“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”
? H.P. Lovecraft, Supernatural Horror in Literature
I pushed my way past the dark curtains, gripping my friend’s arm as we shuffled along the dimly lit halls. The air was cool against my cheek and my nerves tensed with anticipation. Axes, chainsaws, and torn fabric hung from the walls; we rounded the corner and I held my breath. Suddenly, a disheveled and bloodied man opened his mouth in a roar and lunged toward us. My friend and I both jumped back in fright before continuing to inch our way through the rest of the haunted house, full of thrill and pure enjoyment as we reached the end.Â
I’m a halloween enthusiast, a lover of all things spooky, weird, and downright terrifying. From an early age, I watched gruesome horror movies with my dad that most definitely left me with nightmares which plagued me for years. To this day, I am a big fan of scary stories, always hoping that the next one will give me that itchy feeling that I’m about to get got. But why? I know I’m not alone in my quest to be terrified, to make myself scream, or give myself the heebie-jeebies when I’m alone in my apartment.Â
An article from The Guardian explains that we get an adrenaline rush when the fear centres in our brains are activated. One study found that there’s a sweet spot for fear, a place when — just after being scared — we experience a rush of endorphins and dopamine, giving us a satisfying buzz of feel-good chemicals.Â
Fear reactions are hardwired into our brains, and scary stories are enmeshed in our collective consciousness. In the 1800s, the Brothers Grimm famously collected an ambitious work of German oral tales as a way to preserve these fantastical stories. They mostly centred around the concerns and history of German society, but are meant to invoke universal feelings of fear. Hansel and Gretel spoke to the harsh reality of poverty caused by the Great Famine of 1315-1317 in Europe, sometimes forcing the elderly to either starve or abandon their children. The Pied Piper is speculated to have spoken to fears around migration, the Crusades, or even collective mania.
In this same vein, zombie narratives can be traced back to African myths about colonization and slavery, fears of vampires can be traced back to the Middle Ages, when the bubonic plague left victims with bloody mouth lesions and porphyria was thought to be cured by ingesting blood. Religion and spirituality are constantly used in horror films, playing off one of the most ancient and universal experiences of human kind.Â
Horror, in its entirety, raises the fear of being out of control and not knowing if the universe is really on your side. We are subjected to fate in these questions and the fear speaks to a sense of powerlessness. Modern horror has increasingly centred around technology, familial trauma, racism, gender and sexual identity, and pandemics showing that horror is an outlet for our societal concerns. Â
As horrifying as they may be, these stories could have some benefit in bringing people together. The fear of danger is a universal emotion, after all. Writer Sarah Dobbs explains in an article from “Den of Geek” that the Grimm Brothers added to a larger political movement in Germany that sought to re-unite the country in a time of fracturing identities.Â
“To that end, many writers and thinkers were turning to traditional folk tales to explore (or maybe define) a kind of German national identity. The theory was that these stories, passed down from one generation to the next, contained the collective hopes, fears, and morals of the German people.”Â
There is of course a line, when horror is abused to curate a “fear of the other,” but when used responsibly it can be of benefit in teaching us something about a place, a people, and a period in time. And when done properly, horror can make a bold statement against division and hatred.
These macabre narratives make us ask questions about ourselves, our culture, and the world around us. Moreover, the feeling of fear is immersive — it’s a puzzle that we have to solve in real time and demands our full and complete attention. It is a feeling that compels and captivates us, brings us to awareness of our bodies and surroundings, and stimulates our minds to ask questions about reality. And while we may not agree on much in our society, I think we can all agree that being chased through a corn field by a chainsaw-wielding serial killer is pretty damn terrifying.Â
Darien Johnsen is a UFV alumni who obtained her Bachelor of Arts degree with double extended minors in Global Development Studies and Sociology in 2020. She started writing for The Cascade in 2018, taking on the role of features editor shortly after. She’s passionate about justice, sustainable development, and education.