Amusing Ourselves to Death: We are all zombies

As a fan of the AMC’s The Walking Dead, zombie is no longer a scary or innovative theme for me. However, Dead Set definitely gives a new meaning to the zombie theme, that TV viewers and producers are all zombies in this era of entertainment.

In the beginning, Dead Set first brings us to another reality TV show, the Big Brother. Although the Big Brother contestants will definitely be the major characters of this show, they are not the only “contestants”. We see the staff behind the making of the famous reality show before, not long, the zombie outbreak. At this moment, the production staff also becomes the contestants in a reality show named Dead Set, in which we the audience root for Kelly and boo at Patrick (or vice versa, or both) when they are cheating and swearing and later running and fighting for their lives. And more ironically, the show does not try to hide this sarcasm: when Kelly runs into the big brother house covered in blood, the others all think that she is a new contestant. 

In the era dominated by entertainment business, everyone involves in the culture are trapped and gradually become numb about society. When there is a riot in London, the only thing that the production team cares about is whether their show can on air; When people are dying and screaming outside, the Big Brother contestants only thinks that they are crazy for them and get drunk for celebrating their fame; And the supporters outside the studio, despite an obvious crisis in the country, care about a TV show over their society. The show presents this problem explicitly by Joplin’s first line: “What is TV anyway? It’s just a big fat arrow pointing away from the problem”. And the producer’s attitude to the riot also proves this view, as he says “why don’t they (protesters) just watch TV”. Yet, pathetically, though being aware of the problem about media, Joplin’s, who wants someone to hear his voice, only choice is to be on the TV so that he will get attention. It is so ironic that both the production team and the contestants believe that they control the show and the audiences until the audiences – the zombies that are produced by them and the entertainment industry – get back to them.

Just like many scenes shot from the glasses outside the big brother house and depict the contestants like being trapped and watched in a box, everyone – producers and receivers – are all trapped in the entertainment culture, not only television but all forms of social media. That is the reason why we see Kelly tries to escape the studio but eventually has to go back into it, where I believe they would never get out in the entire season and at the end die in. In the present day that we are surrounded by entertainment culture, we are also surrounded by zombies that are numb about every other thing, and may eventually turn into one of them. And this is exactly the horror we should be afraid of in the postmodern age.

Surrealism of Death through a Digital Medium

Dead Set presents reality shown through different mediums (reality tv show/news/reality of the tv room) by exemplifying postmodern horror with the zombies disrupting everyday life. There’s irony/self awareness in Dead Set from the fact that there is a reality tv show within a tv show, using different mediums to mock digital culture and the blurred lines of what is perceived to be “truth” and what is curated to look like the truth. The first appearance of the zombie in the show seemed almost ironic from a 2019 perspective because of the abundance of zombies in our digital culture (from The Walking Dead to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies – which is a clash of modern lit with postmodern horror) that in my perspective, the sudden appearance of zombies coupled with its self-awareness that the viewers are watching a tv show of a tv network producing a reality tv show made it quite unbelievable due to its overloaded with its digital mediums and elements of postmodern horror.
What I found the most fascinating was how rules are created and changed depending on the different simulations of reality the characters are in. In the tv network building, the horror of that space is the uncomfortable gaze of the male tv network producer and the significance of eviction night that ensues chaos from people. In the reality tv show, “getting a red card” is the worst case scenario, and being evicted is the horror. In the news, the horror is the uncertainty of the reason behind the riots and the fact that people are getting killed. All three of these simulations are then encompassed by the “true” reality of zombies roaming about and attacking people, and this truth literally clashes into the space of the tv network and the reality tv show, illustrating how different simulations create different realities. When Kelly bursts into the house where Big Brother happens, the people in the tv show clap thinking she is a new guest. Even the attack of the zombies is ridiculed and seen as a Big Brother challenge due to the fact that these people are trapped in the “reality” of this tv show and this is their world. There is a surrealistic element when death is presented through a digital medium as it distances people from recognizing the truth of circumstances or to be in touch with their reality, removing empathy and violating the boundaries of rationality and irrationality.
My favorite quote that stuck out to me from the first two episodes was when one of the characters, with disappointment that there are actual zombies and they’re not being filmed anymore, states,  “Does this mean we’re not on telly anymore?”
Dead Set downright mocks pop culture with that quote.

