Fear and Wonder

It’s a night of the almost-full moon; and what’s more, reportedly there was a penumbral lunar eclipse earlier this evening. We spent a good deal of time in the backyard, enjoying a good autumnal bonfire of pine logs — also roasted hot dogs — and the moon was shining brilliant and white through the trees.

Before dark this evening, I took this picture of the fire ring I built using the bricks from my old bookshelves. Yes, these building-blocks of Old Pittsburgh have now made their way northwestward!

Before dark this evening, I took this picture of the fire ring I built using the bricks from my old bookshelves. Yes, these building-blocks of Old Pittsburgh have now made their way northwestward!

I’m jumping backward in time here to last weekend, when I started this post. That’s when I wrote the following:

Whew! You’ll never guess what I’ve been doing! I’ve just spent the past eight hours organizing my files. I’m not exactly done yet, but I’m taking a break, because I also wanted to write a post. You see, my wife is away at a church ladies’ retreat overnight, so it’s the perfect evening to have papers scattered and stacked all over the floor, and I don’t just mean in the Man Cave (our name for the room that is now my office — an ironic name, since it isn’t what most people would consider a “man cave.” Mine has a lot of desk space, office equipment, rustic bookshelves, and weird art. I’ll take a picture when it’s presentable). We got me a new, cheap, very used five-drawer file cabinet a few months back at Construction Junction — yes, the same dear store from which came the bricks and the boards that constituted my bookshelves at the old place! The cabinet has been hulking empty in the Man Cave since then. I finally am putting it to use. That’s a lot of kneeling, sorting, and getting up and down off the floor. I repeat: Whew!

October 18, 2013

October 18, 2013

Anyway, it’s October, and I was having a thought-provoking discussion with Nick (friend of this blog) about the traditional iconic monsters of Hallowe’en (the vampire, werewolf, Frankenstein’s monster, mummy, witch, ghost, and zombie) and what it is that scares us about each one. Between us, we came up with some fascinating theories (if I do say so myself!). I won’t steal his thunder here. Head on over to the Black Gate website for some delightful Hallowe’en fun! I’ll just say here that Nick has a fascinating prediction as to what monster is going to take the center of the pop culture stage as the zombie, a bit overripe, shuffles out of the spotlight. It may surprise you; but chances are, you’ve been creeped out by it at one time or another. Here’s the link: http://www.blackgate.com/2013/10/07/the-horror-oz-meets-the-scarecrow/

But here’s the point I wanted to address. In studying speculative fiction, one frequently encounters this quote from Lovecraft:

“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

Now, you know I’m a dyed-in-the-wool Lovecraft fan. There’s no doubt in my mind that he was the greatest horror writer of the 20th century, even as Poe was the greatest of the 19th. But try as I might, I can’t quite agree with that quote. Babies are practically born screaming, true — but they’re screaming in discomfort, not fear. And yes, I’ll always be proud and delighted that the oldest, the very first story we have in any form of English is Beowulf, a monster story — it’s one of ours. And it’s literature. And it’s ours. Monsters. Warm glow.

But it seems apparent to me that fear is no older and no stronger than wonder. They’re two sides of the same coin.

Having served in the foundations of the Uncanny City, these bricks now circle the fires in our humble backyard, where we are still, as Paul Darcy Boles said, "All storytellers sitting around the cave of the world."

Having served in the foundations of the Uncanny City, these bricks now circle the fires in our humble backyard, where we are still, as Paul Darcy Boles said, “All storytellers sitting around the cave of the world.”

Babies are born observing and absorbing. (And secreting and spewing, too — they do plenty of that.) Everything is new to them, and most things are amazing. As we gather around the fires in our caves, yes — our tales are inspired by the terror of the dangers around us, real and imagined. But they’re equally inspired by awe and fascination. “Tell us, traveler, of what you’ve seen. Was it terrible? Was it grand?”

Look at the fairy tales, which are the surest monitors: they feature dragons and witches and monsters . . . and they include glass mountains, magic lamps, and kingdoms in the sky. Wonder and terror.

At our wedding reception, we were highly amused by a glimpse of two very small girls on the dance floor, one from Julie’s side of the greater family and one from mine. “E” had “A” in a headlock and was gleefully dragging her around. “A” wore an expression that was the truest blend of happy excitement and mortal fear. She had come face-to-face with a person her own size who was full of fun, who was utterly original, and who might do absolutely anything. “A”‘s world had suddenly shifted and gotten bigger in that magical night of family, friends, joy, and music.

