Fear Thy Neighbor: The Monster Next Door in “Dead Set”

In the chapter “Monster Culture (Seven Theses),” of Monster Theory : Reading Culture, Jeffrey Jerome Cohen does exactly as his title suggests, interpreting seven different types of monsters as cultural embodiments of specific fears, taboos, and desires within cultures. His fourth thesis, titled “The Monster Dwells at the Gates of Difference,” struck me as particularly relevant to today’s global climate. In this thesis, Cohen claims that “The monster is difference made flesh,” a “dialectical Other” that represents “an incorporation of the Outside, the Beyond…” (Cohen 7). This cultural fear of the invasive, dangerous Outsider is highly applicable within the context of contemporary society where the widespread fear of the “Other” is linked directly to the fear of terrorism and the need for protection, whatever the cost.

However, as I watched Episodes 1 and 2 of the TV mini-series Dead Set and attempted to apply Cohen’s fourth argument to the violent zombies on the screen, I began to wonder if perhaps there was an important nuance to be made in this thesis. While the zombies were physically on the outside of the safe house and then further estranged as “Other” by their cannibalistic behavior, they still existed right next door. Kelly is separated from a zombie by only a door just as Patrick and Pippa are cloistered away in a room while a zombie bangs in frustration on its entrance.  Despite their positioning as Outsiders, the zombies’ close proximity put them in a different category all together: that of the neighbor (rather than the stranger).

The only thing separating the “Big Brother” cast from the zombies is this door. Source: “Dead Set.” Season 1 Episode 2/5. Netflix.

This imagery of the neighbor is further reinforced by the fact that the reality show Big Brother is filmed within a constructed house reminiscent of Foucault’s panopticon in which the cast can’t see out but the film crew can see in. The physical and literal invocation of the house and surveillance immediately establishes a relationship between the inhabitants within and those on the outside. In one scene, Kelly taps on the one-way mirror and the audience sees what she cannot: a hungry zombie growling on the other side of the glass. In this moment, human and monster coexist next door to each other, only inches apart. The one-sided mirror serves the same delineative purpose as the traditional white picket fence that separates properties and neighbors. However, this barrier is soon penetrated when the zombie gets in through the door.

These zombies are violent, cannibalistic, wild, disgusting, and without any trace of humanity. What’s even more unsettling is that they still resemble the familiar faces of the cast and crew we met at the beginning of Episode 1 when they were human. The cinematic choice to maintain the physical identification of these original characters even as zombies is effective because it confuses the Familiar with the Other. The zombies are at once different because of their violence and familiar because of their faces. In this sense, the Other does not represent an Outsider from far away lands but rather the monster that’s living next door. I’ll title this eighth thesis, “The Monster Dwells at the Gates of…your own home.” One thing is certain, you can’t trust your neighbor. Time to get a bigger fence.

References: 

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. “Monster Culture (Seven Theses).” Monster Theory : Reading Culture. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996. Web.

Being a zombie, with and without actually being dead.

The beginning of Dead Set was interesting to say the least. At first I did not think that the disasters all over the U.K. would be tied to zombies until we see the car driver get attacked. I am not a fan of scary/horror movies or shows, so being scared at first was a natural reaction. However, what came after that wave of emotions really surprised me. As I began to see more and more people getting attacked by the undead I began to think back to Marjorie’s violent actions in A Head Full of Ghosts. Every time a zombie takes a bite out of a human I picture Marjorie biting into the priest.

Zombies biting into human flesh, akin to Marjorie’s actions.

Following this method of thinking I can see how Marjorie herself might be similar to the zombies on the show. They are both not in a fully conscious(assuming zombies are different people than their human counterparts) or autonomous state. Their actions are influenced by factors out of their reach, and they are not the same person that they were before. I like to believe that Marjorie ultimately did suffer from a mental illness, and that led to her actions. I think this connection brings up the more important issue of how we deal with those that have mental illnesses. In the show we see that the human’s first action is to freak out, which is understandable because they are being attacked. However, when Marjorie begins to act strangely, her parent’s first reaction is to freak out as well. Mental illnesses are  highly overlooked and misunderstood in our modern day society. I think the lack of understanding allows those affected to become a “zombie” in a sense by being marginalized.

