Academic literature on the topic 'Horror tales, American – History and criticism'

Analysis and interpretation of the short stories by Indonesian female writer Intan Paramaditha (Intan Paramaditha, born in 1979) make it possible to understand that her writing occupies a special niche in the modern Indonesian literary paradigm. Paramaditha’s feminist texts are disguised as horror stories with settings in contemporary Indonesia. The article examines five short stories (“Spinner of Darkness” (Pemintal Kegelapan), “Vampire” (Vampir), “Polaroid’s Mystery” (Misteri Polaroid), “The Blind Woman without a Toe” (Perempuan Buta tanpa Ibu Jari), and “The Obsessive Twist” (Goyang Penasaran)). Using the intertextual method, it was possible to prove the gothic poetics of these literary works. The short stories contain the mosaic of folklore-mythological motives from the Malay Archipelago, Biblical and Quranic narratives, as well as European fairy tales and allusions to American horror fiction and horror films. Her prose is built upon some borrowed European literary forms for expression of authentic Indonesian content. The social themes are intertwined with feminist criticism that is presented as a Kitsch of the Indonesian mass culture. In “The Obsessive Twist” the main conflict is focused on the heated debates on sexuality, politics, violence, and religion. The feminist agenda of her prose is contrasted with the turn of contemporary Indonesia towards a Muslim patriarchal society. Paramaditha’s works represent a unique product of West-East-synthesis aimed not only at the Indonesian, but also the global audience.

This article uses a critical framework that draws on the Gothic carnival, children’s Gothic, and Female Gothic to analyse the understudied spooky stories of British comics. It begins by surveying the emergence of short-form horror in American and British comics from the 1950s onwards, which evolved into a particular type of girls’ weekly tale: the ‘Strange Story.’ It then examines the way that the British mystery title Misty (IPC, 1978–80) developed this template in its single stories. This focuses on four key attributes: the directive role of a host character, an oral tone, content that includes two-dimensional characters and an ironic or unexpected plot reversal, and a narrative structure that drives exclusively towards this final point. The article argues that the repetition of this formula and the tales’ short format draw attention to their combination of subversion/conservatism and horror/humour: foregrounding a central paradox of Gothic.

This paper seeks to connect the concepts of “terror” and “horror” proposed by Gothic novelist Ann Radcliffe to films by Brazilian directors Walter Hugo Khouri and José Mojica Marins. It will be discussed here how such concepts manifest themselves in the national context and in which senses, trapped somewhere between repetition and difference, Khouri and Mojica’s films can be deemed expressions of a Brazilian Gothic. Stemming from elements derived from Anglo-American criticism, but, highlighting the different meanings that these elements gain in Brazil. To interpret Brazilian films in the light of the Gothic means addressing the issue of “construction of meaning” in national history, as the Gothic has the potential to revive old traumas and generate discussions about specific social contexts.

The spirit to respect the rights of all living environment in literature that was found in the 1970s in William Rueckert’s works was considered as the emergence of the new criticism in literature, ecocriticism, which brought the efforts to trace the spirit in works of literature. Works arose after the 1840s written by Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, and Margareth Fuller, the American transcendentalists, are considered to be the first works presenting the respect for the living environment as claimed by Peter Barry. James Fenimore Cooper’s reputation in American literary history appeared because of his role in leading American literature into its identity. Among his works, The Leatherstocking Tales mostly attracted European readers’ attention when he successfully applied American issues. The major issue in the work is the spirit of the immigrants to dominate flora, fauna and human beings as was experienced by the indigenous people. Applying ecocriticism theory in doing the analysis, it has been found that Cooper’s works particularly his The Leatherstocking Tales (1823-1841) present Cooper’s great concern for the sustainable life. He shows that compassion, respect, wisdom, and justice are the essential aspects in preserving nature that meet the main concern of ecocriticism and hence the works that preceded the transcendentalists’ work places themselves as the embryo of ecocriticism in America.Keywords: Ecocriticism, James Fenimore Cooper, The Leatherstocking Tales, living environment, sustainable life

Abstract This article deals with the work of two of the most prominent horror fiction writers in American history, namely Edgar Allan Poe and Stephen King. The focus of this study is put on the comparative approach while tracing the influence of Poe’s several chosen narratives in King’s novel called The Shining (1977). The chosen approach has uncovered that King’s novel embodies numerous characteristics, tendencies, and other signs of inspiration by Poe’s narratives. The Shining encompasses Poe’s tales such as “The Masque of the Red Death”, “The Fall of the House of Usher”, and “The Black Cat” which are shown to be pivotal aspects of King’s novel. The analysis has shown that the aforementioned King’s novel exhibits Shakespearean elements intertwined with Poe’s “Masque of the Red Death”, the Overlook Hotel to be a composite consisting of various Poesque references, and that The Shining’s protagonist is a reflection of autobiographical references to specific aspects of the lives of Poe and King themselves.

