I always seem to struggle with finding a specific issue to write about in these blogs. For last month I debated about discussing the historical stigma that surrounds mental illness and how it's still a modern issue...which was made VERY evident in the last Socratic seminar...but I find the topic too dreary to discuss right now.
Instead I will touch upon one of my favorite sub-genres of literature that I noticed in one of our readings but did not go into too much detail about in class.
The Yellow Wallpaper is one of my favorite short stories to date, I think, and historical context and importance aside it's just a great story and an amazing example of psychological horror.
Surprisingly (or not surprisingly?) horror and psychological horror are probably my favorite genres when it comes to comics, movies, and literature...I mean I still love comedies and heart felt films and cheery cartoons as much as the next person but a good spooky and thought provoking horror is truly the bee's knees. It is worth noting, however, that psychological horror and traditional horror are two different things. One elicits images of spooky ghosts and monsters and literal sources of fear...typically physical manefeostatations and problems revolving around "oh wow I will literally die and lose my life in this very scary situation because I am being chased by an evil goblin man with an eye patch and chainsaws for hands". Psychological horror, on the other hand, is more subtle, sometimes uncertain (think Shudder Island or something like that...lots of uncertainty and probably a massive plot twist by the end of it. The Yellow Wallpaper fills this one to a T) but the journey is often subtly spooky (relies more on atmosphere, tone, and creepy elements as opposed to "jump scares", gore, bloodshed, terror, etc.) and the end result leaves the observer to question things...themselves, the media they just read/watched, the universe, etc....but the end result should make sense based on hints and symbolism throughout the piece.
Psychological horror, I think, requires a bit more finesse and cleverness than traditional horror, and that and the complexity that often goes with it are what draws me to the genre. Now, going back to the Yellow Wallpaper, I feel that as a short story it fits this genre perfectly. It is thoroughly creepy and off-putting, growing more distressed and broken as the poor protagonists descends into madness but leaves off with most of the hints and loose ends being tied up and everything making sense while still leaving the reader thoroughly spooked, and most importantly, it leaves the reader with a sense of questioning ambiguous or seemingly insignificant portions of the literature (who is the woman in the wallpaper? was it the protagonist from the start or did she BECOME the woman later on...?) which is the tell tale sign of good psychological horror. It should leave the observer to question, think, and truly wonder about their own existence or some other important idea.
And here is where the genre holds its true power.
What I mean is that psychological horror, done right, is a powerful tool and a very important one. Besides being an interesting and spooky vessel for some very good stories, this genre is special in that it taps into our most primitive fears while also bringing up important issues in society or humanity. The Yellow Wallpaper, for example, discusses the horrible affects of sexist and primitive medical procedures upon women which turned normal, healthy people into broken shells of their former selves. If the author attempted to discuss such a topic in any other format, I do not believe it would have been nearly as affective as the gradual descent into chaos and madness that the Yellow Wallpaper produced, nor would it have captured the same sense of dark atmosphere and disgusting, creepy tone. The author's approach to her story and the genre also reminds me very eerily of a couple of my favorite modern artists/authors: Emily Carroll and Abby Howard.
Both of these women are very good artists with a knack for horror-based comics. While Abby Howard also dabbles in comedy, she has a particularly good sense of dark humor and horror in both senses of the genre (traditional and psychological) and currently manages two very good webcomics: The Last Halloween and Junior Scientist Power Hour. This year she also started a side website called Terror Town which currently has two very spooky stories illustrate by her but written by others. One of my favorite comics by her is a collaboration on Terror Town called "The Portrait of Sal Portman", a horrifying and very thought-provoking story that is reminiscent of The Portrait of Dorian Gray...it follows an artist's plight when he creates what everyone else thinks is the best painting ever made when all he sees is a horrifying monster THAT IS ACTUALLY REAL (GASP!!) and takes over his life. It's very very well written and illustrated and is a perfect example of the genre...it uses a spooky story to hint at the inner demons of humanity and the individual, as well as commentate on how we see ourselves and each other.
Emily Carroll is more experienced when it comes to shorter comics and periodically posts various degrees of horror comics on her website, emcarroll.com, with works like His Hands All Red and Out of Skin. She has also published one book titled Through the Woods which has some stories not on her website that are also very well done. The best example for this blog, though, would be her most recent short comic titled Some Other Animals Meat. This little comic is not the most horrifying one I've read, but it's very notable as it takes full advantage of it's creepy tones (and some body horror, be warned, it does get a bit gross) to discuss issues with cosmetics and body image in women. It's worth a read, and Carroll does a fantastic job of making it a very thought provoking and memorable comic.
One of the best qualities of good psychological horror, I feel, is if it sticks in your mind and makes you wonder and ponder and think about it for a while...like a nagging insect...but in some way, that is a good thing. All of these authors and artists, then and now, use horror as a vessel for their stances on issues regarding societal problems or human nature or what have you, and that is a very good thing.
(and here are some links if you want to read the comics I mentioned...just the short ones though, but if you only read one or two DEFINITELY read The Portrait of Sal Portman and Some Other Animals Meat, they're some of the best ones I think.
Abby Howard's Terror Town: http://www.terror-town.com
Emily Carroll's website: http://www.emcarroll.com )
Sunday, March 13, 2016
(late) January monthly blog
The more I read and the more we have socratic seminars the more I notice the issue of compassion that humanity feels to other human beings.
