Category: Group D

Memento Mori: remember you must die. Pretty bleak, right? But what makes us think this way?

Death in our society is a complex enigma, considered taboo and accompanied by variety of competing emotions. We rarely speak about death, unless prompted to do so. Death has been dressed up as many other characters, using words such as “passing” and religious justification to make us feel better about it. What’s strange, however, is that while we shield ourselves from the concept of death, our own mortality, and the societal baggage it carries, we love to surround ourselves with the morbid through media.

If you have ever watched Criminal Minds, you know what I mean. Popular TV and film often incorporate and even fixate on the topic of death in their productions, as the audience seems to be fascinated and intrigued by the concept of the death of others. We “enjoy” watching horror movies, where characters drop like flies, or documentaries about serial killers, in which each killing is grotesquely described. The irony, then, appears in our inability to face our own mortality, yet we love to observe the death and dying of estranged others.

While it may seem a far fletched comparison, this pop culture trend of “death in media” is not all that different from the death photography of Victorian England. The use of photography to capture the last image of the deceased, and to immortalize what once was, is just another way in which media exposes human mortality. In Susan Sontag’s “On Photography,” she speaks about how the invent of the photo changed the way in which we view the world, as “taking photographs has set up a chronic voyeuristic relation to the world which levels the meaning of all events” (Sontag, 11). In the case of death photography, the picture “confers on the event a kind of immortality (and importance) it would never otherwise have enjoyed” (Sontag, 11). This paradox of death photography emerges in the way in which a photo of the deceased both immortalizes those in the picture, while also provided a permanent reminder of our own inevitable death.

Death in popular TV and media has come to serve a very similar purpose as death photography, in that while in viewing the death of fictional characters (or distanced, real people in the case of non-fiction) we may have a little comfort in the reminder that we are still living, but also that these images of death also serve as a memento mori in their own way. There is something inherent in human nature that drives us to fixate on death, despite our society’s backwards inclination to deny and bury death as it comes to actually affect us. The use of media, and the protection of a “lens” gives us a vehicle by which we can safely view death and remember our mortality, while being distanced enough that we still feel comfortable.

I’m not a fan of violence. It’s basically what we resort to when we have differences and decide communication is hopeless. We’ve gotten really good at that second part, looking for excuses to create the other, to ignore commonalities and kill whoever appears to threaten the status-quo, because it’s also efficient, and if they’re dead, they can’t threaten us again. But, when we resort to violence, we risk getting killed, too, we rob others of lives they’re just as entitled to as we are to our own, and we kill any chance at partnership. In a capitalistic society, that seems counterintuitive even if you ignore the significant humanitarian concerns. And yet, we’re conditioning our children to destroy the other, removing emotion from the picture and teaching them to kill this other simply because it is the other. That’s potentially helpful if we get invaded by aliens who want to destroy us, but chances are, if we do make contact with aliens, it won’t devolve into violence because they’ll be tiny organisms or plants or something of the kind. So, what are we doing, then? We’re teaching our children to destroy their fellow humans, breeding a lack of empathy and promoting blind slaughter of the other, whether these are people who don’t look like us, don’t sound like us, don’t share our views, or don’t come from the same place as us. Of course, this targets marginalized groups. It makes us worse. It magnifies our differences and drives us apart. I’m not sure who that helps. Let’s pay attention to humanitarian, economic, etc. concerns instead of finding the best ways to have fun and reduce video game violence, cut out the monsters, and move towards a healthier society. Our indulgence doesn’t need to cross every line.

To quickly summarize “Who hearkens to the monster’s scream? Death, violence and the veil of the monstrous in video games”, Carly Kocurek argues that we as a society moralize death and violence in video games by dehumanizing the enemy, by turning them into monsters. She calls for further research into the issue stating that it may be causing intergroup bias (87) or illustrate those we commit violence against as inherently monstrous (88). After sitting on the reading for some time, I am still hesitant to say that I fully agree with the basis of her argument. I understand, and agree, with the point she brings up about we as consumers justifying violence through dehumanization of the victim. In fact, we are complicit with the violence the second we purchase the game to play because we are telling the developers that we are okay with their practices of normalizing violence. However, I just can’t fully buy into her argument because I think she disregards the purpose of video games and entertainment in general.

To me, a video game is a chance to experience something that is not available in reality. It is a chance to fantasize and escape your life in favor of a digital creation of a controlled environment. That being said, games serve to give us control that we lack in real life. I think that violence in video games is just another instance of giving us dominance or control that every human craves, as morbid as it sounds. We as people enjoy having some sense of control in our lives because it gives us a sense of stability and contentment. I think that unless we are feeling the literal sensations of killing a monster/zombie/alien/human, we are physically and mentally disconnected from the violence via the game interface. It is obvious then, that the violence on screen is not meant to represent real life. Even in cases of realistic portrayals of violence, see Grand Theft Auto or Postal, you have to remember that these are games, imaginary environments that have imaginary rules. If we were to take all entertainment, games, movies, books, music, as reality, I think we would be creating unnecessary metalepsis. I argue that we need to step back and take entertainment at face value.