Tonight's fire

Tonight’s fire

My wife talks of my “theology of October.” If the vampire recoils from a crucifix, then the story declares that the demon fears the resurrected Lord, Who has power over evil. Amid the darkness, the Light shines all the brighter. We need the Light because we live in the vale of shadow, where the jack-o’-lantern’s infernal eyes glow. I can enjoy tales of the creepiest and most cosmic horror, because I feel completely safe. I know that beyond the chaos and sometimes unspeakable and inexplicable pain of this world, the ending is happy. I know that my Redeemer lives. “We shall not all sleep,” Scripture says, “but we shall all be changed; in an instant–in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet . . . and the dead shall be raised incorruptible.”

Isn’t Hallowe’en all about change? This is the threshold season. The sun crosses the line; the shadows arrive; the trees put on their golden, blazing finery and then disrobe for sleep. In this season, we turn back to the fire. We come in from outdoors. Smooth pumpkins become faces — they become heads, glowing in the night, baleful, gleeful, wicked, clownish, merry. Dry leaves become instruments, rattling in the dark where bandogs howl. On All Hallows Eve, we transform. Children become beings fanciful and strange.

I’m going to quote from my story “The Bone Man” here (Fantasy & Science Fiction, December 2007):

“Half a block from the V.F.W., he was already among the costumed participants of the parade, who milled around adjusting each other’s wings or cloaks or headgear, receiving numbers for the judging, holding muffled conversation through their masks. As in the photos, the costumes were mostly good, some astoundingly so. Modern movie characters mingled with the old traditionals, the creative originals, the truly bizarre. There were vampires with flour-white faces and red lips, a mummy bound head to foot with toilet paper, and probably close to a hundred witches of all sizes. There was a wolf-man who looked more like a dog-man, fur spilling out through the tatters of his clothes. Clowns and fairies sashayed and floated. A woman in a rubber crone mask clung to the arm of an old-fashioned policeman; Conlin speculated on whether their pairing was supposed to mean something. He saw a hunchback, a pirate, a samurai . . . an ordinary-looking gentleman who walked deftly on three legs . . . a tall thing with red-flashing eyes and the wings of a gigantic moth. Twice, bobbing through the crowd, he glimpsed a kid made up to look like a hideous dwarf. Or maybe an ugly dwarf only lightly made up.”

And one more quote — this is the Invocation from Book I of Ovid’s The Metamorphoses:

“Now I shall tell of things that change, new being / Out of old: since you, O Gods, created / Mutable arts and gifts, give me the voice / To tell the shifting story of the world / From its beginning to the present hour.”

Ovid knew. The story of the world is the story of change, new springing out of the old. “The road goes ever on and on, / Down from the door where it began.” Tolkien sang it. Richard Adams told it: “The primroses were over.” We must make journeys; we must find new homes. We must reach new heights, for there is no going back, and the light is waning.

But this October, this Hallowe’en, acknowledges the wonder of it all, the glow at the heart of mystery. I’ll close off with the memory of one year’s Hallowe’en costume, and I invite you, readers, to tell your stories again. Tell us about your favorites — the time you dressed up and/or went trick-or-treating, and it worked the best and stays in your memory all these years later. (Jedibabe, if you’ll tell your funniest of all stories again, I’d be extremely grateful! You know the one I mean — enough blog years have passed now that it will be new to many, and a welcome retelling for the rest of us!) Tell us about your frightening, your original, your funny, your greatest triumph of transformation — or your dumbest failure. Tell us about pranks, nostalgia, memory — about dressing up for Hallowe’en!

Here’s my memory:

I had a really cool, full-head gorilla mask that my dad had ordered for me from a magazine, probably Famous Monsters of Filmland. But what can you do with only a mask? My mom knew what to do: she walked me the few blocks from our bookstore to the Goodwill, where in short order we found a long, black, fake-fur coat the exact hue and texture of the hair on the mask. A few coins paid . . . an evening of snipping and stitching, and voila! I had a full-body gorilla suit with arms and legs, completed by furry black mittens of Mom’s.

How fantastic our Hallowe’en Parade in my hometown used to be! Maybe my idealized memories of childhood are augmenting it, but I recall that it had something like a hundred entrants, both individuals and groups, and even floats pulled behind trucks and tractors. The best moment with my gorilla suit was when I made my grand entrance to the pre-Parade lineup. I had my parents park a block or two away and unleash me out of the car. As a gorilla, I shambled my way to where all the other participants were milling about, getting their numbers to wear for the judging. I came around the corner by Memorial School (you’ve seen it as Barad-dur in Tolkien’s cover for The Return of the King) . . . I walked north toward the post office, into the crowds. When I appeared under the pale glow of the first streetlight, there were some satisfying wide-eyed glances. There was a gasp or two, a nudge, a whisper. I don’t think it’s just the embellishment of memory — I think some people actually shrank away from me. Because you see, I wasn’t a six-year-old kid in a costume. I was a gorilla. I was King Kong, lurching out of a black October night.

It’s a great holiday. Please, friends of the blog, tell us your stories! Any Hallowe’en story is fair game, but “costumes” is a good theme to work with. Happy October!