Dead Set Against The Walking Dead

Zombie cinema and television have become a staple of American media since their inception in the 1930s.  Popularized by Romero’s Night of the Living Dead in 1968, the genre has largely become a commentary about human nature itself, with the zombies acting as a sort of catalyst to instigate the human conflict.  Dead Set, a British mini-series, seems to follow this same structure throughout the first two episodes of the show.

The most celebrated and mainstream example of zombie television is The Walking Dead.  With its initial release in 2010, the show came 2 years after Dead Set.  Having once been an avid fan of TWD for the shows first few seasons, I now have not kept up with the show for ~5 years.  Part of the appeal early on, for me, was the constant struggle between human/zombie enemies.  The outbreak, much like in Dead Set, caused instantaneous widespread panic, as people fought for their survival.  The action and uncertainty of fighting an unknown enemy, much like what was seen at the beginning of both series, is the most satisfying aspect of the genre.  Balancing that against battling other humans for power, wealth, and resources requires every character on the show to remain honest and aware at all times, even when there are no ‘undead’ are around to attack.  Each week was a new struggle with both the human and zombie enemies, as things were still relatively new.

Around Season 5 of TWD, however, the zombies took a second-hand (they stopped being a major threat to the action of the show) to humans as the primary enemy.  While realistic, human enemies are not why audiences tune into watch the show.  As soon as TWD became so overt in its critique of humanity, it lost its appeal for me and many others that watched the show.  I may have jumped ship earlier than others because of several of my favorite characters being killed, but Miles Surry, in an article from this past season, discusses TWD‘s decision to stray further from being a show about zombies.  TWD is finally shifting the show’s themes, after the show stagnated between finding new settlements and fighting their corrupt leaders with the occasional zombie massacre for the past few years since I stopped watching. Now the show intends to examine the reconstruction of a zombie outbreak, as opposed to the fallout.  Perhaps a fault of making the series so long, and thus needing to extend the plotlines, ratings and viewership have both been trending down over the years.  With most of the criticism stemming from the writers introducing too many stale, unwanted, or unconvincing characters, it would seem that the show got too caught up in expanding the story and only spun the tires.  The legacy of the show remains to be seen, with the success of this ‘rebirth’ likely being the determining factor.

Zombies clearly seem to be a critique of mindless Western consumerism and the “pack mentality”, which are commonly cited as issues ‘plaguing’ these societies.  The half-dead, half-living appeal paired with the apparent lack of brain function and free-thought thus make zombies a perfect rendering of a tool scary yet recognizable enough to analyze certain aspects of our own human behavior.  Dead Set fits the mold of balancing conflict, with the reality show being an obvious criticism of mindless consumerism.  The fact that its a 5-episode mini-series leaves far less room to ‘go wrong’ since the show is not required to build massive plotlines.  While TWD might be a better drama-series, Dead Set seems to do a better job of nailing the zombie-genre down effectively.

**I also greatly appreciated how seamlessly Dead Set fit against A Head Full of Ghosts, with both including external anxieties, such as demons and zombies, contrasted against a reality television set.

Reality TV Must Die!

While watching the first couple episodes of “Dead Set” I was thinking about Jeffrey Cohen’s article, “Monster Culture” and the role that the zombies play on this show. First, I thought about what makes zombies inherently scary and, based on Cohen’s theses, I believe they fit into at least three categories. Zombies are a cultural body, they’re the harbinger of category crisis and they dwell at the gates of difference. They’re a cultural body because they represent people’s fear of invasion and disease. Maybe it’s a fear of foreign invasion or a fear of non-white people since the fighters and survivors in most of these films are usually all American or predominantly white. Examples of movies like this include “Zombieland” and “Shaun of the Dead.”

Zombies are harbingers of category crisis because they’re walking contradictions. Being the “living dead” defies the categories we know of and creates fear. This is what also causes them to dwell at the gates of difference because they’re dead cannibals, with deformed faces and little intelligence. They’re the opposite of a normal human being and just looking at them is terrifying enough and the fact that they’re sole purpose is to eat and kill humans doesn’t help.

