I guess it takes a lot to scare me

I remember being scared the living daylight out of me, by a children's horror book (around 26 pages, big font). I believe it was a ghost story. I was already a bit scared through the reading, but since I thought my mum was also in the room, sitting in the couch, I sort of kept reading. Then a couple of pages further I realised that mum had said to me that she needed to see another patient (she's a doc) a few pages back. I was alone and it was getting dark. But still I kept reading, albeit a little less secure. And then it happened:
The book had a drawing in it. 15 pages of nothing, no graphic cover and all of a sudden, I turned the page and saw something glaring at me!:eek:
I waited until morning before I could bring myself into turning the page again and even then, my heart skipped a few beats until I was certain that it was just a drawing. Somewhere in the depts of chronicles, there is a long forgotten thread of horror paintings. You really don't want to check it out.
I'm 100% positive that I won't check it out. If anyone does revive the thread, make sure to post enough warnings, it's something children should see.
 
I think horror films have definitely stolen the thunder of written stories; images are so much more immediate than words, you will never get the same visceral response to a book. Agree with earlier posters that a book delivers a different quality of scare, more subtle, and you have to cooperate with it (by reading it in the right mood etc).

The most frightening book I have read (although I was a child at the time) is Naomi's Room by Jonathan Aycliffe. It's a traditional style ghost story, but it is the most evil and threatening ghost I have ever encountered in my reading! I found it genuinely chilling, and many years later I have never re-read it!
 
I think horror films have definitely stolen the thunder of written stories; images are so much more immediate than words, you will never get the same visceral response to a book. Agree with earlier posters that a book delivers a different quality of scare, more subtle, and you have to cooperate with it (by reading it in the right mood etc).

The most frightening book I have read (although I was a child at the time) is Naomi's Room by Jonathan Aycliffe. It's a traditional style ghost story, but it is the most evil and threatening ghost I have ever encountered in my reading! I found it genuinely chilling, and many years later I have never re-read it!


The same with movies only a great scary movie can scare you.


I think its the other way around. If a movie is done badly visually then it cant scare you no matter messsed and scare thing you see on the screen.

While a good or even a decent written horror story can scare you even more cause of your imagination. Its your mind who makes sure what you see in you inner eye when you read.
 
I think horror films have definitely stolen the thunder of written stories; images are so much more immediate than words, you will never get the same visceral response to a book. Agree with earlier posters that a book delivers a different quality of scare, more subtle, and you have to cooperate with it (by reading it in the right mood etc).

The most frightening book I have read (although I was a child at the time) is Naomi's Room by Jonathan Aycliffe. It's a traditional style ghost story, but it is the most evil and threatening ghost I have ever encountered in my reading! I found it genuinely chilling, and many years later I have never re-read it!

Again, I have to question whether we're talking about genuine fear here, or startlement, shock, or repulsion. I won't argue that film images can't inspire genuine fear, unsettlement, terror, etc., but that they are so terribly few. In order to truly get under the skin, it has to do more than have an immediate, momentary impact; it has to hit on many levels, and to continue to haunt and resonate, to displace one's comfort in a more than momentary sense. After all, the immediate visceral reaction of such an image may be more powerful for a moment, but written weird work can continue to grow -- both with each reading, and with the subtlety of concepts that question one's definition of reality (even if on very nuanced levels); thus allowing the written form to be both more powerful and more genuinely disturbing on more levels in the long run. This, in turn, is because (as Connavar notes) it taps into the reader's own imagination, which is nearly always going to be much more capable of conjuring up personally frightening things than any special effects or camera crew, and also because reading is a (largely) solitary act, allowing what is there to soak in deeper; movies are, by their nature, an "art-by-committee" and therefore more diffuse in their overall impact.

Of course, with the written form, we're only talking the top rank of writers here; the ones who don't follow trends or formula, but strike out on their own and bring something intensely personal (albeit refined, broadened, and expanded based upon their experiences with and observations of others) and meaningful to their work, not the "mince-pie dreams" (as Lovecraft phrased it) of the majority of writers in any field....
 