El artículo aborda el problema enfrentado por la crítica literaria en la búsqueda de una identidad latinoamericana, ya que al tratar de reflexionar sobre el tema, surgen varias inquietudes con respecto a los propios términos.En este estudio intentamos definir términos tales como crítica, literatura latinoamericana, y la identidad. La contribución es, por lo tanto, de aclaración.Por último, se sugiere lo que debería ser la tarea de la crítica y el papel de la crítica en el contexto de América Latina, con el sincretismo cultural y la unidad de los temas que le dan una identidad. Tiene que ser una tarea creativa, una que da a luz la ideología y el conocimiento, que se manifiesta dialécticamente la relación producción-significante, la sociedad y la historia, y que hace evidente la la síntesis cultural que América Latina proyecta como su imagen. The articIe discusses the problem confronted by literary criticism in the search for a Latin American identity, inasmuch as while attempting to reflect on the subject, there arise several concems regarding the terms themselves.In this study we attempt to define such terms as criticism, critic, Latin American literature, and identity. The contribution is, therefore, one of cIarification.Finally, we suggest what should be the task of criticism and the role of the critic in the Latin American context, with the cultural sincretism and unity of issues that give it an identity. It must be a creative task, one that brings forth ideology and knowledge, that manifests dialectically the production-signifier relationship, society and history, and that evinces the cultural synthesis that Latin America projects as its image.

Introduction. This article examines the blues music tradition from the perspective of the use of symbolic representations by the creators of this form of culture, which formed a unique “hidden transcripts” transmitted by certain socio-cultural groups that lived and worked in a certain historical era. Since the blues tradition in the United States originates in black communities, in terms of the self-representation of representatives of this groups to the dominant culture, we can talk abut the music of this socio-cultural period of American history as an instrument for conveying “hidden transcripts”.Methodology and sources. The author used the comparative-historical methodology in the context of studying the relationship of domination and subordination between groups and individuals. All subordinate groups use resistance strategies that go unnoticed by superior groups. Open public interaction between dominant and oppressed groups is defined by the term “public transcripts” and criticism of power that takes place offstage by the term “hidden transcripts”. Forms of hidden transcripts are coded demonstrations by oppressed groups to resist and oppose themselves, their way of life, and the difficulties of inequality to dominant groups.Results and discussion. In the context of any dominance-subordination relationship, spaces of autonomy for oppressed racial and social groups were formed, in which there was an opportunity for self-expression as acts of resistance to existing inequality, which found its expression in songs, folk tales, clothing, language, and religious expression. The development of hidden transcripts depends not only on the creation of relatively uncontrollable physical places and free time, but also on the active human agents who create and disseminate them. The bearers are likely to be as socially marginalized as the places where they gather.Conclusion. Oppressed or marginalized groups create not just their art and culture as a social group caught up in a certain cultural context, but a culture of integration into society, as well as a culture of interaction with the social hierarchy in which these groups have a rather low position. Groups excluded from the decision-making process or weakly involved in it, develop their own models for demonstrating their presence in society, and also try to convey their content to all other members of society, whether groups and individuals close or distant in status and hierarchy.

Violent crime, and the impulse to temper it, fuel cycles of utopian and dystopian discourse in North American literature. Dystopian fiction operates as a social document that highlight the anxieties of the time in which authoring takes place, and in Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, America's violent history/(his)story is legalized and gendered. The principal narrator, Offred, manages her perspective—the only thing she can claim personal ownership over—under the pressure of a strict monotheocracy. This paper examines Atwood's novel with a historical-critical lens and posits that groundwork for Gilead was seeded during a spike of lurid serial murders in the 1970s/1980s—a discourse established, perhaps hyperbolically, by the pre-digital press combined with the resurgence of conservative values during the Reagan administration; these conditions fertilized the neo-patriarchal legislation of the fictional Gilead—text born of context. Both historical and feminist criticism discover examples of gendered assault, contemporary to the time of the novel's authoring, bleeding into the nebulously timed present-day Gilead—for time, the narrator notes, has not been of enumerable value since the mid-1980s. The Handmaid's Tale repurposes the history of sexual violence and femicide; here, horror is systematically present within the Puritan womb which seeks to shield an infantilized population—women from the monsters in dark alleys to the proliferation of Ted Bundy and Edmund Kemper doppelgangers in mass media.