I’d like to keep developing the idea of what it means to be a “zombie” by tying it into the name of the class. I think that Death in the Digital Age is best embodied through Facebook’s “Remembering” feature. For those who are not aware this is a feature that allows for people’s Facebook profiles to remain online after they have passed. When one visits the deceased person’s profile there is a sign that reads “Remembering _______” with the blank space filled in by their name. As I am looking through several of these pages on my own Facebook account I realize that this too is a way that one can become a “zombie”. The deceased are no longer on this earth, yet their presences is still felt. We can see where they have been, what they have liked, and even what they looked like. Yet, they are gone. This is similar to how zombies  in the show are no longer living, yet continue to be present.

Facebook’s “Remembering” Feature

To a certain extent we can say that these Facebook profiles haunt us. We as friends of the deceased may not have asked to see the “Remembering” feature, yet it still there. We may never come across it, or may consistently encounter it. Regardless, the page exists and will trigger mixed feelings. Technology has allowed for all of us to become zombies once we have passed. Whether or not some of us approve of that is a question that should be brought forth. Should we consent to this feature? Should friends of the deceased be notified that this is happening and be asked if they are ok with viewing it in their feed? These are questions that should be discussed.

 

Zombies, the abject, and the idea of haunting in “Dead Set”

The most disturbing element of Dead Set was certainly the gore, at least in my experience. I’m not a horror fan, and thus turn my head or close my eyes during the inevitably violent moments of my favorite TV shows or movies. Watching Dead Set, a TV series with a pair of undoubtedly gory opening episodes, I began to wonder what the appeal of this horror was.

As Jefferey Jerome Cohen gets into in his article “Monster Culture (Seven Theses),” part of this horror has to do with the abject. According to Kristeva, the abject (in this case, the blood and guts of human bodies as zombies devour them, and the excrement of the survivors trapped in the house) is “tempting as it is condemned” (19).

This push and pull between attraction and disgust is obviously very relevant when explaining the appeal of the horror genre in general, especially violence and gore. The use of zombies plays into the idea of the abject quite effectively, as they are essentially the walking abject–humanoid figures completely devoid of humanity.

Claire, a former Big Brother employee, devours one of her victims. Source: Netflix

Another aspect of the zombies that I found interesting was the way in which they carry “haunting.” This occurred to me in the context of Claire and Kelly’s relationship. Shortly before the zombie apocalypse set in, Claire revealed that she had also slept with the man that Kelly cheated on her boyfriend with. Claire’s body now holds two sorts of haunting to Kelly: a reminder of the mistake she made in cheating on her boyfriend (she destroyed the zombie of the guy himself, which is interesting), and also the imminent haunting of death should Claire catch up to her. I’ll be interested to see how this zombie haunting continues as more people ostensibly succumb to zombiehood.

It’s Never About the Zombies … So Who Is It About?!

I tend to couch my admission that I’m a raging fan of The Walking Dead with “but it’s not about the zombies!” It’s never about the zombies. Once I realized this, I became much more receptive to watching and reading other works in the Zombie Apocalypse genre. Typically, works of zombie or living dead horror center on the humanity and relationships of the living characters. Zombies are horribly one-dimensional. Some are more frightening than others (seriously, fast zombies are the WORST), but ultimately they function more as props than as characters.

The real story emerges as we follow the living and their attempt to both survive and retain compassion for other living humans and a sense of right and wrong. We feel for the characters we meet as we come to appreciate their humanity in the face of so much gruesome and horrifying death. The best part of any zombie story is attaching ourselves to likable characters and watching their journey unfold as they struggle to survive.

