Many movies released in the last few years, like the Resident Evil or The Purge franchises, use dystopian or apocalyptic settings to create worlds where the events of the movie become believable. These settings ask the viewer to suspend their disbelief because the events of the film couldn’t possibly be or become true, but only exist in these fantasy landscapes. Other horror films immerse their audience in a familiar, routine setting to distort feelings of comfort and safety.
Our discussion of the word “uncanny” fits in nicely with this second category of horror, because the most successful horror works rely on their uncanny moments. It forces the audience to rethink elements they take for granted in everyday life. Hit horror movies from The Exorcist– now almost 45 years old- up to the Paranormal Activity franchise have used this approach to become more successful than their jump-scare counterparts and stay relevant in the horror genre years after their initial release. These are the movies that leave us thinking about what we might do if we found ourselves vulnerable in comfortable, familiar situations. I believe these “what-if” moments form the basis for what makes horror successful and memorable.
In the same way as these hit movies, horror novels force readers to suspend their disbelief in a crafty, underhanded way because authors cannot set a tone through actors, music, lighting, or a visual set. Successful horror books do not rely on jump-scares, or terrifying costumes- they must subvert their readers’ ideas about the world and disrupt a sense of safety. While reading through A Head Full of Ghosts, this idea kept coming back to me. What elements made the novel scary rather than gimmicky? What made it successful as a horror book? I want to talk about two elements in the first five chapters that Paul Tremblay did well.
One of the first things I noticed as I started reading A Head Full of Ghosts was how jarring the novel begins. It’s not unusual that the novel starts off in a distant future looking back on the events of the book, but the novel leaves you in the dark as you figure out what is happening. Paul Tremblay found a great way to suspend our disbelief by allowing us to look back with the reporter on Merry’s childhood. However, it takes a few chapters to get used to the idea that we are looking back on past events through Merry’s perspective. On top of that, the blogs and message-board passages draw us in by alluding to events they assume we are familiar with, and this makes us curious and pulls us in farther. Once I got past the hurtle of understanding how Paul Tremblay was setting up the story, it became easier to follow- but maybe this is the literary version of an introductory jump-scare. Beginning the novel by confusing the reader forces us to focus on understanding what is happening rather than criticizing horror tropes or studying the text for foreshadows or other hints. It draws us in to care about the family and the people, and humanizes the situation.
Second, the relationship between Merry and her sister form the basis for why the novel is uncanny- and why it is successful as a work of horror. By aligning ourselves with Merry and seeing the story through her perspective, her actions seem perfectly understandable and logical. Yes, Merry might have built a fort and wants only to read stories with her older sister, but knowing that she is eight years old excuses her actions and creates a sense of innocence. When Merry’s relationship with her sister begins to change, with the story about the Boston Molasses Disaster and the note about sneaking into Merry’s room, we place ourselves in Merry’s position and think about our own siblings.
Since this is a horror novel, mostly innocent actions like Marjorie holding Merry’s nose shut while she is sleeping seems more foreboding than the normal sister-sister relationship. What makes this successful, I think, is the way that normal sibling interactions are warped and threaten the innocence of Merry’s character. It makes us think of our own siblings or family and places us in this uncanny situation as we relate with and fear for Merry. I think the most successful works of horror, either films or novels, make the audience ask themselves what-if questions. I absolutely found myself thinking, “What if this happened in my own family?” and “What would I do if I were in Merry’s position?”