13 Responses to Fear and Wonder

  1. My dad, Phil Martin, was asked year after year to judge this spectacular since he was the senior high art instructor. The prize money was unreal for a town of 8,801, so it really brought out all the creative, crazy, craved crafters. You’re right, you could see every twisted fantasy, to your heart’s delight that night in the heart of our old hometown… in a time when every storefront was filled with a locally-owned and run business [like your parents’.] Wraiths in the night – one night a year, encouraged and condoned by city fathers – – what a concept!

    • fsdthreshold says:

      Thank you, Chris! I hadn’t known that your dad was a judge all those years, but I remember what an amazing art instructor he was! Yes, the prize money for the parade was very good! I remember winning some for that gorilla costume, and years later, when I dressed up as Gandalf, which the local paper reported as “an Old Man.”

  2. Holly J. Beard says:

    This parade was always so much fun! My favorite costume was my attempt at Medusa. I actually pinned rubber worms to an old gray wig of my grandmothers. I wore a black tunic to the floor and draped old cloth all around my shoulders as to appear ghoulish. My make up was bone white with darker circles around my eyes sinking them into my face. It was the first costume I had total control over – Mom just said “do whatever you want” – so that I did. Didn’t win any contests, but it made the parade loads of fun!

    • fsdthreshold says:

      Holly, that’s so cool! I love the idea of the worms-and-hair wig! What a great costume! I remember how much I wanted the parade to go on and on. I think it went around the Square three times — right? I wanted it to go more!

      • Holly J. Beard says:

        Yes – you’re right. And by the way – I thought your Snoopy get up in the school play was pretty creative too. Enjoy Halloween, Fred!

  3. Jedibabe says:

    Another great post Fred. I’ve never had your beautifully romantic view of Halloween, but year by year you win me over. I’ll be happy to retell my story, maybe even add my other good costume story, but it’ll have to wait a few days. My car was recently broken into in Spokane, WA and my computer and iPad were stolen. I’ve ordered a used computer and it should arrive this coming Tuesday. For now I’m pecking away on my phone and it drives me nuts. So now I’ll have everyone’s fun comments to remind me and I’ll be back soon. Happy fall, y’all!

    • fsdthreshold says:

      Jedibabe, I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot here. In my enthusiasm, I only remembered how I’d laughed so hard at your costume story a few years back, and I wanted to “hear” it again and remind you how much we all loved it. I knew about that incident of the stolen computer, and I’m so sorry about that — I feel like a jerk. Please accept my apology!

      • Jedibabe says:

        Absolutely no reason you should feel bad Fred. I’m happy to retell the tale once I’m back in the game. I just wanted you to know I read the post, loved it and was slow in response for a reason. It tickles me to retell that story and I should have it up by the end of the week, I sincerely hope

  4. Marquee Movies says:

    I’ll tell a really pointless and very embarrassing Halloween memory, but first:
    A) Nice use of the word “penumbral.” I had fun looking it up, and look forward to looking it up again when I see it in some science journal in ten years.
    B) Your wife calling your beliefs around this time of year your “theology of October”? Perfect.
    C) That picture of the fire is very cool – interesting coloring of the flames – but what is that round shape in the upper left hand corner? And how did you cook your hot dogs? On long forks? Sounds fantastic! Oh, and pretty nice backyard!
    D) I also think Fear is not the first emotion, but I do feel that it is a highly influential emotion, very primal, and far more prevalent in our every-day decision making process than we think. Fear plays a HUGE role in politics and advertising, for instance. The Irish say that “Fear is the enemy of love.”
    E) Jedibabe, that makes me sick that that happened to you. I’m so sorry!
    OK – here’s my silly memory. This particular Halloween, I was in junior high. I might even have been a freshman. (I just looked it up – I WAS a freshman.) That’s old enough that if I did decide to trick or treat, I would just go without a costume and demand candy, like a shrimpy thug with pimples. What made me wonder if I WOULD trick or treat was this devastating fact – The Dukes of Hazzard was on that night. This posed a serious dilemma, for obvious reasons. (Why oh why did Halloween have to fall on a Friday?!?) But wait – it was a rerun, so that’s good news, right? Actually, no. (As a kid, if I loved a show, I loved it new OR rerun.) What made it ten times more difficult was the fact that it was the episode where Bo and Luke are thought to be dead. I LOVED this episode, mostly because we get to see Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane and Boss Hogg, the Duke brothers’ mortal enemies, express sorrow for the death of the Duke boys. I still remember Boss Hogg saying, in a halting voice, some words about how sad he was that the boys were gone. This was HUGE to me. (I told you this memory was going to be embarrassing!) Later in the episode, Bo and Luke “haunt” Boss Hogg and Rosco P. Coltrane, sounding and then looking like ghosts, leading to funny and dopey scaredy-cat moments, like when Curly or Lou Costello get scared. But the real highlight were the moments of tenderness from the guys who were the enemies of the Dukes. So – THAT was the episode on Halloween night! (Quite appropriate, it now occurs to me.) And from the moment I learned this horrible fact by reading the TV guide in the Sunday Chicago Tribune, to Halloween afternoon, I was torn. I mean, I LOVED The Dukes of Hazzard, but I also LOVED scamming free candy and having a treasure trove of it just sitting around the house for a few weeks. The obvious solution would have been to go before the show, right? Well, considering my age and the fact that I wasn’t doing a costume, I knew I had to wait until after dinner when it was dark, but still not too late. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do until just before 7:00. I may have even watched a few minutes of it, before the lure of free candy led me to the suburban streets. What makes this particularly memorable is how (here’s the embarrassing part) MATURE I felt walking away from this beloved TV show. I remember thinking, “Wow, you’re really skipping The Dukes of Hazzard for this – you are really growing up.” All while, yes, trick or treating. As far as costumes – my mother made these FABULOUS robot costumes for my brothers and me one year. Large cardboard boxes spray painted silver, with painted dials and buttons. Our arms and legs were silver too, but I don’t remember how she did that – but we were quite the sight that wonderful Halloween afternoon.