If Kocurek was to reevaluate her argument, I would suggest that she argue that we as a society moralize violence in video games because we understand that video games are meant to be controlled, imaginary experiences separate from our reality. To reiterate, I agree with the points she makes, I just think that she went overlooked the purpose that entertainment in general serves us. I agree that we dehumanize victims in order to justify digital violence. But I want to ask Kocurek, why does the violence exist in the first place?

In the Netflix series “Dead Set,” ordinary people are tragically transformed into flesh-eating zombies faster than the camera can follow. These zombies, which are quick on their feet and unrelenting in their search for a human meal, have bright blue eyes and emit unearthly, snarling and screeching noises as they chase and attack their prey.

While some may say that the noises emitted by these zombies add to the terror which they elicit, I argue that it would be much scarier if the zombies did not make these unearthly sounds and instead maintained their human characteristics. In the reading for today’s class, the author speaks about how simple, almost negligible changes to the “enemy” are used to justify the violent killing which takes place in many horror films or video games (Kocurek, 87). These changes can take the form of different colored blood, alien-like behaviors, or in the case of Deadset, the eyes and noises which characterize the zombies. This change makes the killing more palatable, and creates a distance between the human protagonists and the monstrous enemy. In this way, the horror of the of the zombies stems from the fear of being eaten, and a certain degree of relief is felt by brutally killing them with a head wound.

I argue that while the concept of being eaten by a zombie is indeed horrifying, the snarling dehumanizes the zombies to a point where it actually detracts from the horror. If the zombies were to lose the unearthly sounds, but rather maintain their recognizable human qualities, there would be an added, and more psychological layer of horror to the plot. In the episode, “Her Name Was Claire,” the main protagonist watches someone she knew ravenously munch on a corpse below. This past-tense implies a termination of identity– that this zombie is not longer the human Claire, but rather is a monstrous other who must be killed. But what if Claire maintained the characteristics of Claire, just with the added zombie characteristics of mania and an appetite for human flesh? This would make the hapless killing of zombie enemies much more psychologically complex, with fear stemming from not only the threat of being eaten, but also of having to smash in the head of someone who you actively know. This idea takes the concept of “dead kindred” to an extreme, such that the antagonists of the story are not some distinct, dehumanized other, but rather are still included as part of the human community. The psychological horror which stems from the thought of killing someone you know tends to strike a deeper part of the conscious, and maybe even subconscious, than the gore and violence of conventional horror (unless you are a psychopath). Further, the maintenance of human characteristics without the additive growling and animal like-behavior adds a more realistic feel to the story-line.

The reading for Wednesday’s class discusses the use of zombie gothic genre to both appease and target the real anxieties of society. In Deadset, this is achieved by having a zombie monster which is not quite human, but just human enough to make us think. However, if this is taken a step further, edging on more targeting of real anxiety than appeasing it, the series would be much more effective in instilling fear in the audience. That being said, I am not sure this degree of horror would appeal much to the public, and would probably never actually be enacted in film, as the main point of movies and shows is to appeal to and be consumed by the masses.

When I was a young boy, I remember being limited to the time I could play video games. It was not as fun as you would expect. Every time I wanted to play, I had to ask my parents for  permission. It was ridiculous, in my opinion, to know that my parents bought me a video game console to just sit there and build dust overtime. Despite not being able to play as much as I wanted, there was always this feeling that my parents did not approve of my satisfaction of getting killstreaks on the latest Call of Duty at the time. Today, it can be said that same perspectives remain with parents. Video games, specifically violent ones that include killing, have gained a bad reputation due to all the school shootings over the past years. However, what many parents overlook is that these games actually maintain this border between reality by modifying the game and demonstrated productivity to mental health, academics, and socialization.

In Carly Kocurek’s article, “Who hearkens to the monster’s scream? Death, violence and the veil of the monstrous in video games” she argues that the form in which many video games have been able to get away with killings in games is because the creators of the game have been able to shift the perspective of killings. The creators have indicated that the players are not killing humans but rather evil villains that monsters. Though this might be true for some games, for other games like Call of Duty, it did not apply. However, creator of the games were able to make sense of human killing games because of the modified blood or because the people being killed were just plain evil. I agree with Kocurek’s claim because it does help understand why violent video games have been able to sorrow in the industry. Therefore, the idea that violent video games are “bad” is thrown out the window. Plus, many of the people who play these games are also focused on different objectives than just merely killing.