A few of the survivors look on at a world turned upside down. Source: Channel4

So, what struck me as terribly odd in the first two episodes of Dead Set is how little I liked ANY of the characters. The members/participants of Big Brother are all presented as obnoxious. The producer is a giant jerk. Kelley is clearly supposed to be the object of most of our sympathy — but we find out quickly that she is cheating on her seemingly otherwise innocent (and adorable) boyfriend. So far, I do like the boyfriend (Rick), but he is a very minor character at this point.

I’m trying to understand what exactly the intent of the character development might be. Are we supposed to find the good in otherwise off-putting people in the face of disaster? Is the show remarking on the good of people even within the ugliest portrayals of humanity? Seriously, Dead Set — throw us a bone!

A product of her environment or a product of possession? Both.

The one question that continues to arise in the novel, and in my head as I read said novel, deals with the source of Marjorie’s actions. Is she possessed? Is she mentally ill? What could be causing her to act this way? We are told that Marjorie has confided in Merry that she is acting in this manner in order to keep the reality TV show going, so that they do not suffer financial hardship. I do not agree with her statement as my personal analysis guides me to believe that there are more factors at play. Marjorie’s actions are a combination of the environment that she is forced to deal with, and possession.

The hostile environment is extremely evident in the actions of Marjorie’s parents. Throughout the recent readings we see that the Mother has turned to alcohol and the Father becomes very violent. I believe the Father being sent to jail was a catalyst for the  violent seres of events  that occurred during the exorcism in chapter 22. There are times where young Merry attempts to bring the family together, yet her efforts are fruitless. Her mother pushes her away physically and emotionally, while the father channels his inner anger towards her. The family situation was never perfect, but I believe the worsening conditions have lead to more outbursts from Marjorie. I for one did not believe that Marjorie could cause physical pain, yet she did so in chapter 22. What were once “weird” actions emanating from a young girl are now acts that can be considered threatening to the lives around her.

 

The father is cuffed and taken to jail after attacking protesters outside of his house. This image is representative of the pent up or “jailed” anger that he has inside.

 

While Marjorie believes that she is doing good by “acting” for the camera, I believe that this is also contributing to the detrimental environment. Students at the school are posting mean sexual Instagram pictures while her sister is being bullied for the show. Marjorie, who up until a certain point had unmonitored access to her laptop, has access to this cyberbullying. She can see the comments that are being made by those who are seeing her on TV, which does not help her mental health. If Marjorie does have mental health problems, it is best to not publicly display it on television for the entertainment pleasures of others.

Cyberbullying is a real threat in our modern day society, and Marjorie is being subjected to it.

 

This brings me to my final point: Marjorie’s actions are also due to her being possessed. By what? At this point in the novel I am not entirely sure that we can pinpoint a specific answer. On one hand I believe that the possibility of her being possessed by a demon is plausible. The strength that she demonstrated while being tied down to the bed during the attempted exorcism is unnatural for a girl her age. Merry describes her as “standing up like she wasn’t tied down.” I also believe in the possibility of Marjorie having a mental illness. Mental illnesses develop at different ages, and they manifest themselves in certain methods. I have studied psychology before and see several symptoms of psychosis in Marjorie. The most evident being her consistent claim to “hear voices” in her head and her cries for help during the exorcism. I believe that one can be possessed by a mental illness, as one does not have control of their actions. Their autonomy may sometimes be out of their reach.

This reading has put forth a couple of questions that I feel are necessary to talk about before continuing with the novel. Does the unwillingness of some overzealous religious humans to comply with medical treatment occur often in our society, or societies around the world? How can parents be more aware of the symptoms of a mental illness? Why does Marjorie believe her dad is possessed?

The Yellow Wallpaper and A Head Full of Ghosts

“The Yellow Wallpaper” (1892), Charlotte Perkins Gilman via Wikipedia

In the opening pages of A Head Full of Ghosts, author Paul Tremblay invokes Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper,” a 19th-Century short story that grapples with the complicated themes of feminism, mental health and healthcare, and (possibly) evil spirits. The short story comes as the journal of a woman confined to a single yellow-wallpapered room and“treated” via rest cure for hysteria. However, due to the lack of stimulation required by the so-called cure (a solution prescribed especially to women for an obscenely gendered “disease”), the woman fixates on the yellow wallpaper, going as far as seeing several women trapped within it and eventually believing herself to number among them.