The same with movies only a great scary movie can scare you.


I think its the other way around. If a movie is done badly visually then it cant scare you no matter messsed and scare thing you see on the screen.

While a good or even a decent written horror story can scare you even more cause of your imagination. Its your mind who makes sure what you see in you inner eye when you read.

I agree with your point about horror films; if the visuals are bad then it will be disappointing, or even humourous. But when the visuals are done well, it can make you shudder and want to look away. I think the girl in The Ring did that for a lot of jaded fans of Western horror movies. Because the imagery was so unfamiliar it was shocking and horrible. But visuals can only be shocking on the first few exposures, then you get used to it.

My point with written horror stories is that it's a different kind of fear. It's not so immediate and jolting as a film scare. As you say reading a story engages your mind's eye more than watching a film does, so if a book scares you it has probably tapped into something quite deep.

But visual images will always be a shortcut to provoking fear, and will always be more immediate than words.
 
Again, I have to question whether we're talking about genuine fear here, or startlement, shock, or repulsion. I won't argue that film images can't inspire genuine fear, unsettlement, terror, etc., but that they are so terribly few. In order to truly get under the skin, it has to do more than have an immediate, momentary impact; it has to hit on many levels, and to continue to haunt and resonate, to displace one's comfort in a more than momentary sense. After all, the immediate visceral reaction of such an image may be more powerful for a moment, but written weird work can continue to grow -- both with each reading, and with the subtlety of concepts that question one's definition of reality (even if on very nuanced levels); thus allowing the written form to be both more powerful and more genuinely disturbing on more levels in the long run. This, in turn, is because (as Connavar notes) it taps into the reader's own imagination, which is nearly always going to be much more capable of conjuring up personally frightening things than any special effects or camera crew, and also because reading is a (largely) solitary act, allowing what is there to soak in deeper; movies are, by their nature, an "art-by-committee" and therefore more diffuse in their overall impact.

Of course, with the written form, we're only talking the top rank of writers here; the ones who don't follow trends or formula, but strike out on their own and bring something intensely personal (albeit refined, broadened, and expanded based upon their experiences with and observations of others) and meaningful to their work, not the "mince-pie dreams" (as Lovecraft phrased it) of the majority of writers in any field....

True horror lasts beyond the initial shock of a gruesome or unexpected image. A frightening image in a horror film may not amount to much more than someone leaping out at you and shouting "boo!".

Written stories are ultimately more disturbing because they act on your imagination, and the effect lasts much longer than the split second of shock you get from a "jumpy moment" in a film.

That is my understanding of your argument - visual images only shock, written words work on a deeper level.

But I would say that you can't seperate words from visual images. Whenever you read something you picture it in your mind's eye. I'm sure you will agree.

I would also say that you can't seperate visual imagery from all the things it implies. For example, in the film The Grudge, at one point the ghost of a young woman appears. She has a very gruesome appearance (her lower jaw has been ripped off) and that is very disturbing (frightening even); but what really preyed on my mind was what was unseen, the way in which this woman must have been killed, and the suffering she must have undergone (this matters because in the film we meet this character briefly while she was alive, and she seems quite likeable). And also I was disturbed thinking about what had done this to her. So this one gruesome image has done much more than make me jump.

A visual image can activate your imagination, just as your imagination can generate images.
 
I have great difficulty watching suffering. In Braveheart I couldn't watch the part where he was going to be hung, drawn and quartered, even though I knew they wouldn't actually show such quartering. In 1984 I couldn't stand the part where they torture him and he goes in Room 101. On a movie review show I saw just half a minute of Hostel - a suspensful scene that they could get away showing on prime time tv - and literally felt sick.

So I guess then, that fear for me is based on empathy, if someone is really scared in a film I find it hard to just deal with it by knowing its not real, and I get scared myself.
 
