As the holidays rear their ugly head, I’ve been wrestling with the idea of posting. It seems everyone is a giant fan of doing the ‘End of Year Wrap-up’ post: tallying accomplishments, reflecting on the worth of their year. And while I think it’s always a good idea to take stock of yourself and your life for personal reasons, I feel slightly ick about doing it publicly, so I won’t.
Instead, I’ll talk about something I find endlessly more entertaining; our obsession with Monsters.
I have to admit this comes on the heels of thoroughly enjoying Guillermo del Toro’s rendition of Frankenstein (which I’ve already seen twice, and has achieved ‘comfort film’ status alongside Interview with the Vampire, Hannibal (the series), The Craft, Crimson Peak, The Witch, Heathers, Natural Born Killers, the list goes on…)
And, fair warning to stop reading here if you haven’t seen the film, as there are small spoilers ahead. You were warned.
I feel the need to call attention to one of the most underrated scenes in the film:
In an early scene, Victor’s father motions for the servant to bring him his wife’s plate. She’s left the gristle and juices from her dinner, and so, he deftly sops up the waste with a piece of bread and tells her to eat it. He watches until she does.
This moment unsettled me at my core more than gratuitous violence or gore ever could. In fact, I was smiling during the insanely jaunty creature assembly scene, as Victor enthusiastically works more diligently than any butcher to the rather twee backing track.
By contrast, the subtle nuance in the dinner scene established Victor’s father as something truly monstrous in one elegant, simple interaction.
This is the sort of character building that intrigues me. Then again, it’s a huge part of my own work.
But what really brings this to the forefront for me is—yes—I’ve started writing something new. Entirely new. I’m in full creative freedom mode, pantsing all the way—something I rarely allow myself. This story is terrible. The characters are worse. But it’s given me the freedom to explore a space that fascinates so many of us drawn to horror;
What makes a Monster?
I know this is nothing new if you’ve read my work, but I think this a theme I could return to endlessly, and still surprise myself. If The Last Dawn asks the reader; what if we empathize with the villain? Then my new story asks; can a Monster achieve redemption?
It also allows me to explore the terrors of casual cruelty in a way I haven’t truly touched before. I find the nuance fascinating. When apathy comes so naturally, that it hardly warrants a second thought. It becomes instinct. Is this more evil for its callousness? Or less because we can write it off as a thing’s nature?
I’m no philosopher, but this concept has haunted me for a while now, and I think I’ve finally found the right story, and the right characters to explore it. Though I do wonder if I’ll find readers brave enough to take the ride.
As always I can’t help but try to find a way, much like del Toro, to make the ugly beautiful in its own way. I’ve always admired this about certain art directors and cinematographers, even costume designers contribute significantly. Though I’ve always preferred novels to films, I very much respect the power of infusing story with aesthetic to reinforce emotional themes. I’ve heard the arguments that this style of filmmaking values ‘style over substance’ (every artist’s greatest fear!) and usually espoused by those who understand neither. I’ve always favored the romantics, the surrealists, and come out on the side that art is meant to elevate, to curate, to show beauty in all its forms.
I simply chose to do so, to the best of my ability, with prose. In the right light, the right context, blood can glisten as beautifully as any cut ruby. A scream can be as multifaceted as any soprano’s aria.
It’s all a matter of perspective, darlings.
That’s enough philosophy from me, I think. I’ll be crawling back into my crypt now to await the New Year and see what tidings it brings. Enjoy yourselves, have a cup of tea, and know that somewhere out there this humble author is stitching together her own beautiful monsters.
Decadently –SMH
CURRENTLY READING
The Black Carnival by Harlequin Grim
This was our book club’s pick, and I’m ecstatic to be reading it. Since my book club is comprised entirely of former and current circus artists, this one hits close to home. I can smell the rosin and tape.
Empire of the Dawn by Jay Kristoff
I admit I haven’t started reading this one yet, but it is sitting there on my parlor table waiting for me. I am saving it for the proper moment where I can enjoy it for maximum impact, I expect to be quite heartbroken by it.
Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle
This one has been haunting my bookshelf for a hot minute so I’m pleased to be finally getting into it. Chuck’s writing is so tight, and always a treat.
In the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft
I’ve been on a bit of a Lovecraft tear lately (see also: my entire post about monsters) and this one is next up on the list. Eldritch horror gives me the wonderful heebie jeebies and well, this re-read of his work doesn’t disappoint. So little scares me these days, but somehow the unknowable horror still gets me. Also – tentacles will never not be creepy as shit.