Interpretations of the short story differ greatly. Gilman talked about the semi-autobiographical elements of her story–namely, her own personal experience as a patient. Gilman was diagnosed with hysteria–a nervous disorder originally thought to stem from problems with the uterus–and was placed under the care of Dr. Silas Weir Mitchell. Mitchell would become the champion of the rest cure, which he hoped would cure this almost uniquely feminine issue with isolation, lack of activity, and lack of mental stimulation. Sounds like a dubious at best cure for mental illness like depression or bipolar disorder, right? Gilman thought as much, as she crafted this story to fight against the dismissive (and severely ineffective treatment) she was forced to endure.

Feminist critics have decided to shift their critical gaze away from the explicit topic of mental health and instead talk about how the story exemplifies the patriarchal dominance of  society, especially within the medical field. They note the extreme gendering of the events of the story, namely focusing on how the male-prescribed rest cure sought to “cure” the uniquely feminine condition of the protagonist with a level of stimulation and activity more suited to the supposedly simpler female mind. They then view the protagonist’s eventual insanity as a kind of victory over male dominance.

Others can choose to take the tale more literally as a ghost or horror story. Gilman writes with enough ambiguity to allow the chilling events of the story to be ascribed to ghosts or even possessive spirits. The room the protagonist is confined to is supposedly a former nursery, but there are numerous details about it that could indicate otherwise (bars on the windows, rings on the walls, nailed-down bed, and the eponymous yellow wallpaper). Additionally, the protagonist describes the room in oddly violent terms, and even indicates she feels something off about the house when she first moves there for the summer. And then there’s the ending, of course, which at best could point to ghost-induced insanity and at worst a case of genuine possession.

On that note, it seems best to turn back to Tremblay’s A Head Full of Ghosts. Given all this information, the epigraph, and the numerous references made so far (mainly in reference to the “confessional room”), I thought that Gilman’s short story at least deserved some kind of mention. The story’s themes certainly seem to inform Tremblay’s story up to this point (and I suspect will rear their heads again in the coming chapters too). We see the issue of mental health arise with poor Marjorie, who complains to Merry that her condition has been mishandled by parents, psychiatrist, and priests–everyone. Additionally, we see the feminist perspective with Karen Brissette/Merry’s analysis of the family’s TV series. And finally, we see an ambiguity  similar to that which Gilman created, raising doubts as to whether Marjorie suffers from schizophrenia or something much more sinister.

The descent into madness, as recorded by camera

Psychosis is a morbidly fascinating subject present throughout the genre of horror. What makes it so captivating might be the sickening display of otherworldliness that the mentally ill are capable of producing. Their actions are so irrational and nonsensical that they become the source of horror themselves–partly why word salad may be so creepy. We like to see ourselves in control, and seeing such behavior might induce the fear of losing this control, to succumbing to some of sort of dormant, even alien, influence.

However, the most popular horror feature of them all seems not to be the psychosis itself, but rather the process of losing one’s sanity. There is something about the ‘descent into madness’ that is even more fascinating. So many famous pieces of literature and art explore this journey. Famous examples in literature include Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” and various works of Edgar Allen Poe. This subject is even more popular in film, with movies such as The Shining (which itself was originally a novel) having a special place in the ‘inexplicably terrifying journey of watching an everyman turn insane’ category.

Jack Torrance of Kubrick’s The Shining, before and after his descent into madness. Photos courtesy of keywordsuggest.org and gamespot.com, respectively.

