Screen to Scream: North American Lake Monsters and Monsterland

 Some people prefer their horror to be all about extremes, visceral, gory, taboo-breaking extremes. More like heavy metal concerts from the back of Halloween stores, this view of horror, often pegged into the splatterpunk or extreme horror genres, wants to go right for the reader’s jugular or take a sledgehammer to the reader’s brainpan. Those new to horror might even think that this extreme horror encapsulates all of horror, but horror, like other genres, is a spectrum. One of the subtle differences between horror subgenres is the level of violence. There is actually some horror that relies not on dismemberment but disquiet. Disquiet horror relies more on making the reader uncomfortable rather than outright offending their sensibilities. If splatterpunk is heavy metal, then disquiet horror is classical music where the violin strings are the reader’s taut nerve endings. Writer Nathan Ballingrud may be one those writers whose name will become synonymous with disquiet horror, particularly since he has not only a collection of short stories, North American Lake Monsters, that all feature these kinds of slow burn stories, but this collection has also influenced a series on Hulu called Monsterland.

Monsterland is a unique limited series on Hulu in that it’s an anthology series. There are eight unique supernatural horror stories, each with a title denoting a particular US city. Some of those stories are even connected, particularly those that were created by Ballingrud for the series. So at least some of the stories in this series all share one story universe, a universe where mermaids are both an amazing catch and an omen of doom and where getting away from your problems is as easy as slipping off your skin, metaphorically and literally. In Ballingrud’s horror universe, these cities can be just as much of a character as the people who inhabit them, particularly those that take place in Louisiana. Much like in the Hulu movie Wounds, which is also based on Ballingrud's work, New Orleans is both vibrant and dark and as distinctive from other cities as the monsters, both human and supernatural, are distinctive from their victims.

The stories in North American Lake Monsters have some differences from Monsterland, even those that directly inspired specific episodes. Readers looking for some great examples of quiet horror should experience both the book and the series. Reading the fiction that inspired them, the supernatural monsters in this world often pale in evil to the all too human ones, and that can be more horrifying. At least, a vampire or skin-wearing monster is evil because that is its nature, specifically made to terrorize humanity. Humans being terrible to each other destroys the illusion that we are intrinsically better than any evil we will face. The characters in Ballingrud’s fiction voice some dark ideas and make terrible decisions that seem okay in the short term. In other words, they’re allowed to be just human enough to move down the slippery slope into depravity. With the goal of quiet horror being to make the reader uncomfortable, perhaps even nauseous from the circumstances it described, Nathan Ballingrud is set to corner the market on quiet horror.

Have You Read This? The Children of Red Peak by Craig DiLouie

 

People might say horror and religion go well together (particularly among atheist and/or agnostic horror fans), but I personally feel that such a statement is too reductive. When religion is brought into horror as a horrific element, it is often more about fanaticism. Sure, in the Bible, Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son Isaac because God told him to, a parable about loyalty to God, but if Abraham were to sacrifice his son today, Abraham might be not only the subject of a true crime podcast but an example of the dangers of blind obedience. When does faith become dangerous? When does God, or a god, demand too much of us mortals? Such crises of faith, liberally sprinkled with some human trauma, are explored in Craig DiLouie’s novel The Children of Red Peak.

The story begins with a mystery. In the mid aughts, the Family of the Living Spirit, led to Red Peak by the charismatic Reverend Peale, vanish off the face of the earth. A few of their children survive and grow into adulthood, but they are also burdened with trauma, trauma that has defined their adult lives. David works to get people out of cults, but he is himself trapped by his trauma. Deacon is a musician that seeks to use music to express his trauma as well as keep the psychic wound fresh. Beth is a psychologist who helps others, but all the self-medication and theories of the mind leave her wanting. Emily simply decided to stop fighting, and it is the suicide and subsequent funeral that brings the survivors together to try and put the horrors of Red Peak behind them.

The narrative of the story moves back and forth between the past and present. Readers will see how David and his family enter the Family, experience in graphic detail the events at Red Peak, and journey with the survivors as they all try to discover the mystery. DiLouie moves back and forth between past and present, moving among multiple survivor’s points of view, but readers can still follow the thread as well as the themes of faith, trauma, and the daunting meaning of existence. It would be one thing if this was just about some delusional cultists who were led down a dark path, but some of the best horror in this novel comes from DiLouie asking what if those cultists who committed horrific acts in the name of a deity were right? This is definitely a novel for those who like their horror existential, but it may be a surprise gut punch for those simply looking for a deep dive into the dangers of groupthink.