If I remember correctly, back in January we were in the process of reading A Thousand Splendid Suns. I thoroughly enjoyed this book but made the poor decision of not doing the monthly blog when I should have, so my memory of it is a bit foggy. I do recall, however, that the author of the novel accomplished the very impressive feat of having absolutely terrible things happen to nearly every character in the novel without it becoming tedious, and included a few notable pleasantries that would have been nothing short of cliche and dry in any other novel.
Thinking back, it is interesting to think that that is an issue at all. Having so many horrible things happen that one grows bored and uncaring of the unreal human lives portrayed before them, and to feel something akin to guilt when admitting extreme happiness for Tariq not being dead at all or the reveal that Jahlil is not the massive total tool he was described as being in the first half of the novel. To elaborate, genuinely sit back and consider how terrible it is that human beings, when observing the happenings of characters on a movie screen of behind the pages of a book, can grow bored and indifferent to the characters' misfortunes because too many bad things have happened to them. It's tricky to think of a specific example, but I find that a good generalized cliche of this would be something like the damsel in distress trope. Oh wow...beautiful character with zero redeeming qualities is in danger, and just so happens go be the love interest of the protagonist...I guess they're going to go and save them or something and oh no whoops someone died along the way or something, wow what a surprise. Such sacrifice, such bravery and terrible happenings.
Even though one would probably feel sympathy and sadness and despair over such an event...as a probably innocent character is placed in danger which is obviously very bad...the reader or observer is left in tears not from sadness, but sheer boredom. While I agree with this specific scenario in most cases...it is interesting to think about how weird it is that people can become so easily uninterested when horrible things happen without actual significance/consequence, or when they happen too often.
So by that reasoning, a book like A Thousand Splendid Suns should be a real snooze-fest as it's riddled with every terrible act or event imaginable. War, violence, verbal/physical/sexual abuse, miscarriage(s), terrorism, murder, poverty, the loss of nearly every loved one the protagonists hold dear...any horrible thing imaginable can probably be found in those pages. Yet very few, if any, people in our class found this novel boring or awful or unbearable or anything of the sort. We still hesitate to admit admiration for certain cliche happy events, as said, but in such a sad novel any shred of hope is cherished.
So saying, it's interesting and almost unexplainable as to why this one novel breaks the mold and the human nature of lacking compassion for characters when too many bad things happen to them. I wouldn't call it a major flaw in human design, of course, but what I mean by all of this is it's sad that people lose compassion when they grow tolerant and over exposed to cruelty and terribleness...but it is interesting to notice the exceptions to that phenomenon, as in A Thousand Splendid Suns.
If I remember correctly, back in January we were in the process of reading A Thousand Splendid Suns. I thoroughly enjoyed this book but made the poor decision of not doing the monthly blog when I should have, so my memory of it is a bit foggy. I do recall, however, that the author of the novel accomplished the very impressive feat of having absolutely terrible things happen to nearly every character in the novel without it becoming tedious, and included a few notable pleasantries that would have been nothing short of cliche and dry in any other novel.
Thinking back, it is interesting to think that that is an issue at all. Having so many horrible things happen that one grows bored and uncaring of the unreal human lives portrayed before them, and to feel something akin to guilt when admitting extreme happiness for Tariq not being dead at all or the reveal that Jahlil is not the massive total tool he was described as being in the first half of the novel. To elaborate, genuinely sit back and consider how terrible it is that human beings, when observing the happenings of characters on a movie screen of behind the pages of a book, can grow bored and indifferent to the characters' misfortunes because too many bad things have happened to them. It's tricky to think of a specific example, but I find that a good generalized cliche of this would be something like the damsel in distress trope. Oh wow...beautiful character with zero redeeming qualities is in danger, and just so happens go be the love interest of the protagonist...I guess they're going to go and save them or something and oh no whoops someone died along the way or something, wow what a surprise. Such sacrifice, such bravery and terrible happenings.
Even though one would probably feel sympathy and sadness and despair over such an event...as a probably innocent character is placed in danger which is obviously very bad...the reader or observer is left in tears not from sadness, but sheer boredom. While I agree with this specific scenario in most cases...it is interesting to think about how weird it is that people can become so easily uninterested when horrible things happen without actual significance/consequence, or when they happen too often.
So by that reasoning, a book like A Thousand Splendid Suns should be a real snooze-fest as it's riddled with every terrible act or event imaginable. War, violence, verbal/physical/sexual abuse, miscarriage(s), terrorism, murder, poverty, the loss of nearly every loved one the protagonists hold dear...any horrible thing imaginable can probably be found in those pages. Yet very few, if any, people in our class found this novel boring or awful or unbearable or anything of the sort. We still hesitate to admit admiration for certain cliche happy events, as said, but in such a sad novel any shred of hope is cherished.
So saying, it's interesting and almost unexplainable as to why this one novel breaks the mold and the human nature of lacking compassion for characters when too many bad things happen to them. I wouldn't call it a major flaw in human design, of course, but what I mean by all of this is it's sad that people lose compassion when they grow tolerant and over exposed to cruelty and terribleness...but it is interesting to notice the exceptions to that phenomenon, as in A Thousand Splendid Suns.
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