Introduction It is very common for children’s films to adapt, rework, or otherwise re-imagine existing cultural material. Such re-imaginings are potential candidates for fidelity criticism: a mode of analysis whereby an adaptation is judged according to its degree of faithfulness to the source text. Indeed, it is interesting that while fidelity criticism is now considered outdated and problematic by adaptation theorists (see Stam; Leitch; and Whelehan) the issue of fidelity has tended to linger in the discussions that form around material adapted for children. In particular, it is often assumed that the re-imagining of cultural material for children will involve a process of “dumbing down” that strips the original text of its complexity so that it is more easily consumed by young audiences (see Semenza; Kellogg; Hastings; and Napolitano). This is especially the case when children’s films draw from texts—or genres—that are specifically associated with an adult readership. This paper explores such an interplay between children’s and adult’s culture with reference to the re-imagining of the horror genre in children’s animated film. Recent years have seen an inrush of animated films that play with horror tropes, conventions, and characters. These include Frankenweenie (2012), ParaNorman (2012), Hotel Transylvania (2012), Igor (2008), Monsters Inc. (2001), Monster House (2006), and Monsters vs Aliens (2009). Often diminishingly referred to as “kiddie horror” or “goth lite”, this re-imagining of the horror genre is connected to broader shifts in children’s culture, literature, and media. Anna Jackson, Karen Coats, and Roderick McGillis, for instance, have written about the mainstreaming of the Gothic in children’s literature after centuries of “suppression” (2); a glance at the titles in a children’s book store, they tell us, may suggest that “fear or the pretence of fear has become a dominant mode of enjoyment in literature for young people” (1). At the same time, as Lisa Hopkins has pointed out, media products with dark, supernatural, or Gothic elements are increasingly being marketed to children, either directly or through product tie-ins such as toys or branded food items (116-17). The re-imagining of horror for children demands our attention for a number of reasons. First, it raises questions about the commercialisation and repackaging of material that has traditionally been considered “high culture”, particularly when the films in question are seen to pilfer from sites of the literary Gothic such as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) or Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897). The classic horror films of the 1930s such as James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) also have their own canonical status within the genre, and are objects of reverence for horror fans and film scholars alike. Moreover, aficionados of the genre have been known to object vehemently to any perceived simplification or dumbing down of horror conventions in order to address a non-horror audience. As Lisa Bode has demonstrated, such objections were articulated in many reviews of the film Twilight, in which the repackaging and simplifying of vampire mythology was seen to pander to a female, teenage or “tween” audience (710-11). Second, the re-imagining of horror for children raises questions about whether the genre is an appropriate source of pleasure and entertainment for young audiences. Horror has traditionally been understood as problematic and damaging even for adult viewers: Mark Jancovich, for instance, writes of the long-standing assumption that horror “is moronic, sick and worrying; that any person who derives pleasure from the genre is moronic, sick and potentially dangerous” and that both the genre and its fans are “deviant” (18). Consequently, discussions about the relationship between children and horror have tended to emphasise regulation, restriction, censorship, effect, and “the dangers of imitative violence” (Buckingham 95). As Paul Wells observes, there is a “consistent concern […] that horror films are harmful to children, but clearly these films are not made for children, and the responsibility for who views them lies with adult authority figures who determine how and when horror films are seen” (24). Previous academic work on the child as horror viewer has tended to focus on children as consumers of horror material designed for adults. Joanne Cantor’s extensive work in this area has indicated that fright reactions to horror media are commonly reported and can be long-lived (Cantor; and Cantor and Oliver). Elsewhere, the work of Sarah Smith (45-76) and David Buckingham (95-138) has indicated that children, like adults, can gain certain pleasures from the genre; it has also indicated that children can be quite media savvy when viewing horror, and can operate effectively as self-censors. However, little work has yet been conducted on whether (and how) the horror genre might be transformed for child viewers. With this in mind, I explore here the re-imagining of horror in two children’s animated films: Frankenweenie and ParaNorman. I will consider the way horror tropes, narratives, conventions, and characters have been reshaped in each film with a child’s perspective in mind. This, I argue, does not make them simplified texts or unsuitable objects of pleasure for adults; instead, the films demonstrate that the act of re-imagining horror for children calls into question long-held assumptions about pleasure, taste, and the boundaries between “adult” and “child”. Frankenweenie and ParaNorman: Rewriting the Myth of Childhood Innocence Frankenweenie is a stop-motion animation written by John August and directed by Tim Burton, based on a live-action short film made by Burton in 1984. As its name suggests, Frankenweenie re-imagines Shelley’s Frankenstein by transforming the relationship between creator and monster into that between child and pet. Burton’s Victor Frankenstein is a young boy living in a small American town, a creative loner who enjoys making monster movies. When his beloved dog Sparky is killed in a car accident, young Victor—like his predecessor in Shelley’s novel—is driven by the awfulness of this encounter with death to discover the “mysteries of creation” (Shelley 38): he digs up Sparky’s body, drags the corpse back to the family home, and reanimates him in the attic. This coming-to-life sequence is both a re-imagining of the famous animation scene in Whale’s film Frankenstein and a tender expression of the love between a boy and his dog. The re-imagined creation scene therefore becomes a site of negotiation between adult and child audiences: adult viewers familiar with Whale’s adaptation and its sense of electric spectacle are invited to rethink this scene from a child’s perspective, while child viewers are given access to a key moment from the horror canon. While this blurring of the lines between child and adult is a common theme in Burton’s work—many of his films exist in a liminal space where a certain childlike sensibility mingles with a more adult-centric dark humour—Frankenweenie is unique in that it actively re-imagines as “childlike” a film and/or work of literature that was previously populated by adult characters and associated with adult audiences. ParaNorman is the second major film from the animation studio Laika Entertainment. Following in the footsteps of the earlier Laika film Coraline (2009)—and paving the way for the studio’s 2014 release, Boxtrolls—ParaNorman features stop-motion animation, twisted storylines, and the exploration of dark themes and spaces by child characters. The film tells the story of Norman, an eleven year old boy who can see and communicate with the dead. This gift marks him as an outcast in the small town of Blithe Hollow, which has built its identity on the historic trial and hanging of an “evil” child witch. Norman must grapple with the town’s troubled past and calm the spirit of the vengeful witch; along the way, he and an odd assortment of children battle zombies and townsfolk alike, the latter appearing more monstrous than the former as the film progresses. Although ParaNorman does not position itself as an adaptation of a specific horror text, as does Frankenweenie, it shares with Burton’s film a playful intertextuality whereby references are constantly made to iconic films in the horror genre (including Halloween [1978], Friday the 13th [1980], and Day of the Dead [1985]). Both films were released in 2012 to critical acclaim. Interestingly, though, film critics seemed to disagree over who these texts were actually “for.” Some reviewers described the films as children’s texts, and warned that adults would likely find them “tame and compromised” (Scott), “toothless” (McCarthy) or “sentimental” (Bradshaw). These comments carry connotations of simplification: the suggestion is that the