I have great difficulty watching suffering. In Braveheart I couldn't watch the part where he was going to be hung, drawn and quartered, even though I knew they wouldn't actually show such quartering. In 1984 I couldn't stand the part where they torture him and he goes in Room 101. On a movie review show I saw just half a minute of Hostel - a suspensful scene that they could get away showing on prime time tv - and literally felt sick.

So I guess then, that fear for me is based on empathy, if someone is really scared in a film I find it hard to just deal with it by knowing its not real, and I get scared myself.

I find parts of 1984 almost unbearable (to read or watch), and yet I can watch Hostel and not flinch. I guess that demonstrates that George Orwell is an enormously skilled writer who makes you care about his characters and the terribly bleak world they live in, and Eli Roth...isn't!!!

But I say fair play to Roth who tries to make honest shockers. Cabin Fever is a very good horror movie, and even Hostel has some eerie moments.
 
One of the reviewers on that movie show gave Hostel no stars because it was too repulsive to even watch.

Most critics look down their nose at horror. More fool them, because they are overlooking some of the great writing and film making out there.

By the way, I am not trying to argue that Hostel is great film making, just that most critics will dismiss it without looking at it.

A lot of all time great movie lists will feature films like The Exorcist, Rosemary's Baby, The Shining, yet still try to make out horror is some kind of niche interest that isn't true "art".

So having dark elements to a story that tell truths about human nature is somehow aesthetically unacceptable. It's a good thing no one told Shakespeare that before he wrote Macbeth, or most of his tragedies.
 
True horror lasts beyond the initial shock of a gruesome or unexpected image. A frightening image in a horror film may not amount to much more than someone leaping out at you and shouting "boo!".

No, not always, by any means; but I'd say a good 90-95% of the time, this is the case. As for your argument about the significance or symbolism of an image -- I'd agree with the filmic part of your argument, but (again), it's more of a rara avis rather than the norm; while there is a much richer tradition of such symbols being used in the literature of horror (think of Bierce, for instance, who plays on not only the horrific and pathetc aspects but the homely and even humorous -- either grotesquely or simply gallows humor, in either case, adding to the discomfort because one is finding such horrific things, on some level, funny and horrific at the same time -- among other simultaneous layers, through very carefully chosen phrasing)... and they also have more of an ability to play on even more levels, not only because of the image itself, but because of the language in which they are conveyed -- the onomatopoeic sound of certain words, the varying ways in which such a description may be stated, allowing for (at times) vastly different impacts from the same image conveyed, etc. This is something film can seldom (not never, but very, very seldom) do.

However, it's more than just this, and this is why I draw a distinction between that which is based on an immediate, visceral reaction (which tends to last moments) and that which relies on a perhaps slower-acting but more pervasive response; why I'm attempting to ascertain how much, when people talk about "being scared", is more the sort of starting, jumping, or momentary adrenaline jolt, and how much they are meaning something that truly gets in there and disturbs your equilibrium on a more lasting level, staying with you, giving you "the creeps" repeatedly, making you feel the atmosphere of that veil between the normal, sane world and the truly frightening realm of the unknown getting terribly thin. Yes, there are movies that can do this, but they are few and far between; and generally, if they manage to hit that chord, the impact gets less and less with each viewing; while with the best literature of that achieves this, the impact grows with each reading, as the implications continue to burgeon and spread. This is also a part it playing on your imagination, and (again, generally speaking) in a way that film is simply very seldom able to do.

So... what are we talking about when we say something "scares" us? Which emotion are we describing when we use that rather vague and malleable word...?
 
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I respect your opinion, you are clearly a scholar of the genre. Please indulge me if I seem to stray off topic in responding.

Critics have tried to characterise the experience of horror as being divisible into different categories; revulsion is an emotional state that is instinctively evoked by a class of visual images (usually having to do with death and decay).
Terror must be evoked more subtlely; the frightening thing is not shown, but is suggested; the reader fills in the details themself.