What’s interesting about the zombies on “Dead Set” is that while their sole purpose is to eat and kill people, they’re focused on killing the people on the reality tv show “Big Brother.” The creators of this show purposely placed zombies on this set to disrupt this popular reality show in the most extreme way. This could mean a couple of things. One, the creators are trying to make a point about what reality tv is doing to humanity. Maybe they believe that reality tv or tv in general is turning us into zombies; single-minded and slow. Two, the creators are critiquing reality tv and believe that it needs to be destroyed and they’re using zombies as the tool to do that.

The Big Brother characters aren’t placed in the best light. They’re vain, insecure and obsessed with performing for the camera. The behind the scenes look at the show reveals how fake reality tv is. There’s heavy editing which manufactures drama for the audience and the contestants are being over the top so they can stand out and be popular. I believe the creators turn Cohen’s first thesis on its head. Usually humanity is the “hero” that kills the monster but I believe that on “Dead Set” reality tv is the real monster, the cultural body that needs to be destroyed, and the zombies are actually the “heroes” of the show who will kill the monster. To be honest I’m not mad at that idea. If reality tv died tomorrow, I wouldn’t really care, I think I’d actually be happy.

“Hustled, Scammed, Bamboozled” by Merry

Before Wednesday, I was unequipped to explain why I felt like Paul Tremblay had pulled one over on me in the conclusion of A Head Full of Ghosts. Isabel Pinedo’s Recreational Terror: Postmodern Elements of the Contemporary Horror Film offered a false sense of security. Knowledge that postmodern horror discomfits the reader/viewer/consumer by violating natural boundaries, withholding narrative closure and, more recently, unbinding the experience from the screen or page did not prepare me to discover the “truth” of what became of the Barrett family. All of the aforementioned traits of postmodern horror exist in A Head Full of Ghosts due to Paul Tremblay’s use of the Rashomon effect to cause readers to mistrust all information they are given.

In Robert Anderson’s article, The Rashomon Effect and Communication, he describes the phenomenon based upon Akira Kurosawa’s 1950 film which uses character perspective and flashbacks to cause viewers to question the possibility of the existence of an objective truth. Anderson argues the power of the Rashomon Effect is greater than difference in perspective but that it “occurs particularly where such differences arise in combination with the absence of evidence to elevate or disqualify any version of the truth, plus the social pressure for closure on the question ” (Canadian Journal of Communication).

The story of the Barrett family’s demise continues beyond completion reading A Head Full of Ghosts because of this phenomenon. According to Anderson, the absence of truth in any of the different perspectives and social pressure for closure make for a strong case of the Rashomon effect. Tremblay’s twist revelation in the last few pages that Merry is the sole survivor of a homicidal poisoning she was convinced to carry out by her own sister is horrifying. The facts of the case alone are disgusting, but the fact that Merry has been the reader’s only insight into the events fifteen years prior to her interviews. Merry is everywhere. There are multiple versions of Merry’s truth–young Merry’s perspective, “Karen Brissette” analyzing The Possession and her adult rationalization of the events but the only concrete truth of what happened in the Barrett home was captured by raw footage of the camera crew, which ended a month before Merry killed her family. How can the reader trust that anything she has told prior to that revelation was entirely true? Anderson argues that the reader is pressured into believing the least disturbing version of the narrative to find closure, despite Tremblay’s best efforts.

Image source.

Monsters Embody Human Difference

The synthesis in Monster Culture (Seven Theses) by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen is very tightly packed. For a moment I just want to unwrap some of what he made me think about. Throughout his argument my mind was brought to the idea of “the Other”. The outsider, or complete opposite, from the human self. I started to think about the idea of calling another human a monster, but even more so the idea of monsters embodying human difference. Particularly in the last four theses of his argument.

Cohen uses examples of beasts and creatures: godzilla, nosferatu, alien. While monsters can be literally different in form, they also all personify a difference from one’s self, which is a lot of what Cohen is getting at. Just as someone can be scared of monsters, it seems fair to say that humans are scared of difference; scared of change.

