People are often surprised when they meet me to find that I am a writer of horror fiction and a devout Christian. Many believe the two things are mutually exclusive. Usually, if they don’t outright condemn my choice of entertainment, they immediately try to downplay it. I am met with comments like, “Oh, you mean like science fiction-fantasy, type stuff?” or even worse, “You must love the Twilight books.” Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against science fiction or fantasy or even glittering vampires (I read the entire series though I’ll save that review for another day), but those are not the fiction I am talking about. More than that, though, I don’t like the implication that I (a Christian and an otherwise loveable person) enjoy the “soft stuff,” that glossy, whitewashed version of scary. The truth is I enjoy horror in all its forms but most when it is at its bloodiest. I like to see body parts flying and guts being spilled. I would even say I crave it (for anyone who hasn’t read it, Stephen King’s essay “Why We Crave Horror Movies” gives a wonderful look into the psychology of why people like me love to watch the gory and brutal movies that comprise the genre of “horror”).
Does that make me less of a Christian?
The truth is much of what we enjoy in the horror genre owes a lot to the Christian theology and worldview. Take the latest vampire craze, for instance. The vampire (and his close cousin, the werewolf) has always been a perversion of the Christian. In Christianity, eternal life is promised, a point celebrated by the Holy Communion, which is the eating of the body and the drinking of the blood of Christ. And let’s not forget the basis of Christianity: someone who defeated death by rising from the grave. Sound familiar? The newest vampires (those of the friendly, vegetarian variety) even demonstrate the classic struggle of sin. Our nature tells us to do one thing when we desperately want the opposite (the apostle Paul told of the same struggle between flesh and spirit in his letter to the Romans). But, you say, of course, vampires are inspired by Christianity; they are repelled by Holy Water and the crucifix.
I give you then another staple of the horror movie: the zombie. Like the vampire, the zombie builds upon the Christian concept of everlasting life and defeat of the grave. Look at the baptism ceremony. Believers are “buried” in water only to be raised a new creature. The fear of these creatures is not in their ability to live beyond death, though it does give them a rather gruesome, decayed appearance, but in their lack of conscience. They live only to feed on flesh (hmmm, that sounds familiar) without any regard for, well, anything else. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead is a perfect example. Mindless zombies in a shopping mall, consuming everything without regard—wait, that sounds like everyday in my town. Seriously, though, the zombie, like the vampire and the werewolf, becomes “evil” when he/she/it gives into the carnal desires. It is the point of Christianity, like most religions, to strive toward the divine and relinquish the bodily temptations. Yes, I know zombies, like vampires and werewolves, have other (and maybe even more prominent) cultural and historical precedents, but I am just exemplifying one thread among many that goes into the horror genre.
Perhaps the most compelling argument for a Christian theology at work is in the demon possession subgenre. The Exorcist is for many, myself included, the most terrifying movie ever made. I confess, I have never thought about why I find it so terrifying. I know it is only split pea soup, but I am still wetting my pants whenever I watch that film. It is not until I saw The Last Exorcism (an excellent film, by the way) that it really struck home for me. Possession is truly terrifying because I believe it can really happen. As a Christian, I have to acknowledge a spiritual realm beyond this one, and as much as I want to believe in only the pretty angels, I know there is something much more sinister too. More than that, I actively invite, as most Christians do, the Holy Spirit to fill my body. The Bible itself speaks of such acts, calling the followers of Christ to reduce themselves and let Jesus into their hearts (John 3:30 says “He must become greater, I must become less,” speaking of the Christian’s quest to reduce selfish inclinations and allow Christ to control his or her life). The fear that something might control my body is a frightening thing. I don’t like the idea, and I suspect that others most likely feel the same way. And to invite something like that? Not something that people willingly do. And yet, as I Christian, I do it daily.
The filmmakers of The Last Exorcism seem to acknowledge this delicate balance. The protagonist Cotton Marcus (a wonderful name, by the way…a reference to Cotton Mather, I wonder?) is an evangelical preacher who is trying to overcome his own crisis of faith when he comes across a supposed case of demon possession (I won’t go into further plot details…if you haven’t seen the movie, just trust me and go watch it; it is well worth it). Cotton is at times troubled and repulsed by the notion of spirit possession, perhaps because he believes there is no spiritual world, good or bad, beyond our own physical realm. The film is just as much about his own reconciliation with his faith as it is about things that go bump in the night.
And this, for me, is what is at the heart of all horror: the battle of good versus evil. Like the serial killer on screen or on the page who we all secretly, I suspect, wish will win just this once, we all can recognize a bit of that evil within us, just as we can see the good in us as well. That battle, as old as God and the Devil, is at war with each one of us. We find the zombie, the werewolf, the vampire, the possessed girl so repulsive because we see just how close we are to that monster. If we only let our desires run rampant without regard for anyone or anything else, how long would it take for us to look like one of those monsters that haunt our nightmares?
No comments:
Post a Comment