conventions and tropes of the horror genre have been weakened (or even contaminated) by the association with child audiences, and that consequently adults cannot (or should not) take pleasure in the films. Other reviewers of ParaNorman and Frankenweenie suggested that adults were more likely to enjoy the films than children (O’Connell; Berardinelli; and Wolgamott). Often, this suggestion came together with a warning about scary or dark content: the films were deemed to be too frightening for young children, and this exclusion of the child audience allowed the reviewer to acknowledge his or her own enjoyment of and investment in the film (and the potential enjoyment of other adult viewers). Lou Lumenick, for instance, peppers his review of ParaNorman with language that indicates his own pleasure (“probably the year’s most visually dazzling movie so far”; the climax is “too good to spoil”; the humour is “deliciously twisted”), while warning that children as old as eight should not be taken to see the film. Similarly, Christy Lemire warns that certain elements of Frankenweenie are scary and that “this is not really a movie for little kids”; she goes on to add that this scariness “is precisely what makes ‘Frankenweenie’ such a consistent wonder to watch for the rest of us” (emphasis added). In both these cases a line is drawn between child and adult viewers, and arguably it is the film’s straying into the illicit area of horror from the confines of a children’s text that renders it an object of pleasure for the adult viewer. The thrill of being scared is also interpreted here as a specifically adult pleasure. This need on the part of critics to establish boundaries between child and adult viewerships is interesting given that the films themselves strive to incorporate children (as characters and as viewers) into the horror space. In particular, both films work hard to dismantle the myths of childhood innocence—and associated ideas about pleasure and taste—that have previously seen children excluded from the culture of the horror film. Both the young protagonists, for instance, are depicted as media-literate consumers or makers of horror material. Victor is initially seen exhibiting one of his home-made monster movies to his bemused parents, and we first encounter Norman watching a zombie film with his (dead) grandmother; clearly a consummate horror viewer, Norman decodes the film for Grandma, explaining that the zombie is eating the woman’s head because, “that’s what they do.” In this way, the myth of childhood innocence is rewritten: the child’s mature engagement with the horror genre gives him agency, which is linked to his active position in the narrative (both Norman and Victor literally save their towns from destruction); the parents, meanwhile, are reduced to babbling stereotypes who worry that their sons will “turn out weird” (Frankenweenie) or wonder why they “can’t be like other kids” (ParaNorman). The films also rewrite the myth of childhood innocence by depicting Victor and Norman as children with dark, difficult lives. Importantly, each boy has encountered death and, for each, his parents have failed to effectively guide him through the experience. In Frankenweenie Victor is grief-stricken when Sparky dies, yet his parents can offer little more than platitudes to quell the pain of loss. “When you lose someone you love they never really leave you,” Victor’s mother intones, “they just move into a special place in your heart,” to which Victor replies “I don’t want him in my heart—I want him here with me!” The death of Norman’s grandmother is similarly dismissed by his mother in ParaNorman. “I know you and Grandma were very close,” she says, “but we all have to move on. Grandma’s in a better place now.” Norman objects: “No she’s not, she’s in the living room!” In both scenes, the literal-minded but intelligent child seems to understand death, loss, and grief while the parents are unable to speak about these “mature” concepts in a meaningful way. The films are also reminders that a child’s first experience of death can come very young, and often occurs via the loss of an elderly relative or a beloved pet. Death, Play, and the Monster In both films, therefore, the audience is invited to think about death. Consequently, there is a sense in each film that while the violent and sexual content of most horror texts has been stripped away, the dark centre of the horror genre remains. As Paul Wells reminds us, horror “is predominantly concerned with the fear of death, the multiple ways in which it can occur, and the untimely nature of its occurrence” (10). Certainly, the horror texts which Frankenweenie and ParaNorman re-imagine are specifically concerned with death and mortality. The various adaptations of Frankenstein that are referenced in Frankenweenie and the zombie films to which ParaNorman pays homage all deploy “the monster” as a figure who defies easy categorisation as living or dead. The othering of this figure in the traditional horror narrative allows him/her/it to both subvert and confirm cultural ideas about life, death, and human status: for monsters, as Elaine Graham notes, have long been deployed in popular culture as figures who “mark the fault-lines” and also “signal the fragility” of boundary structures, including the boundary between human and not human, and that between life and death (12). Frankenweenie’s Sparky, as an iteration of the Frankenstein monster, clearly fits this description: he is neither living nor dead, and his monstrosity emerges not from any act of violence or from physical deformity (he remains, throughout the film, a cute and lovable dog, albeit with bolts fixed to his neck) but from his boundary-crossing status. However, while most versions of the Frankenstein monster are deliberately positioned to confront ideas about the human/machine boundary and to perform notions of the posthuman, such concerns are sidelined in Frankenweenie. Instead, the emphasis is on concerns that are likely to resonate with children: Sparky is a reminder of the human preoccupation with death, loss, and the question of why (or whether, or when) we should abide by the laws of nature. Arguably, this indicates a re-imagining of the Frankenstein tale not only for child audiences but from a child’s perspective. In ParaNorman, similarly, the zombie–often read as an articulation of adult anxieties about war, apocalypse, terrorism, and the deterioration of social order (Platts 551-55)—is re-used and re-imagined in a childlike way. From a child’s perspective, the zombie may represent the horrific truth of mortality and/or the troublesome desire to live forever that emerges once this truth has been confronted. More specifically, the notion of dealing meaningfully with the past and of honouring rather than silencing the dead is a strong thematic undercurrent in ParaNorman, and in this sense the zombies are important figures who dramatise the connections between past and present. While this past/present connection is explored on many levels in ParaNorman—including the level of a town grappling with its dark history—it is Norman and his grandmother who take centre stage: the boundary-crossing figure of the zombie is re-realised here in terms of a negotiation with a presence that is now absent (the elderly relative who has died but is still remembered). Indeed, the zombies in this film are an implicit rebuke to Norman’s mother and her command that Norman “move on” after his grandmother’s death. The dead are still present, this film playfully reminds us, and therefore “moving on” is an overly simplistic and somewhat disrespectful response (especially when imposed on children by adult authority figures.) If the horror narrative is built around the notion that “normality is threatened by the Monster”, as Robin Wood has famously suggested, ParaNorman and Frankenweenie re-imagine this narrative of subversion from a child’s perspective (31). Both films open up a space within which the child is permitted to negotiate with the destabilising figure of the monster; the normality that is “threatened” here is the adult notion of the finality of death and, relatedly, the assumption that death is not a suitable subject for children to think or talk about. Breaking down such understandings, Frankenweenie and ParaNorman strive not so much to play with death (a phrase that implies a certain callousness, a problematic disregard for human life) but to explore death through the darkness of play. This is beautifully imaged in a scene from ParaNorman in which Norman and his friend Neil play with the ghost of Neil’s recently deceased dog. “We’re going to play with a dead dog in the garden,” Neil enthusiastically announces to his brother, “and we’re not even going to have to dig him up first!” Somewhat similarly, film critic Richard Corliss notes in his review of Frankenweenie that the film’s “message to the