One of the most popular games of today with people of all ages, especially children, is Fortnite. One of the main characteristics of the game is this style of Battle Royal where you have to be the last standing individual in a combat setting. The game has been able to be take off as one of the most successful game franchises of all time because it is not only free but all ages are able to play. The thing about this game is that it has been able to open opportunities for a lot of players to gain income and scholarships. This is one of the many reasons why Fortnite and other games like Call of Duty have been able to help those gamers stay on their consoles all day and night because they are reaching the goal of becoming the best to get recognized by certain scholarships and brands. Along with this, the games have served ways in which large communities of players create networks to employment opportunities based on their in-game communication and style of play. These games have become such an importance to many gamers that there are professional competitions that are streamed through large networks such as ESPN.

In addition to the opportunity for income, scholarships, and professional employments, the games have also served ways in which individuals can benefit physically and mentally. In a YouTube video by Alltime10s explains 10 ways that games are good for your health. Some of those benefits are that many films, games, and visual media that demonstrate violent and horror games actually lead to weight loss. Although it is minor, it can help those gamers who need to increase their metabolism. Plus, the games help certain hospital procedures become less painful as patients are focused on playing video games and that especially works if your goal is to kill a monster that is running away or to you. There are many more benefits to playing video games and if YouTube is not credible enough for you, the Huffington Post news website has given nine more ways video games are good for humans that come from multiple studies. Nevertheless, the goal of killing in games is much less of a problem when it is benefiting the player to a better health and opens opportunities to further excel in life with skills that they can actually apply in their jobs. So the next time you are playing a video game that is violent or not and someone tells you that you are wasting your time, direct them to these links and it might change their mind.

Links:
Alltime10s. “10 Ways Video Games Are Good For Your Health.” YouTube, YouTube, 11 Nov. 2017, www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQtMwgVT1mo.

Guarini, Drew. “9 Ways Video Games Can Actually Be Good For You.” The Huffington Post, TheHuffingtonPost.com, 7 Dec. 2017, www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/11/07/video-games-good-for-us_n_4164723.html.

In class we created a list of binary pairs seen in A Head Full of Ghosts. My group felt as if many of those pairs (witch doctor/doctor, possession/mental illness, supernatural/ natural, public/ private, religion/ science) could be equated to the father/ mother pairing. The father felt the best course of action was to rely on the church and religion to help Marjorie while the mother looked for more logical, scientific reasons and responses to her daughters condition. Merry witnessed several hushed (and not so hushed) disagreements between her parents about how to handle Marjorie and what was really wrong with her. While the father ultimately won out (which fits into familial stereotypes), the Barrett parents do differ with regards to normal gender roles.

Society usually places the hysterics and illogical thoughts of possession onto women, while the “white coat” males of science come to the rescue. It is basically the opposite for the Barrett family. The mother scoffs at the fathers escape to religion and would much rather have her daughter see a psychiatrist. Creed’s article also mentions one part of The Exorcist that breaks away from the male/ female norms and also the norms of horror. While most of the tension in the movie tends to be related to a male/ female power struggle the one dynamic that breaks this mold according to Creed is the struggle between Regan and the entity who possess her. Creed makes an interesting argument that the devil inside Regan is in fact female. This is not what one would expect from an evil spirit possessing a young innocent girl.

Another interesting (somewhat unrelated) comparison between A Head Full of Ghosts and The Exorcist is the thought that the cause of possession could be related to parent-child relationships. Creed talks about how the problematic parts of Regan’s relationship with her mother are amplified in her possession.

“Mother’s swearing becomes Regan’s obscenities; Mother’s sexual frustrations become Regan’s lewd suggestions; Mother’s anger becomes Regan’s power” (pg. 39)

I think this could also translate to A Head Full of Ghosts. Without the families money issues and relationship problems Marjorie’s “possession” may have looked very different.

In chapter 17 of  “A Head Full of Ghost,” Tremblay introduces the concept of the Hawthorne effect in where the boundaries of possession and psychosis are blurred even further. If you are not aware of what the effect entails, it consists of a reaction from an individual that changes their behavior due to their awareness of being observed. We witness this through the introduction of reality TV and how it becomes a factor in how the family changes their ways of living.

Initially, the family’s life description can be stated as chaotic and catastrophic. The family was going through a crisis that really looked like there was no hope in resolving Marjorie’s issue. The mother was put into withdraw in neglecting the idea that her daughter was experiencing some form of possession while the father was reluctant in adopting new ideas other than religion. Merry’s naïve character just furthered issues by letting Marjorie tattoo sinister stories into her mind. Most importantly, Marjorie’s mental illness or possession continuing to break down the family. However, it is not until the TV crew comes where we witness a change in character in all characters. Specifically, Marjorie which comes as a surprise.