    • fsdthreshold says:

      Thank you, Marquee! First, “penumbral” was just the way the Internet described the eclipse — I can’t take credit for that word.

      The round shape in the photo is just a log. We had three logs forming a “tunnel” of fire, all the walls and ceiling glowing with heat.

      Yes, we cooked the hot dogs on long forks. And we had metal lawn chairs with cushions. It was a very cool evening at the fire, mostly alone, but with some family visits, too — the best of both worlds!

      I love the story you told! Thank you! So fascinating . . . the decision to go trick-or-treating was the grownup decision . . . yes, that’s right! 🙂

  5. NO ONE, by which I mean NO ONE, had better Hallowe’en costumes than Fred. In Taylorville trick-or-treat was held on two consecutive nights; the real trick was to figure out witch night to stay home and hopefully catch your friends and witch night to go to their homes. No matter how you tried to arrange it, you always seemed to miss. Fred needs to tell the blog about his C-3PO get-up!

    • fsdthreshold says:

      This is kind of you to say, Mr. Brown! I like how you spelled “witch” in honor of the season, you sly one!

      The C-3PO was fun. As I recall, that was one for school. (I usually had to make three costumes per year, so I could be more personas — one for school, one for the parade, and one for trick-or-treating.) For Threepio, I had another of those wondrous full-head latex masks ordered from a film monsters catalogue. I used coffee cans with the bottoms cut out to make myself jointed arms and legs, all covered with gold paper, and some kind of chest-piece that featured a yellow coffee-can lid.

      There were some fun costumes: the shark in Jaws, paired with R.H.’s Chief Brody aboard the Orca; a green great dragon, paired with my mom’s knight (although she was much bigger than me at the time); a Skull-Bearer from The Sword of Shannara (THAT one was creepy!); a three-legged man; the gorilla; Gandalf the White; Sinbad . . .

      Anyway, tonight I wanted to share with you this link. Our friend Nick has put up a kind of dialogue between him and me on the BLACK GATE web site. If you love Hallowe’en, it’s worth a look:

      http://www.blackgate.com/2013/10/21/oz-and-frederic-s-durbin-discuss-halloween-monsters/

      Thank you, Nick!

  6. fsdthreshold says:

    My new town has a very cool Hallowe’en Parade — it was tonight! It was much bigger than what has become of the parade in recent years back in my hometown. So I guess I moved to the right place!

    This one goes from end to end of the town; there’s not a Square to go around and around on. It features lots of area bands, homecoming courts, churches, and floats of various kinds, many of them really well done!

    One great thing was that our church (with whom I walked, in costume) was almost at the very front. So when we finished, Julie and I walked back along the sidewalk and got to see most of the parade as spectators, too — the best of both worlds!

    One of the high-school bands had all their flag girls dressed as identical witches twirling brooms! The drum major looked like Dumbledore, and the band was all wearing Hogwarts-esque robes.

    But the best costume we saw was the following, when the parade was winding down, and shadows were deepening again in the main street, but the crowds were only beginning to disperse:

    It was partly some sort of puppet controlled by the wearer. The dark made it creepier. The effect was of some black-clad, spindly, ghoulish person about eight feet tall, with a shaggy, misshapen head. It was walking around on real legs, but the long, too-thin arms were clearly of the puppet variety, and I suppose the wearer’s real face was peering out of the costume figure’s chest. But the arms were quite articulate, handing something to or else sort of grasping at an awestruck child on the sidelines. And it was so well put together that I couldn’t tell where puppet left off and real person began–delightfully eerie!

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