young” is that “children should play with dead things.” Through this intersection between “death” and “play”, both films propose a particularly child-like (although not necessarily child-ish) way of negotiating horror’s dark territory. Conclusion Animated film has always been an ambiguous space in terms of age, pleasure, and viewership. As film critic Margaret Pomeranz has observed, “there is this perception that if it’s an animated film then you can take the little littlies” (Pomeranz and Stratton). Animation itself is often a signifier of safety, fun, nostalgia, and childishness; it is a means of addressing families and young audiences. Yet at the same time, the fantastic and transformative aspects of animation can be powerful tools for telling stories that are dark, surprising, or somehow subversive. It is therefore interesting that the trend towards re-imagining horror for children that this paper has identified is unfolding within the animated space. It is beyond the scope of this paper to fully consider what animation as a medium brings to this re-imagining process. However, it is worth noting that the distinctive stop-motion style used in both films works to position them as alternatives to Disney products (for although Frankenweenie was released under the Disney banner, it is visually distinct from most of Disney’s animated ventures). The majority of Disney films are adaptations or re-imaginings of some sort, yet these re-imaginings look to fairytales or children’s literature for their source material. In contrast, as this paper has demonstrated, Frankenweenie and ParaNorman open up a space for boundary play: they give children access to tropes, narratives, and characters that are specifically associated with adult viewers, and they invite adults to see these tropes, narratives, and characters from a child’s perspective. Ultimately, it is difficult to determine the success of this re-imagining process: what, indeed, does a successful re-imagining of horror for children look like, and who might be permitted to take pleasure from it? Arguably, ParaNorman and Frankenweenie have succeeded in reshaping the genre without simplifying it, deploying tropes and characters from classic horror texts in a meaningful way within the complex space of children’s animated film. References Berardinelli, James. “Frankenweenie (Review).” Reelviews, 4 Oct. 2012. 6 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.reelviews.net/php_review_template.php?identifier=2530›. Bode, Lisa. “Transitional Tastes: Teen Girls and Genre in the Critical Reception of Twilight.” Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies 24.5 (2010): 707-19. Bradshaw, Peter. “Frankenweenie: First Look Review.” The Guardian, 11 Oct. 2012. 6 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.theguardian.com/film/2012/oct/10/frankenweenie-review-london-film-festival-tim-burton›. Buckingham, David. Moving Images: Understanding Children’s Emotional Responses to Television. Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1996. 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And Wagging Its Tail: ‘Frankenweenie’, Tim Burton’s Homage to Horror Classics.” New York Times, 4 Oct. 2012. 6 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/05/movies/frankenweenie-tim-burtons-homage-to-horror-classics.html›. Semenza, Gregory M. Colón. “Teens, Shakespeare, and the Dumbing Down Cliché: The Case of The Animated Tales.” Shakespeare Bulletin 26.2 (2008): 37-68. Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus. Hertfordshire: Wordsworth Editions, 1993 [1818]. Smith, Sarah J. Children, Cinema and Censorship: From Dracula to the Dead End Kids. London: I.B. Tauris, 2005. Stam, Robert. “Introduction: The Theory and Practice of Adaptation.” Literature and Film: A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Film Adaptation. Eds. Robert Stam and Alessandra Raengo. Oxford: Blackwell, 2005. 1-52. Wells, Paul. The Horror Genre: From Beelzebub to Blair Witch. London: Wallflower, 2000. 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The moving image has been attracting people's attention since the first day and makes the cinema a socializing space with the start of the mass screening in the halls. Cinema, which conveys images from everyday life to the audience as well as in its early years, begins to include fictional stories over time. In these stories, cinema inspired by real life also carries reflections related to the social environment with the films it produces. With the discovery of new techniques such as fiction, the narrative possibilities in cinema also develop, forming a film language over time. Social culture, which has become differentiated after the industrial revolution, creates genres in literature with the need to produce products according to increasing demands for profit in a commercial context. Genres formed with similar themes in literary works also find a response in cinema, which is fed by literature. The similarity of the visual product and the plot revealed by the cinematographic uses such as light, camera movements, space, decor, layout that cinema allows helps to diversify genre films in different genres such as comedy, musical, horror. Thus, iconography, which is owned by each genre in the content of films that respond to audience demands and make up genres, becomes a distinctive feature. These uses, which differentiate the species, also contribute to the formation of subspecies belonging to each species. While showing similarities with the main genre, subgenres that constantly address similar themes and orientations also continue to exist as long as they meet the demands and expectations of the audience. With the First World War, filmmakers experienced difficulties in Europe, while with the formation of star actors in America, the growth of decor, the establishment of large studios and the development of film technique, American (Hollywood) cinema becomes a production and distribution industry. In this way, cinema, which has the ability to influence its audience through cinematography, also allows American culture to spread to the World through films. Using the opportunities provided by the cinema, the director also reflects his point of view on the political position of society through cinematography on his films. Thus, films reflect the cultural values of the society in which they are produced, while also having traces in a critical context. Horror films that introduce and disturb their audience with obscurity in genre films also provide the most appropriate iconography for the presentation of social, political and economic criticism. The feeling of fear caused by obscurity and inexperience finds a place in films as a result of the desire for relaxation born when an individual sitting in a comfortable chair knows that others will not be affected by watching the events they have experienced. The sense of fear created by situations such as the state of chaos caused by war environments and the unknowability of tomorrow, the industrial revolution and the pace of social changes has given direction to horror films in the history of cinema. In these films, which present social problems, political situations and economic effects as a sub-message, different sub-genres are formed over time with horror icons such as monsters, natural disasters, religious elements or killers. These films, which can easily turn the element of criticism into a horror icon, also have the opportunity to influence and direct viewers through these elements of symbolic criticism in the subgenres they are divided into. This study aims to reveal how changing economic, political and social values affect the icons of slasher films by examining the transformations that slasher films, a subgenre of horror cinema, have undergone over time. For this purpose, the film Halloween Kills (2021), which deals with the theme of Halloween, which American culture is trying to introduce to the World and adopt, was chosen as an example. In the study, information was also given about the previous films that were released as Halloween series and genre analysis was performed on the iconography of the sample film. Based on the method of iconographic and iconological criticism applied by art historian Erwin Panofsky to visual material, an attempt was made to analyze the deep meaning that certain scenes carry. While Panofsky's iconography method represents the meaning of the image at first glance, the main meaning of the scene is tried to be explained by examining the social and political conditions that were effective during the production of the film for the iconological method. With the help of the study, it was seen that the first slasher icons who questioned morality and directed to traditionalism differed due to changing policies and moved towards a modern line. This situation reveals the influence of the existing ideology on iconography.