Throughout the novel, we expect and are gullible to the idea the Marjorie is truly possessed based on her actions, yet when Merry interacts with her at the basement, the “truth” is that she is not actually possessed. I find it very interesting how not only Marjorie but everyone else in the family experiences the Hawthorne effect when they suddenly are aware that their being watched by cameramen. Suddenly, the number of possessed acts that we were being fed in the beginning has come to a stop. There was little to no stories that were being told about Marjorie from Merry about her being abnormal. The majority of the possessed-like events come from the writers from the reality TV and Merry’s willingness to give into the TV’s hunger for content to make things up. Plus, the idea that we find that most possessed tropes to be willing to show their true selves is what makes this idea more confusing.

When we saw The Exorcist by William Friedkin, the main protagonist Regan was possessed by Pazuzu’s demon in which the demon was willing to show their true identity regardless of an audience. Plus, in other films involving the supernatural, the main trope is that the demon continuously attempts to show their identity to those who live in the home. Therefore, I question why Marjorie has not shown more of her possessed character if a demon would want to establish their identity to scare those who are involved and feed off their negative energy. Despite the common tropes, it is still unsolved whether Majorie is truly possessed and as we continue through the story, it becomes less probable that she is truly possessed but rather experiencing a mental illness that is causing her to have a personality identity issue.

During a summer in Maine, my friend who interned at the Farnsworth, which houses one of the largest private collections of New England painter American Wyeth’s works, drove me the back way to see a touchstone of American Pastoralism – the Wyeth house.

The Wyeth House is most notable for its faded appearance in Wyeth’s Christina’s World. The subject of the painting is a woman stricken with polio. As she strains to the insurmountable distance between her and home, we are terrified for her, for her helplessness (Small “The Controversial Story Behind Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World”).

(Here’s a link to more of an in depth explanation of Andrew Wyeth and Christina Olson:
https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-controversial-story-andrew-wyeths-famous-painting)

Upon visiting the locale, a tourist might be struck by how small the hill actually is, how seemingly comforting, sunny even, the rolling hills of the Wyeth property are. Gone seemingly is the melancholia, the borderline American Gothicism, that the artistic rendering of the place provokes.

Wyeth’s brush embeds Christina in a different narrative setting. Perspective triumphs. We are in a listless wind with Christina. The house above her looms hauntingly.

Christina’s body is made a subject of this mood. We are made, however problematically, to feel the anguish of her disability. She is a subject of Wyeth’s gaze. We see of her what he desires we see. There is set dressing involved.

In The Monstrous Feminine, Barbara Creed relates Julia Kristeva’s notion of the female abjectivity to Regan of the Exorcist. Creed writes that the “abject represents that which “disturbs identity, system, order’” (Creed 37). This, Creed then relates to the “infantile.” Christina’s shape seems one of the yet developed “crawling” of a child (Small “The Controversial Story”). I insert Creed’s notion of the abject because what is rendered in Wyeth’s painting is a subject of the female abject. Christina is isolated by her abjected, disabled body just as Marjorie’s declining mental illness isolate and render her abject.

This is all to say that perhaps this rumination on the interiority on a female’s illness is why the painting finds its way into Merry’s adult apartment. As the class has spoken about many of the intertext in A Head Full of Ghosts, Tremblay chooses his cultural references with care and narrative purport (Tremblay 108).

Just as we are wound into Christina’s mental state, so too are we involved in Marjorie’s emerging “schizophrenia” (if that indeed is what afflicts her). The reality or unreality of the T.V show subjects her, her feigned complicity in this (she initially tells Merry that she schemed this for the financial benefit of the family) is shown when she “flips off” the camera wielding Merry (Tremblay 137).

Merry describes Marjorie as the “ghost of the house” in that she “haun[ts] her own bedroom” (Tremblay 138). In the way Christina’s broken frame seems to haunt the home she strains to reach so too does Marjorie become an abstracted presence, a subject of surveillance even in her own abode. I want to ruminate on this idea of being made a “ghost” of one’s own private space. Seemingly, Marjorie’s identity, which was the former owner of her space, is altered, her abject body is made a phantom of her former self. However, this is seemingly a product of the way her identity is constructed through the process of filming. Her reality is made less real by the existence of the other family who acts as stand in personae for her real self in The Possession. Their presence dictates a residual absence, their simulation of Marjorie’s life replaces her private lived experience with a public, excepted, “real,” truth. Therefore, through the processing of subjectivity, Marjorie indeed becomes possessed, but not by a demon necessarily, but of public perception. Simply put, our narrative idea of Marjorie comes to force her into an inescapable personae that even she seems confused by. The audience who watches her comes to be the demon who ultimately possesses Marjorie.

Just as we impose a face to the faceless image of Christina in the painting, so too do we impose a subject position upon Marjorie that assumes an interiority that lessens perhaps her actual identity. Our notions of subject materialize, they shape, they contort, they manipulate, they reduce and deny. They possess.