and King use genre in the service of ideas, stylistic decisions, or social trends. Such an approach uses the science fictional premise as a springboard toward some other form of narrative play. Other writers, however, seem more invested in core horror and science fiction aesthetics for their own sakes. Contemporary examples include China Miéville, Jeff VanderMeer, and Jeffrey Thomas. Miéville is certainly the most political of the three, as expressed in his New Crobuzon sequence of novels Perdido Street Station (2000), The Scar (2002), and Iron Council (2004). VanderMeer is the most stylistically conscious, as exhibited by City of Saints and Madmen (2001), Veniss Underground (2003), and the Southern Reach Trilogy (2014). And Thomas is the most—in a good way—pulpish, as conveyed in the thematic collection Punktown (2000, expanded 2003) and the novels Deadstock (2007) and Blue War (2008). These three writers, radically different and singular, nevertheless share one encompassing trait: a disdain for generic divisions that is exceeded only by their commitment to and embrace of the generic treasury of images, themes, styles, and tropes that together define what is thought of most broadly as nonrealist literature. Whatever anxiety may arise from violating generic distinction is totally absent from this group of writers and others like them, and is instead replaced by a sense of freedom and play. Ironically, it may be this complete obliteration of generic distinction that ultimately characterizes horror and science fiction in its purest mode.
Javier A. Martinez
See also: Apocalyptic Horror; The Gothic Literary Tradition; The Legacy of Frankenstein: From Gothic Novel to Cultural Myth; Weird and Cosmic Horror Fiction; Part Three, Reference Entries: At the Mountains of Madness; Ballard, J. G.; Barker, Clive; Barron, Laird; Beaumont, Charles; Blackwood, Algernon; Bradbury, Ray; Butler, Octavia E.; “The Call of Cthulhu”; “The Colour out of Space”; Communion; Cthulhu Mythos; Datlow, Ellen; Derleth, August; Dick, Philip K.; Ellison, Harlan; Etchison, Dennis; Forbidden Knowledge or Power; Hand, Elizabeth; I Am Legend; “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream”; The Invisible Man; The Island of Dr. Moreau; King, Stephen; Kneale, Nigel; Kuttner, Henry; Leiber, Fritz; Link, Kelly; Long, Frank Belknap; Lovecraft, H. P.; Lumley, Brian; Mad Scientist; Matheson, Richard; Miéville, China; The Mind Parasites; Morrow, W. C.; New Weird; Newman, Kim; The Night Land; Pulp Horror; Sandkings; Shea, Michael; Shiel, M. P.; Simmons, Dan; The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; Sturgeon, Theodore; VanderMeer, Jeff; Weird Tales; Wellman, Manly Wade; Wells, H. G.; “The Willows”; Wyndham, John; Zombies.
Further Reading
Aldiss, Brian, and David Wingrove. 1986. Trillion Year Spree: The History of Science Fiction. London: Gollancz.
Colavito, Jason. 2008. Knowing Fear: Science, Knowledge, and the Development of the Horror Genre. Jefferson, NC: McFarland.
Freedman, Carl. 2002. “Hail Mary: On the Author of Frankenstein and the Origins of Science Fiction.” Science Fiction Studies 29: 253–264.
Lawler, Donald. 1988. “Reframing Jekyll and Hyde: Robert Louis Stevenson and the Strange Case of Gothic Science Fiction.” In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde after One Hundred Years, edited by William Veeder and Gordon Hirsch, 247–261. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Nelson, Victoria. 2012. Gothicka: Vampire Heroes, Human Gods, and the New Supernatural. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Oakes, David A. 2000. Science and Destabilization in the Modern American Gothic: Lovecraft, Matheson, and King. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.
Rauch, Alan. 1995. “The Monstrous Body of Knowledge in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.” Studies in Romanticism 34: 227–253.
Skal, David J. 1998. Screams of Reason: Mad Science and Modern Culture. New York: W. W. Norton.
Stableford, Brian. 2009. “Horror in Science Fiction.” In Gothic Grotesques: Essays on Fantastic Literature, 11–23. Rockville, MD: Wildside Press.
Tibbetts, John C. 2012. The Gothic Imagination: Conversations on Fantasy, Horror, and Science Fiction in the Media. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Wolfe, Gary K. 2011. “Evaporating Genres.” In Evaporating Genres: Essays on Fantastic Literature, 18–53. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. http://www.strangehorizons.com/2013/20130722/2wolfe-a.shtml.
HORROR LITERATURE AS SOCIAL CRITICISM
AND COMMENTARY
From primordial cosmogonic myths (myths about the origin of the cosmos) to early modern fairy tales, from the Christian theological purpose of seventeenth-century apparition narratives to the liberal wo
rking-class ethos of Stephen King’s fictions, narratives that use fear and horror to instill moral lessons and provide social commentary have an ancient provenance and a tremendous variety. A brief, partial survey of the history, prospects, and potential problems of such narratives, focusing particularly on those that have had a large role in shaping modern English language horror fiction, can provide valuable insight into the workings of horror fiction as a whole.
Among the oldest extant literary works, the Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh (approximately 2100 BCE) presents a mythic protagonist whose initial cruelty to his subjects leads the gods to seek his punishment, and whose later despair at the prospect of his own inevitable death serves both to make him more sympathetically human and to call into question the association between worldly power and divine immortality. The epic thereby both inscribes and interrogates cultural values and social norms, and its focus on the fear of death invests it with a resonance that is practically universal. Recognizing the potency of pathos, many ancient Greek poets and playwrights used horror to both stir audiences and interrogate their beliefs. Tragedies including Aeschylus’s The Oresteia (approximately 458 BCE), Euripides’s Hecuba (approximately 424 BCE) and The Bacchae (approximately 405 BCE), and Sophocles’s Oedipus the King (429 BCE) present powerful syntheses of physical violence, emotional extremity, and supernatural control over human affairs, using them to frame questions about Greek religion, culture, and social values in ways that make them key precursors to works of modern horror literature.