The primary objective of this M. A. thesis is to correct some false assumptions found in both older and more recent secondary literature on North American Indian narratives. Many folklorists base their folktale criteria on terms of cultural differences instead of similarities which results in an ethnocentric point of view that holds the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmarchen as a standard against which all other folktale collections falls short. If we want to strive for a world view that will embrace all types of literature, while respecting the individuality of each culture, then we must focus on the essential similarities among world literatures and not the differences. The purpose of using another culture as a comparison, such as that of the North American Indians, is to question the ethnocentric definitions of folktales and fairy tales which have often been too rigid. Perhaps those cultural values exhibited by North American Indian folktales could prove to be beneficial to the world's multi-cultural society, in that these values could enrich and rejuvenate some Western values, such as respect for animals and the environment. These values may offer solutions to urgent contemporary world problems. Through a comparative analysis of the animal suitor motif found in the Grimms' fairy tales and North American Indian folktales, I hope to call attention to the stark cross-cultural similarities in universal folklore and to bring to light the multiplicity of cultural values which are deeply rooted in fairy tales and folklores around the world.

9/11 attacks open the 21st Century into the fear of the Other, which is coincidentally at the core of the Gothic tradition. In post-911 Gothic texts, the tension of Self and Other can be seen from the gothic family (representing homeland and country) and the gothic monster (representing foreign, dangerous intruder) respectively. This essay is a close study of two sets of Hollywood films dealing with such tension - Twilight saga and The Hills Have Eyes duology. It is argued, with Foucault’s notion of Power/Knowledge, that such Hollywood gothic productions further create and hence reinforce the fear of, but not suppress, the Other. The 21st Century Gothic genre is therefore no longer subversive, but appropriated to educate the unaware public.
published_or_final_version
Literary and Cultural Studies
Master
Master of Arts