In Paul Tremblay’s A Head Full of Ghosts, we see young teenage Marjorie slowly fall victim to mental illness from the perspective of her young sister Merry. This is recorded not only by Merry’s early childhood memories but also a small digital camera that she receives from Ken, a friend on the set of the reality TV  show that preys on her family’s unfortunate predicament. There is a compelling juxtaposition of what Merry is able to see hear and what the camera is able to capture. While at times both Merry and the reader are left unsure of what exactly she has seen, the one occasion in which she shows what she recorded to Ken reveals solid truth. With Marjorie falling into what appear to be schizophrenic tendencies, it is difficult to take any part of Merry’s recollection as undistorted by time, outside influences, and even her own desires.

The digital camera obviously contrasts starkly to the organic, shifting nature of memory. However, according Merry she and her sister apparently manipulate it into ‘evidence’ that she is possessed. While the advent of digital technology and recording devices seems to beckon the doing away with drifting memory and bias, we instead see the opposite: digital technology has provided a means of influencing perspective that has become even more convincing than before.

 

How Do you Remember it? The Construction of Truth in “A Head Full of Ghosts”

In A Head Full of Ghosts, Paul Tremblay destabilizes the belief that there exists one version of reality, providing instead various conflicting accounts and retellings of one event to highlight the subjective and constructed nature of truth. When multiple “correct” versions of a situation exist, anything becomes possible; both logical and irrational explanations (mental illness versus a spirit possession) have equal authority. Horror is achieved through the realization that there are no limits, only different sides to the same story.

The concept of truth is less tangible and exact than we want to believe. Different versions blur together. Takemoto, Akio. Blurry People. 2015. Flickr. Web. 2 Feb. 2017.

The characters in A Head Full of Ghosts struggle to find the “true” story of Marjorie. Rachel makes it her mission to locate “An accurate account of what happened” (Tremblay 111) and Merry’s mother documents events in a red notebook (46). Merry grapples with this struggle for the “correct” version of events as well, questioning her memory each time it contradicts the accounts of those around her and the TV show’s interpretation.  Merry undermines the validity of her memories by acknowledging that they ““…were mixed together with what other people told [her] about what had happened, and [she] included pop culture and media”” as influences (Tremblay 112). She often hesitates as she recounts her experience, offering excuses each time her memory differs from recorded happenings including “misremembering” (Tremblay 72) and the possibility that she blocked out the trauma or even confused reenactment with reality (73). Self-doubt, amplified by the 15 years that have passed since the incident, cause Merry to falter in her conviction.

Merry’s hesitation introduces a central dilemma: what happens when we can’t remember and when our memory fails us? In his article “The Storyteller: Reflections on the Works of Nikolai Leskov,” Walter Benjamin describes memory as a “…tradition which passes a happening on from generation to generation” (Benjamin 371). However, in A Head Full of Ghosts, the memory of what happened to Marjorie is passed via technology—the camera and the tape recorder. This shift from human memory to technological storage removes the human responsibility of “…reproducing the story” through memory (Benjamin 370). Technology serves as a vault of memories and traumas that will never be fully processed or interpreted outside of their factual value as information or cheep entertainment.

It is perhaps more accurate to say that technology preserves rather than remembers. Memories are rooted in emotion, tied to the feelings experienced in the moment. Because they are tied to emotion, memories are physical experiences that allow us to relive a situation in the past. Technology, however, can’t capture feeling, only fact. For example, when Merry uses her video camera to capture Marjorie’s invasion of her room one night, she is disappointed re-watching it, noting, “It didn’t look as scary as I remember it” (Tremblay 149). The video is unable to address Merry’s fear and anger, and as a result, it’s literal depiction no longer represents the truth. Without Merry’s emotional response, the recording fails to capture the integrity of the event.