I think all fear responses are on a continuum, not seperate things. Unease is at the low intensity end, shuddering horror at the other. Because the written word takes time to process the fear is always at some remove; you know you are not under any threat. When you watch a horror movie, rationally you know the threat isn't real, but because you are seeing an image there is not the same barrier there.

Language devices like onomatopoeia etc may be nice tricks with words but they can't deepen a fear experience. You could read a beautifully crafted story about being run down by a car. The writer could spend a long time describing the sensory reality, creating a mood of impending doom etc. None of would be as scary as stepping into the road and narrowly avoiding being hit by a car.
 
I think it was Michael Leunig who said that the whole human experience comes down to two things:

Hope and fear.

I don't think it is possible to reduce human experience to 2 things. If you could, they would be more fundamental than hope and fear.

It would have to be more basic. Perhaps hungry/full v.s. cold/warm?
 
But isn't that just the animal experience?

Are hope and fear the two things in Donnie Darko that the teacher asks the students to put situations between on a scale? And Donnie Darko tells her to stick it?
 
What other kind of experience are we supposed to have?
Donnie Darko was right.
 
Well I think its a fact that the human experience is a bit more than the animal experience ALTHOUGH in a way you could boil down all the things we do to just more sophisticated versions of what animals do. OR you could boil down all the things that motivate us to hope and fear.

Still, Donnie Darko is awesome.
 
Check out Joe R. Lansdale.

Some of his stuff creeps me the hell out. Freezer Burn, The Bottoms, Incident on and off a Mountain Road, Drive-in Date (one of the most frightening things I've ever read), and the list goes on. Lansdale knows horror, true, gut wrenching, human-horror, better than most.

Ray Bradybury's October Country also contains some creepy tales.

Or, definitely check out Thomas Ligotti, if this guy's work doesn't scare you, nothing will.

THOMAS LIGOTTI ONLINE

His stuff is really hard to find, but worth it. Also, try to check out the audio albums he's done with Current 93. Man, some of this **** is downright hellish.
 
I respect your opinion, you are clearly a scholar of the genre. Please indulge me if I seem to stray off topic in responding.

Critics have tried to characterise the experience of horror as being divisible into different categories; revulsion is an emotional state that is instinctively evoked by a class of visual images (usually having to do with death and decay).
Terror must be evoked more subtlely; the frightening thing is not shown, but is suggested; the reader fills in the details themself.

I think all fear responses are on a continuum, not seperate things. Unease is at the low intensity end, shuddering horror at the other. Because the written word takes time to process the fear is always at some remove; you know you are not under any threat. When you watch a horror movie, rationally you know the threat isn't real, but because you are seeing an image there is not the same barrier there.

Language devices like onomatopoeia etc may be nice tricks with words but they can't deepen a fear experience. You could read a beautifully crafted story about being run down by a car. The writer could spend a long time describing the sensory reality, creating a mood of impending doom etc. None of would be as scary as stepping into the road and narrowly avoiding being hit by a car.

Interesting and thoughtful post... but I do have some argument with some of your thoughts here. First: all human emotion is part of a continuum, which is why we almost never experience a single pure emotion, but it is nearly always mixed and mingled with many others. As for repulsion -- though having an element of fear in its makeup (especially when dealing with images of or contact with death, the dead, decay, etc., as on some level we know -- though we reject on a basic emotional level -- this is how we too will someday be), it is much more allied to repugnance and disgust, much less with fear and terror. This, too, is why there is a strong distinction between horror and terror: one deals much more with the physical end of the scale, while the other deals with the emotional/spiritual (I'm using the term in its psychological, rather than religious, sense, here). To paraphrase Varma: One is catching the whiff of death, the other is stumbling upon a corpse.