Vampire and Vampirism have raised the interests of the public from 1700s. Vampire is being used as a lens to discuss social issues in the real world. However, it is seen that there are limited works discussing the situation of coloured communities. This project is to examine female vampire figures in select works and evaluate the extent to which those figures are able to represent an empowered image of women of colour. To achieve this aim, textual analysis will be used to examine classical vampire literature, such as Sheridan Le Fanu's "Carmilla" (1872/2003), Mary E. Wilkins Freeman's "Luella Miller" (1902/2014), Bram Stoker's Dracula (2007), Anne O'Brien Rice's Interview with the Vampire (1976/2010) and L. A. Banks's Minion (2003). There will be interdisciplinary reading of the social situation and behavior of the colored alongside with textual analysis of Jewelle Gomez's The Gilda Stories: A Novel (1991) and Octavia E. Butler's Fledgling: A Novel (2005). I will conclude that vampire literature has the ability and potentiality to reflect social behavior and environment of the coloured, especially coloured women. The contribution of this thesis is to demonstrate that reflecting the situation of the coloured can be a new area for vampire literature to explore in the future development and evolution of vampire literature as a genre. This is also breakthrough to the function of vampire literature as a genre because on top of appearing as entertainment and reflection of society, vampire literature is able to serve social function to empower and enlighten readers by raising their awareness to social issues that people are used to neglect.