This limitation in technology’s “memory” is reminiscent of Black Mirror. In her grief, Martha finds solace in the thought that Ash can be forever preserved, his memory left intact. The fear of forgetting him is removed as a burden. However, not unlike humans, technology has a selective memory and we soon realize that the synthesized version of Ash is missing the very qualities that made him who he was when living. Just like the cameras of the reality TV show The Possession in Tremblay’s book, Marjorie and Ash are remembered through their exterior, public construction of themselves. This concept of remembrance circles us back to the Benjamin reading, which introduces the term to signify what we remember and preserve of a person when they are dead or gone. Benjamin uses the example of the “Man…who died at thirty-five [who] will appear to remembrance at every point in his life as a man who died at the age of thirty-five. In other words, the statement that makes no sense for real life becomes indisputable for remembered life” (Benjamin 373). In the context of A Head Full of Ghosts, the confusion and hesitation of the real-life trauma experienced by the Barrett family is distorted into a single, condensed and indisputable account of the event by the single lens of technology. This one incident in Marjorie’s fourteen years on earth becomes her entire essence and identity in her absence.

Works Cited:

“Be Right Back.” Black Mirror, season 2, episode 1,  Netflix. 

Benjamin, Walter, and Hannah Arendt. “The Storyteller: Reflections on the Works of Nikolai Leslov.” Illuminations. Trans. Harry Zohn. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1968. 83-109. Print.

Tremblay, Paul. A Head Full of Ghosts: A Novel. New York, NY: William Morrow, 2015. Print.

 

Managing and Creating Fear Via Technology

Chapter 17 of A Head Full of Ghosts was the most frightening chapter to me so far. I was especially struck by the suspense that is created leading up to the blanket scene in which Marjorie seemingly has a demonic episode (or perhaps it really is just a performance) and Merry captures it all on camera. While this was the most frightening moment in the book for me, Merry seemed to be handling the suspense fairly well, considering her circumstances. I wondered why this might be and recognized that throughout the scene she was managing the situation and her own experience by using her video camera as an intermediary.

Instead of experiencing the terror of the blanket scene firsthand, she watched it through the camera display, distancing herself from what was happening right in front her. This prompted me to ponder how else we go about managing fear through our use of technology. When I looked into it further I found that companies have found a way to use this tactic in reverse — using the camera to bring us closer to terror.

A ghost is presented just in front of the “Night Terrors” player through the screen of a smartphone. Source: Dailymail.co.uk

A new game, called “Night Terrors,” uses the camera on your smartphone in conjunction with the accelerometer and GPS to create a map of your house and overlay horrific images of demons and zombies into the comfort of your own home. This augmented reality video game uses algorithms to configure the dimensions of your house and then to place monsters and ghosts on the screen as if they are standing in front of the player. Coupled with surround sound headphones that make it seem as if floorboards are creaking or someone is breathing right behind you, it could be quite the fright!

How else have we intentionally designed technology to mediate or fuel our fear?

From Scared to Sympathetic

As I have continued reading A Head Full of Ghosts, the evolution of Marjorie’s schizophrenia constantly changes how I view the horror in the book. Throughout the story, Marjorie has been the cause of the majority of the terrifying events but the lens through which I view these has shifted from fear to pity. My perspective shifted in chapter 16, simultaneously with Merry’s view of her sister, when Marjorie explains, “I’ve been faking it… What do you mean why?… then I started hearing the voices, stress induced probably, yeah, but still it sort of freaked me out… I decided I’d just keep pushing it, see how far I could go… You guys should be thanking me. I saved the house. I saved us, all of us, and I’m going to make us famous” (124-25).

As artist Louis Wain’s schizophrenia progressed, the image of a cat becomes more difficult to discern.

Marjorie’s elaborate story comes across as fake and her pretense of control makes Merry realize she “was afraid for her instead of being afraid of her” (125). Merry’s pity humanizes Marjorie. Marjorie is no longer some wild animal, lurking around the house, whose behavior is erratic and unsettling (to say the least). Now that she has talked about her behavior and has some memory and understanding of the damage, Marjorie is elevated from her status as a rabid, mindless, demon-possessed monster to a human recognizing her behavior as her own (not the act of a demon). As readers, we can now evaluate future scenes and recall previous scenes and question how Marjorie’s strange behavior is influenced in combination by her schizophrenia, her own theatrics, and her own fears. Terrifying as reading these scenes may be, imagining being Marjorie is much more painful.