Cohen’s argument of portrayal, monsters linger in difference, demonstrates humans’ more artistic rendering of the fear of the Other. “In medieval France the chansons de geste celebrated the crusades by transforming Muslims into demonic caricatures whose menacing lack of humanity was readable from their bestial attributes; by culturally glossing ‘Saracens’ as ‘monstra;’ propagandists rendered rhetorically admissible the annexation of the East by the West.” (8) His example of caricaturization makes me think of political cartoons. Especially in his brief discussion of “political or ideological difference” as being “much a catalyst to monstrous representation on a micro level as cultural alterity in the macrocosm.” (8) A dehumanizing representation of humans, especially those whose arguments and decisions are not in line with your own.

In his thesis regarding monsters policing the borders of possible Cohen explains “the monsters are here, as elsewhere, expedient representations of other cultures, generalized and demonized to enforce a strict notion of group sameness. The fears of contamination, impurity, and loss of identity that produce stories like the Genesis episode are strong, and they reappear incessantly.” (16) As a religious text, the Bible is something many philosophers seem to turn to in analyzing social patterns. Some of the earliest examples of embodied fear or difference with consequence. It’s through this example that I started to think about how we use the word monster in the modern world and how human a monster can be.

I had one thought that sums up his section on fearing the monster being an embodiment of desire. In putting another down one is attempting to raise oneself. Humans pick on others out of jealousy and envy.

In defining monsters as mystical, I agree with Cohen’s final argument – that more fantastical monsters exist through knowledge and in the mind. But I find his concluding statements about monsters one last reference to the idea of monsters as an embodiment of the fear of difference. “Monsters are our children… These monsters ask us how we perceive the world, and how we have misrepresented what we have attempted to place.” (20)

Was Margerie a Monster?

Paul Tremblay’s Head Full of Ghosts left me wondering how we were supposed to read Margerie’s character. Was she an innocent teenager gripped by a dangerous mental illness, or a monster living among us? In this blog post, I will evaluate her against Jeffery Jerome Cohen’s Monster Culture (Seven Theses). All seven points and their summarizing quotations come from this essay.

Thesis I: The Monster’s Body is a Cultural Body – “An embodiment of a certain cultural moment” (4).
Female sexuality is a cultural moment that Margerie is aware of and capitalizes on. She makes people uncomfortable by appearing in a sports bra and her possession often takes on sexual forms, such as in the masturbation scene (86). Margerie is also tech-savvy and uses the internet to further her creepy knowledge-base and our media-saturated society to try and expose her father.

Thesis II:  The Monster Always Escapes – “No monster tastes of death but once” (5).
This one seems to discount Margerie as a monster. She does die, seemingly for good. However, in our technological society, dying is a complicated act. Margerie has stopped living and aging, but she lives on through mediated representations of herself (although, was the Margerie that was captured on cameras and will eventually be captured in the book is arguably not the “true” her but just a part she was playing). She also lives on in Merry’s memory, which at times seems almost obsessive. 

Thesis III: The Monster is the Harbinger of Category Crisis – “a form suspended between forms that threatens to smash distinctions” (6).
Like other stories of possession, a Head Full of Ghosts relies on the of categories to create fear. The possessed is a female child, seemingly the most innocent example of humanity, yet they act in horrible ways that disgust us. Margerie also blurs the boundaries between sane and insane, well-meaning and malicious. She is a daughter, sister, student, devil, sadist, and family annihilator all-in-one – i.e. a monster.

Thesis IV: The Monster Dwells at the Gates of Difference – “monstrous difference tends to be cultural, political, racial, economic, sexual” (7).
As Cohen says, “the woman who oversteps the boundaries of her gender roles risks becoming” a monster (9). Margerie is seen as too smart for “a girl like her” and is seen as aberrant because of this (179). Her mom, the fellow female, points out that a young girl is definitely capable of possessing her knowledge about seemingly obscure topics. The priests, however, are attempting to other Margerie in order to turn her into a monster that they can exorcize.