(Parenthetically, I've had the experience of "stumbling" upon, or discovering, a corpse, and I'd say this is true. While I had nightmares about it for some time afterward, this was because of the repulsion, disgust, and sheer nastiness of it -- mixed with pity and grief, as I'd known this person, not well, but known him for some months; it was horrific, but not terrific, it didn't "scare" me more than momentarily, nor did it give me the feeling of a violation of what I understood as reality, which is what truly lies at the base of genuine fear. That which is unknown, or which strikes a blow at our understanding of how the universe works on an emotional as well as intellectual level, is invariably more terrifying than anything which represents -- even symbolically -- a mere physical threat, or expansion or enhancement of such a threat, because while the latter threatens our physical existence -- something we all face at different times in our lives -- the former, on some level, threatens the integrity of our own identity by displacing our understanding of reality.)

As for the comment on onomatopoeia and such being "nice tricks" -- they are far more than that. Onomatopoeia perhaps especially, is much more powerful by its very nature, the very sound of the word having much to do with our conception of what it labels, therefore tying in much more intensely not only to our depiction of that thing, but its various layers of meaning for us. Therefore it is much, much more intense in its effect than any prosaic description could ever be, and often much more so than any visual image can be on a sustained level. Something similar is at work with all the other techniques, because they do not have any single reading, but shift and flow (within certain limits), allowing for a more powerful and sustainable effect.

And, again parenthetically, your analogy of the story of being run down by a car... from someone who had such an experience (at a very young age: 5), no tale is going to capture that sensory experience completely; but I'd say that a skilled verbal description is going to be one hell of a lot more powerful than any visual image of such as far as recalling those feelings and experiences, and hitting at an emotional level of fear; while the visual images would evoke repulsion, disgust, and pity or horror.

(You know, for someone who feels he lives a rather secluded, quiet life, when I get into discussions like this and end up calling on my own experience, I've had some damn bizarre things happen in my life!!!)
 
Interesting and thoughtful post... but I do have some argument with some of your thoughts here. First: all human emotion is part of a continuum, which is why we almost never experience a single pure emotion, but it is nearly always mixed and mingled with many others. As for repulsion -- though having an element of fear in its makeup (especially when dealing with images of or contact with death, the dead, decay, etc., as on some level we know -- though we reject on a basic emotional level -- this is how we too will someday be), it is much more allied to repugnance and disgust, much less with fear and terror. This, too, is why there is a strong distinction between horror and terror: one deals much more with the physical end of the scale, while the other deals with the emotional/spiritual (I'm using the term in its psychological, rather than religious, sense, here). To paraphrase Varma: One is catching the whiff of death, the other is stumbling upon a corpse.

(Parenthetically, I've had the experience of "stumbling" upon, or discovering, a corpse, and I'd say this is true. While I had nightmares about it for some time afterward, this was because of the repulsion, disgust, and sheer nastiness of it -- mixed with pity and grief, as I'd known this person, not well, but known him for some months; it was horrific, but not terrific, it didn't "scare" me more than momentarily, nor did it give me the feeling of a violation of what I understood as reality, which is what truly lies at the base of genuine fear. That which is unknown, or which strikes a blow at our understanding of how the universe works on an emotional as well as intellectual level, is invariably more terrifying than anything which represents -- even symbolically -- a mere physical threat, or expansion or enhancement of such a threat, because while the latter threatens our physical existence -- something we all face at different times in our lives -- the former, on some level, threatens the integrity of our own identity by displacing our understanding of reality.)

I think we agree that fear is aversion to a threat. Threats to physical safety are more immediate and provoke a bodily response (adrenaline, speeded up heart rate etc). Threats to your worldview or understanding of the world primarily engage thought processes. Or in other words, we could call them horror and terror.

But as I said before I think horror and terror are just points on the general continuum of fear and anxiety, and it isn't really useful to treat them as arising from seperate proecesses and having seperate causes. When something strikes us as horrific it isn't a purely physical response; it seems horrific only because we recognise at a conceptual level it is something to be avoided. Likewise something terrific will eventually cause a physical response.

I think the real distinction between horror and terror is just that one is a fear that occurs almost instantaneously and the other is more delayed.

At this point I am not sure if we are in agrement or disagreement, to be honest!
 

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