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176 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2021
In these works, the thread is radically Other, emanating from the outside, from different categories of being or philosophies of existence. But running alongside this is a tradition of internal horror, in which that which we have to fear is inside us.
Bodies, I have suggested, can be viewed as symbolic systems, sites of meaning, power, threat, and anxiety. Viewed in this way, our skin functions as a boundary, as we have seen - a vulnerable, malleable, porous, leaky border between inside and outside, self and other, a site of abjection and of pain.
The greater part of the Western literary tradition follows, or celebrates, a faith whose own sacrificial rites have at their heart symbolic representations of torture and cannibalism, the cross and the host. A case could plausibly be made that the Western literary tradition is a tradition of horror. This may be an overstatement, but it's an argument with which any honest thinker has to engage.
- Darryl Jones, Sleeping With the Lights On [Republished as Horror: A Very Short Introduction]
Many of the films that fell afoul of the 'video nasties' scandal of the 1980s were certainly disreputable or sleazy (Cannibal Holocaust, I Spit On Your Grave), but they were generally low-budget affairs, often characterized by a manic energy and a certain DIY integrity. Part of the mystique of these films was the challenge of getting to see them in the first place - they rarely had theatrical runs, and could be difficult to find in video libraries. These were films which had no desire to be mainstream. One of the most disturbing things about modern torture porn is its corporatization. The Hostel and Saw franchises were mass-distribution multiplex releases. As a Japanese client says of the torture company in Eli Roth's Hostel(2005), 'Be careful. You could spend all your money in there.'
It is difficult to know whether this is critique or celebration.
Both Freud and Rank suggest that the figure of the double was originally a religious one, expressive of the sense of the duality of body and soul. If our double is originally the embodiment of our soul, then it follows that an encounter with the double should portend death, that moment when body and soul are finally divided. Paradoxically, then, the double, originally an embodiment of our immortality, is also a reminder of the mortality of our own bodies. An encounter with the double is a rupture in time and space, a moment when the world of matter and the world of spirit, this life and the aftermath meet.
The Prometheus myth, then, simultaneously warns of the dangers of forbidden knowledge (the stolen fire) and insists that knowledge, creativity, and human civilization itself are all transgressive acts. In the quest for knowledge, the Promethean disregards social norms, which are the constraints (the chains) punitively enforced (the eagle).