Commentary: The Beauty of the Grotesque

Mention that you are both Christian and a fan of horror, and folks often react with shock.  Eyes widen,  jaws drop, and all that lovely stuff.

   Yup, that's the look.

Now maybe some small part of this has to do with the fact that horror and gratuitous nudity are often thought to go hand in hand.  Yes, if I had a dollar for every time I've explained, "But I don't like that part," I'd have...well, about 10 dollars or so, since I'm not constantly revealing my love of horror to new people who don't already know that, but you know what I mean:  That some people think that if you like a genre or a movie, you must like everything that goes with it, and obviously in modern horror there are certain things, whether it's racy sex or just bitter and cynical implications, that don't exactly scream "Christian."

But I think that this suspicion of Christians enjoying horror runs deeper than that, that there is something more basic behind the shock people feel if a devoutly religious movie goer reveals a love of watching monsters and maniacs chasing their prey (um, fictionally, of course).    It's simple.  People wonder what business Christians, with our talk of love and light, have watching the horror genre, which is not exactly known for its wealth of sunshine and kittens; "What fellowship has darkness with light?" and all that.  

Now, I could respond that some horror works have inspirational themes, that there is artistic merit and beauty to the cinematography, or that certain rare films reach farther than scares and into the world of philosophy and "meaning of life" statements.  That's all true; but let's be honest.  Most horror fans, even among Christians, enjoy even those stories or movies that are derivative, dark, or make no particular statement at all.  

How can we justify this? 

Because scary stories and gritty tales are an expression of our sense that God doesn't make mistakes.  

Wait, what?!

Okay, let me explain with an anecdote.  Once upon a time, there was a fellow (me, in case you're wondering) who was browsing a religious forum.  He clicked on a topic that seemed pleasant enough, about the "beauty of God's creation," where people were free to talk about how the existence of cute critters and beautiful scenery reinforces the belief in God.  Then, into this pleasant stroll through cyberspace, wandered a wise guy who posted a giant picture of a huge tarantula, like right up in its big-and-clearly-ticked-off-about-to-eat-you grill, evidently taken at point blank range by a brave, brave photographer who didn't fear getting his hands bitten off.  

The wise guy's argument, of course, was "Well then how do you explain things like this?"  Fortunately, someone else in the conversation, after giving Mr. Wise Guy a well-deserved reprimand on the part of all the arachnophobes (no, he didn't give a warning before the picture, and yes, he was probably mean and sadistic and giggling with glee on the other end of cyberspace), said that yes, in its own way, even that was beautiful.  And that is what horror is all about:  Recognizing the beauty of the things that give us the heebie jeebies, and celebrating the existence of all that goes bump in the night...because, even if things like gargantuan spiders and fish with faces straight out of an H. P. Lovecraft story are the cause of sleepless nights and endless paranoia, some part of us recognizes that it's good that they exist.  Somehow, even if we don't like scary things, God created them, and some part of the human person recognizes that they "fit" into this world.  

True enough, there are ugly things in horror stories that we shouldn't celebrate literally.  Murder, witchcraft, and man's inhumanity to man are obviously not God's creations, and are results of the Fall that we should mourn, not celebrate.  And horror that delves rather explicitly into these things should probably be in the "has a redeeming or at least meaningful message" category.  But it's just as true that in many horror films, even the human maniacs are more like forces of nature than evil people.  Jason Vorhees is more of an animal in human form, than a man.  The killers in Dario Argento's vintage films are often not even shown until the end, further detaching them from humanity.  

So no matter whether the scary thing in a movie or book is a human or a monster, they often represent our fears of scary things that happen naturally:  Beasts and abominable looking nasties that make you wonder if God Himself doesn't like telling scary stories, and he titles them "hellgrammites" and "angler fish", etc. etc.  Horror brings us face to face, in a "safe" way, with the fact that on some level we like the thrill that comes from knowing scary things are out there.  It makes us feel more alive somehow.  It makes the world more interesting.  In other words, we recognize the "beauty" of them.  It's a different kind of beauty than, say, rainbows and prairies, but it's there in its own way.  In fact, the very people who insist that Christians shouldn't enjoy scary things are only agreeing with that internet wise guy who thought the existence of scary, "ugly" things is incompatible with the existence of a good God.

So the next time you hear someone say:  "I just don't see why a Christian would enjoy watching something dark like horror," you can think to yourself "I just don't see how a Christian could think that God messed up when He made the dark and scary things" and enjoy your movie guilt free.  And then, go hug a puppy or something to fend off the nightmares.  Or not...if you're brave enough...or scared of puppies.