In House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski has produced a text which epitomises the traits and concerns of postmodernist literature. Through his attention to aspects such as metafiction, intertextuality and parody, Danielewski develops a narrative structure which is best understood as a literary labyrinth. It is a structure intended to reflect the social conditions of the twenty-first century and comment on the experience of people living at this time. Some of the meaning-making strategies within the book’s labyrinthine structure are thus discussed in detail in order to demonstrate the relevance and importance of House of Leaves as social commentary. House of Leaves is an exemplary postmodernist text, but it is also one that seeks to guide the reader beyond the intellectual impasse of the postmodernist paradigm toward a renewed ethical and political engagement with the world. One of the most important goals of both Danielewski’s novel and this thesis is to attempt to redefine the postmodernist perspective in such a way as to insist on the necessity of what I call a new realism. This is founded upon an awareness of the pervasiveness of the self-perpetuating ideology of capitalism, even in the perspective of postmodernism (which purports to subvert all authoritative ideologies). Playing a crucial role in perpetuating the status quo of capitalism is the growth of entertainment culture, which works to sideline crucial political issues by replacing information with infotainment. The result is an intensification of the processes of commodification. Such an intensification, it is argued, may be countered by a radical scepticism which draws upon the methods and insights of contemporary science.

Thesis (MA)--Stellenbosch University, 2002.
ENGLISH ABSTRACT: This thesis contains the results of an investigation into the elements of the horror story and the Gothic novel in three contemporary works. The investigation was conducted within the theoretical framework of the original historical Gothic novel of the eighteenth century, in comparison with contemporary theorization on the Gothic, with specific reference to the study of Eddy Bertin, and to some extent Hendrik van Gorp and Fred Botting. Four conventions of the Gothic genre were identified, and were applied to an Afrikaans novel and drama, as well as a Dutch novel, to establish to which extent the Gothic manifests itself in these contemporary texts. The study focussed on The night only has one eye (1991) by Francois Bloemhof, Crossing/ Passion (1994) by Reza de Wet and A heart of stone (1999) by Renate Dorrestein. From these texts, which were read within a Gothic framework, it could be deduced that there is a deviation from the conventional Gothic texts within both the Afrikaans and the Dutch texts. This deviation especially occurs with regard to characterization, with specific reference to the female character. The authors use the traditional Gothic characters as a point of departure, but bring about renewal in the texts by making them part of a wider philosophical field. The portrayal of the themes of good versus evil, space and tension, also shows a deviation from the Gothic conventions. An important finding in this study is that the Gothic genre in its pure form can not successfully be traced in contemporary literature. The three texts under discussion show the occurrence of allogamy between the different sub-categories of horror. A further important conclusion is that these three texts cannot be merely categorized as Popular literature because of the renewal it brings regarding the traditional Gothic conventions.
AFRIKAANSE OPSOMMING: Hierdie tesis bevat die resultate van 'n ondersoek na elemente van die gruwelverhaal en die Gotiese roman in drie kontemporêre tekste. Die ondersoek is gedoen binne die teoretiese raamwerk oor die genre van die oorspronklike historiese Gotiese roman van die agtiende eeu, in vergelyking met die hedendaagse teoretisering oor die Gotiek, met spesifieke verwysing na die navorsing van Eddy Bertin, en in 'n mindere mate Hendrik van Gorp en Fred Botting. Vier konvensies van die Gotiese verhaaltipe is geïdentifiseer en toegepas op 'n Afrikaanse roman en drama, asook 'n Nederlandse roman, om vas te stel in watter mate en op watter wyse die Gotiek gemanifesteer word in dié hedendaagse tekste. Die navorsing fokus op Die nag het net een oog (1991) van Francios Bloemhof, Drif (1994) van Reza de Wet en Een hart van steen (1999) van Renate Dorrestein. Dié tekste vertoon al drie duidelik Gotiese kenmerke, maar vertoon daarbyook opvallende afwykings van die tradisionele verskyningsvorme van die Gotiek. Dit geld veral vir karakterisering - meer spesifiek die vroulike karakter en die verhouding tussen die twee geslagte. Die outeurs gebruik die tradisionele Gotiese tipe karakters as vertrekpunt, maar bring vernuwing deur die tekste deel te maak van 'n wyer filosofiese veld. Die tekste se hantering van ander konvensies op die terrein van die tematiese (die goeie versus die bose), ruimte en spanning wyk ook af van die historiese Gotiek. 'n Belangrik aspek wat in die ondersoek na vore kom, is dat die Gotiek as verhaaltipe selde nog in sy suiwer vorm in literatuur aangetref word. Die drie tekste onder bespreking toon in watter aansienlike mate kruisbestuiwing plaasvind tussen die onderskeie sub-kategorieë van die riller. Laastens word daar aangevoer dat die Gotiese en gruwel-elemente binne dié drie tekste op so 'n vernuwende wyse geproblematiseer en uitgedaag word, dat dit nie sonder meer as triviaalliteratuur beskou kan word nie.

The main assertion of this thesis is that both 19th century and contemporary Gothic literary texts are characterised by fugitivity, embodied by the fugitive ‘figure’ which through its ambiguity is re-deploying the distinction proposed by Ross Chambers – inescapably both narrative and textual. The fugitive figure is intimately related to desire and its textual mobilisation. This mobilisation simulates the paradoxical experience of the sublime in which the pursuer of the fugitive figure is left speechless before the feared and desired unnamable other. Anne Rice’s ‘The vampire chronicles’ are discussed, as are ‘Frankenstein’, ‘The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ and ‘Dracula’. Analysis of these texts constitutes a ‘genealogy’, conceived and executed in poststructuralist terms, consisting of a deconstructive analysis inflected by psychoanalytic inputs. The genealogy is applied to indicate the importance of the family structure and its potential for dissolution in Gothic texts, and recreates a search for origins, which is a recurring theme in Gothic writing. The fugitive figure, through its embodiment of insatiable desire, is beyond either narrative or tropaic apprehension. It is in continual metamorphosis and invites pursuit in its different guises. However, although it appears as the objectified pursued, it actually arises from within the pursuer, so any attempt to arrest the disruptive flow it signifies is, although unavoidable and necessary, a self-deceptive act doomed to failure. This failure is registered simultaneously at narrative and textual levels.
Doctor of Philosophy (PhD)