Thesis V: The Monster Polices the Border of the Possible – “the monster prevents mobility…delimiting the social spaces through which private bodies may move” (12).
I had a hard time mapping this thesis onto Margerie until I focused on the line that stated that all monsters are living a “double narrative” – the one about how they came to be and another about the cultural utility they serve. Margerie certainly has a double narrative, at least by her own account. She claims that she wanted to pretend to be possessed in order to expose her dad’s real sickness, but the ending of the book suggests that she was actually sick, therefore her cultural utility was showing just how delusional and manipulating individuals can be.

Thesis VI: The Fear of the Monster is Really a Kind of Desire – “the linking of monstrosity with the forbidden makes the monster all the more appealing” (17).
Merry looks up to her sister and seems to have a complicated relationship towards her possession. She continues to love her sister for the majority of the book. When Margerie’s room became off limits, Merry snuck in while everyone was asleep, obviously unable to resist what was forbidden.
In a different vein, Margerie pokes at a weak spot of the priest’s: an interest in kiddie porn. After an episode that we assume portrayed a reenactment of Margerie’s violent masturbation and Margerie’s discomfort when the priest touches her chest, she seems to be aware of and resisting her own possible taboo appeal.

Thesis VII: The Monster Stands at the Threshold…of Becoming – “monsters are our children…they ask us to reevaluate…they ask us why we have created them” (20).
Perhaps Margerie was created to show us how technology ruins our lives, or how mental illness is a serious issue that can debilitate a person. She isn’t given the help she needed and everything went awry in the end, teaching us that money is not the answer, that reality TV isn’t reality, and that mental illnesses can’t be cured with exorcisms.

By Cohen’s definition, Margerie is indeed a monster, but I think that it’s important to remember that she was turned into one by society and that underneath of it all she was just a sick young girl.

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. “Monster Culture (Seven Theses).” Monster Theory, 1996, pp. 3–25., doi:10.5749/j.ctttsq4d.4.

Tremblay, Paul. A Head Full of Ghosts. William Morrow & Company, 2017.

Tillich’s Symbol and Baldwin’s Letter

Cohen defines the monster as a representation of culture and uses medieval, Biblical, and Greek myths to fuel his “monster theory.” The ideas in “Monster Culture (Seven Theses)” are reminiscent of Paul Tillich’s essay “The Religious Symbol,” in which Tillich defines “symbolics” as “a general science of the self-expression of all groups, tendencies, and communities” (4). Cohen’s chapter feels like a branch from Tillich’s essay in that the monster is a specific form of the symbol used to embody abjection to “the other.” Cohen emphasizes sexuality, disability, and race as specific areas of anxiety to our culture. Tillich goes onto say that symbols may change unconsciously as cultures change, and thus create myths, which are used to explain one culture’s interpretation of existence (Tillich 9). Cohen references multiple myths in this chapter to show how many monsters appear throughout the history of storytelling. While Cohen includes that monsters represent a “certain cultural moment,” I wonder what he would think about a monster’s implication of that culture’s existence?

Part of the anxiety of monsters is a fear of the foreign or racial fears. On page 11, Cohen writes, “The political-cultural monster, the embodiment of radical difference, paradoxically threatens to erase difference in the world of its creators… Difference that exists outside the system is terrifying because it reveals the truth of the system, its relativity, its fragility, and its mortality…” This language reminded me of James Baldwin’s “A Letter to My Nephew,” in which Baldwin is explaining blackness in America to his nephew, but it was published in his book The Fire Next Time and meant to be read by both black and white. He writes, “…The danger in the minds and hearts of most white Americans is the loss of their identity. Try to imagine how you would feel if you woke up one morning to find the sun shivering and all the stars aflame. You would be frightened because it is out of the order of nature. Any upheaval in the universe is terrifying because it so profoundly attacks one’s sense of one’s own reality. Well, the black man has functioned in the white man’s world as a fixed star, as an immovable pillar, and as he moves out of his place, heaven and earth are shaken to their foundations” (par. 9). This quote echoes Cohen’s statement that monsters threaten to destroy the world of its creators, who “have been mainly European [and American] and male” (Cohen 15). Cohen also mentions a fear of darker skin, and Baldwin’s language easily depicts the black man as a monster destroying the white man’s world, and even defying laws of nature or disrupting the order of things.

