What Lovecraft Taught Me About Fear
H.P. Lovecraft is one of my favorite authors of horror, as is the case for most horror admirers. There’s something about the stories he created that sticks in your psyche. He tried to put his thinking and methodology down on paper when he wrote “Supernatural Horror in Literature”, an essay that explores his concepts of horror. I read this ages ago, and it stuck with me ever since, just as effectively as his fictional works. I want to explore three main topics he introduced and how they helped me with my own horror writing.
First, Lovecraft’s central argument is that fear of the unknown is mankind’s oldest and strongest emotion. It isn’t something we fabricated using stories and literature, but something more primitive, hardwired into our brain from our ancestors. When we were hunters and gatherers, living nomadically, we lived in a dangerous environment. All the essentials of survivability, such as shelter, nutrition, sleep, were never a guarantee. We couldn’t fully understand the world around us, so we had to create a mechanism to adapt and survive.
Imagine yourself with a limited understanding of the world around you. You are taking shelter in a forest, where it is nighttime, and the only source of light is the bonfire in the middle of the community, and the faint glow of the stars and moon above. As your family and community sleep, you hear something in the darkness, rustling in the bushes. You hear noises, noises you’ve never heard before. Fear begins to creep in.
This fear is what kept us alive. It sharpens our senses, floods our blood with adrenaline, and forces our bodies into a state of readiness before our minds have caught up. Without it, our predators close the distance while we stand still. We are here today because our ancestors were afraid, because fear made them fast, made them careful, made them run. We survived being prey because something in us refused to be eaten.
However, even though we no longer live in that environment, that wiring in our brain persists, even after thousands of years in our modern environment. We fear and prepare for the unknown danger that lurks. Horror stories are a way to tap into that psyche and bring out this innate instinct.
Now, there are different types of horror Lovecraft distinguishes, specifically cosmic fear and physical fear. He demonstrates a sharp distinction between gruesome or physical horror, such as violence and gore, and, what he calls cosmic fear. Cosmic fear, which is the genre Lovecraft mainly wrote, consists of the unsettling sense that the laws of nature are being suspended and that something vaster and indifferent exists beyond our comprehension. I would say Lovecraft thought the physical horror was shallow, whereas cosmic horror was more powerful and unsettling.
My interpretation is that physical fear is tied to our fear of our own mortality. Death is something most people fear and avoid thinking about. Seeing violence and gore reminds us of our own impermanence. We also attach great significance to our bodies and our right to not be mutilated like an animal. Gore and violence also remind us of that promise humanity has decided to abide by, under certain circumstances, of course.
That said, cosmic horror makes us realize something profounder. Humanity gives great importance on itself and its intelligence. The fact that we dominate the world contributes to this idea that we are on top of the pyramid in most aspects of reality. Nevertheless, cosmic horror explores concepts beyond our understanding but also introduces powers that largely overshadow our own existence. The idea of something treating us so insignificantly as we treat, say, an ant, terrifies us. That fear, of not understanding or knowing, is unsettling, and will keep someone awake at night.
Lastly, the essay starts with the following line: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.” As you can see with the previous points, it all comes down to the unknown; humans have difficulties with not knowing or understanding. So, Lovecraft gives advice, which I’ve adopted as my philosophy for writing horror: the unknown must remain unknown.
Most good horror stories keep the mystery unresolved. Who, what, and why are all speculative. This is what activates our survival mind and floods us with fear. If we don’t understand someone or something, the plethora of possibilities presents itself, and the adrenaline we need to deal with it fills our veins. Understanding dissipates the fear, and it becomes a problem to solve. Back to the example of our ancestors in the forest. They hear an unusual noise in the forest and it could be anything, even something they’ve never faced before. But, once they see it, say a lion, the fear dissipates, and they use their logical minds to execute the usual strategy to defend against the lion.
This is why I try my best to leave a lingering mystery of the unknown in my stories. There is never full understanding or resolution, leaving an unsettling feeling. So, when readers think back on the story, their minds wander into the dark on their own, reaching for answers they won’t find, and dreading what they might.
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