Pardon Me, but Have You Seen My Eyeball?

Tactful Juxtaposition in Horror

When you think about what scares you most in a horror story, what is the quickest to come to mind?  Chances are, your mind’s eye will impose images of what should, under any normal circumstances, be the most unlikely of suspects.  Children giggling, clowns smiling, dignified noblemen, perfectly sculpted topiary …the list goes on when it comes to imagery that, with just the right touch, goes from innocent or distinguished to downright terrifying.  Place the giggling children in an otherwise empty haunted house; put a bit of blood on the clown’s suit; give the nobleman fangs; see the topiary move behind the protagonist’s back.  It’s the dissonance between expectation and realization that creates the best kind of horror.

This holds true just as much with use of language as it does with use of imagery, which is why Gothic horror is (in my humble opinion) especially thrilling.  While the necessary components—stormy/foggy weather, a castle or castle-like structure, a supernatural element, a maze (either literal or metaphorical) and a protagonist being pursued by some kind of monster—are dark and atmospheric in and of themselves, it is the language that seals the deal.  The mesh of high literary form and supernatural evil works against a person’s sensibilities in the same way the giggle of a child possessed by pure evil might; it works much like dramatic irony, so effective because of the incongruence of elements.

Consider any of a number of passages written by the master of Gothic horror, Edgar Allan Poe.  For an example, I’ve pulled a random stanza from his timeless classic, “The Raven”:

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Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
‘Wretch,’ I cried, ‘thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore.’

Look carefully at the language here.  It is simple yet elegant, while uncommon and still fluid.  Poe uses “Seraphim” and “angels” to raise (ironic) demonic imagery.  He uses “nepenthe,” legendary and illusory, instead of using “forget” alone.  Consider his use of alliteration: “swung” and “Seraphim”; “foot-falls” and “tufted floor”; “hath lent thee” and “has sent thee”; “nepenthe and thy”; “quaff” and “quoth.”  These careful choices add an elegance to Poe’s words that make them all the more chilling.

I once conversed with another horror writer who insisted Gothic horror was, in his own language, “pretentious.”  That word has stuck with me ever since.  Pretentious.  I must beg to differ.  Gothic horror is sophisticated.  It is complex.  It contains a level of brilliance that might not be appreciable to fans of superficial horror—slash and dash, blood and guts, and such—and that’s okay.  Literary is not everyone’s cup of oleander tea.  With that said, I’ll take Gothic over gore any day.

It’s just scarier—in my humble opinion.

This blog post is part of Coffin Hop’s countdown to Halloween.  There are tons of prizes up for grabs, so make sure to check out the many other participating authors’ blogs by going to www.coffinhop.com.


Also be sure to take a look at Coffin Hop’s benefit anthology, Death by Drive-In, the proceeds of which will go to the literacy program, Lit World.

What is your favorite kind or horror?  Leave a comment for your chance to win a signed paperback copy of my Poe-inspired Gothic horror, Finding Poe, or an electronic copy of Death by Drive-In.  Winners will be announced precisely at the stroke of the witching hour on Halloween ... unless the evil clown gets me.  *insert evil laugh*