Works Cited

Baldwin, James. “A Letter to My Nephew.” The Progressive. Dec. 1, 1962. Web.

Tillich, Paul. “The Religious Symbol.” Daedalus, vol. 87, no. 3, 1958, pp. 3–21. JSTOR. Web. 

The Monsters Within

Monsters are a topic that’s not frequently discussed, however Jeffrey Cohen’s Monster Culture (Seven Theses) allows for a more in-depth way of thinking about a universally unknown lifestyle.  One of the things that stood out to me was was Thesis VI, stating “Fear of the Monster is Really a Kind of Desire,” because of it’s spooky ties to any postmodern novel, article, film, etc.  The entirety of postmodernism is to lure people in with the fear that they wouldn’t be able to face in reality.  Having people understand that this is within a Hollywood setting and not a household setting allows for some ease when discussing this culture. Along this idea, it’s important to understand that directors and authors are thriving off of this so-called “monster culture” because people are anxious about their worst fear, however they desire fear the most.

Cohan’s last quote of this thesis asks, “Do monsters really exist? Surely they must, for if they did not, how could we” (Cohen 20)? He is insisting that we are the ones who are most fearful of the monster itself, yet we are the creators and the true monsters of everything.  It’s fascinating to analyze Cohen because he dissects that none of this fear and none of this anxiety would even be present if it weren’t for humans craving fear, as well as being the main producers of it. When comparing this ideal to postmodern horror, humans are not only metaphorical producers, but they’re literal film producers as well, assigned with the job to stimulate the fear that other humans have created.

With the interesting point of humans being the real monsters, I found a powerful image that summarizes everything previously said.

Parental Desperation

Just to preface this, I did read the end of the book.

Throughout my reading of A Head Full of Ghosts I kept trying to decide if the parents were truly invested in Majorie’s well being or if all this was just a front to save a failing family. From the beginning of Mary’s problems her mother and father play rather withdrawn and emotionally fragile roles. They never seem to send her to any kind of practical medical practitioner nor do they seem to operate in a way that put her needs first.

The father’s unconvincingly quick transition back into Catholicism can be chalked up to fear or to his will to make the television show work. Either way his connection to the faith seems flimsy at best. Even Mary can detect the lackluster-ness of his prayers and actions. During the exorcism he puts the pain of his daughter second to the words of men that he pretends to know. Even with his connection, or lack there of, to Christianity aside Mary’s father is a very complicated man. We learn a lot about his possible motivations in chapter 25 when Majorie has Mary read some more stories. These stories are all about the “breadwinners” of the household and how the loss of that status drove them mad in some way. I believe many of us have assumed that Mary’s father’s motivation to invite the camera crews into his house were largely monetarily based. He even says that in one of the earlier chapters when he hails the TV show as the thing that will save the family. In reality it breaks it apart beyond repair. He is a fragile man and I do believe that his fragility likely stems from his inability to hold work and provide for his family. He then imposes this self-consciousness and weakness upon his family, namely Marjorie.

The Mother is one of the most disappointing characters in the entire book I believe. She sees all that her husband is doing wrong and even visibly shows disapproval, but never fully puts a stop to it. Unlike her husband I believe that her heart is in the right place and that her desperation comes not from a projection of self-centered beliefs, but rather from the fear of harm befalling her child. As any good parent she does not want to see Marjorie in pain and she does do what she can to be compassionate and caring. What is frustrating as a reader is that she is as complacent as she is loving. It is hard to judge her as her pain is clear and her confusion is even more so. Her husband has embraced a path which she does not agree with, as seen in many cases especially during the exorcism when she does not participate, and yet she is too afraid and confused to offer up any solutions to counter him. Her desperation combined with his desperation lead to the sad ending of the story and families’ lives.

The actions of Marjorie’s parents are that of desperation. They both want to save her, and, in the case of her father, save themselves. Her dad feels as though he has failed his family and in this book we see his final attempts to fix his shortcomings. Her mother is terrified of what is happening to Marjorie, reasonably so, but her fear drives her to accept irrational thought. In the end both parent’s desperation leads to their joint suicide and joint murder of their child. An act which I personally find unforgivable.