E. Michael Jones posits the original yet highly plausible thesis that the genre of “horror” is a psychological outgrowth of the repression of moral sensibilities occurring since the shift away from Judeo-Christian values after the Enlightenment. His sweeping historical argument begins with Mary and Percy Bysshe Shelley’s philosophical grounding in the tenets of the French Revolution, especially in the sexually permissive aspects of it. Frankenstein is Mary’s symbolic expression of her painful disillusionment regarding the efficacy of that materialist moral foundation and is the beginning of the genre of horror which has grown to become the quintessential psychological expression of the painful results of Enlightenment mores and values. An original and evocative book which also encompasses the vampire tradition, Monsters captures the imagination as it persuades. Extensively backed up with historical notes, examples from film and fiction, and a creative yet highly persuasive thesis.
Why are people intrigued with horror and – why do we like to be afraid? Why do many of us like to feel that thrill, that dropping out of the stomach from underneath us, that sense that all around us is out of control? The answer, I believe, is not that we like genuine fear. What we do find gratifying is to experience a simulacrum fear when we can control it, and when we know it’s not real. Ok, that makes sense, and it probably seems obvious once you hear it. But then the question is – Why? What makes most of an entire nation want to watch Hitchcock’s 1960 movie, Psycho, or more recently, become obsessed with zombies, vampires and even aliens? And what do these works, along with countless others, all have in common?
According to E. Michael Jones, the desire for horror arises from our societal rejection of morality due to the influence of the French Revolution; this rejection causes us to “sublimate” our innate sense of what is moral and immoral. This repression leaves us with a need to “let out” the guilt we feel from having sublimated our consciences. But this guilt must be expressed in curious ways because it will necessarily symbolically reveal the deep-set, hidden agony felt by those who deny their guilty consciences from themselves.
An important instance: Bram Stoker’s ”vampire” character is a symbolic reflection of sexual desires which are misdirected (perverted) both during and after the French Revolution Europe; the people, especially the more privileged, set the traditional moral order aside – this means that they threw aside the obligatory code that we should “love our neighbors as ourselves,” and instead, justified libertinism in the name of freedom and “The Revolution.” The vampire character is the persona of those whose sexual activities are purely self-oriented – the vampire takes and never gives, eternally seeking, but never finding satisfaction or true rest. Jones points out that Bram Stoker was known for his late-night sexual activities and theorizes that writing Dracula (and another thematically similar story, The Lair of the White Worm) is the author’s way of cathartically expressing subliminally what he does not acknowledge to himself: the repressed guilt of his immoral and decaying (literally – he appears to have had an STD) life; it rises to the surface through his fiction.
Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein, was the daughter of the most prominent feminist of the late 18th-19th century, Mary Wollstonecraft. Her mother lived the sexually liberated life of the revolutionary, first becoming pregnant with Mary’s elder stepsister, only to be abandoned by the playboy father and left in poverty in Paris. Wollstonecraft would later marry William Godwin, another man with revolutionary views, while pregnant with his daughter, Mary. As Jones says, young Mary imbibed the revolutionary philosophy of her mother and father, eloping at a young age with the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley while he was already married. This elopement appears to have consisted of a threesome with her stepsister, Fanny, who left with them, because this was what Shelley wanted. Later, another woman, Jane, was added to this menagerie. The results of this arrangement were ultimately devastating for the women who knew Shelley well. Just as Mary’s mother had attempted suicide, Shelley’s first wife Harriet, eventually tries and succeeds, as does Mary’s stepsister, Fanny.
While others have seen Frankenstein as a cautionary tale about the dangers of technology run amuck, Jones posits that the character of “The Monster” functions at a more subterranean level. The attempt of the French Revolutionaries and their followers was to “remake” human nature according to their imaginations, and this particularly includes jettisoning traditional sexual mores. Mary is in the unhappy position of philosophically assenting to this belief, both because she was brought up with it, and because Shelley enthralls her at a young age and continues to assert it during their long relationship.
Jones’ book posits with substantial evidence that while with Percy, Mary Shelley read (probably Percy’s copy of) the Marquis de Sade’s Justine, a pornographic fictional story banned in most countries but a copy of which was owned by Percy. While the poet may have swayed Mary to participate in such sexual deviancy, her own personal experience with him over time, even evidenced by some of her writings, reveals that this lifestyle and belief system did not end well for her, but instead concluded with the pain of knowing betrayal as a way of life.
Throughout his book, Jones draws in significant aspects of important horror movies, doing a deep dive into interpreting their influence, beginning with the original Nosferatu in 1922, and tracing up to recent times. The thread is clear and often frightening because his analysis makes an almost airtight case for the argument that most of these films are, indeed, about the disastrous, societally apocalyptic results of rampant sexual deviation. In the case of some movies, such as Alien, the case is obvious.
For insight into the positive effects of that era, especially in the area of Christianity, I recommend Andrew Klavan’s recent book, The Truth and Beauty. However, that is the topic for a different article. If you want to have a “deep think” about the genre of horror, its roots, and its influence on society, I highly recommend Monsters from the Id.
Jones briefly mentions that some of the Romantic authors such as Wordsworth (and others) eventually reject outright the philosophy of French Revolution; they see first-hand what it creates and more importantly – destroys. In my opinion the Romantic Era was a genuine and justified push-back against the materialism which had developed since The Enlightenment; how this reaction was expressed was highly dependent upon the worldview of each specific author.
Monsters from the Id: The Rise of Horror in Fiction and Film can only be found on the E. Michael Jones site: https://www.fidelitypress.org/about-the-author, or at a used bookstore. I found that the used bookstores online charged more than E. Michael does on his site.
Author: Cindy C. Lange December, 2023
know: In pride and a desire for importance, Dr. Frankenstein creates a nameless creature known only as “The Monster” out of the body parts of corpses, and through a vague sort of electrical process he animates the monster.
So the story is both a psychological insight into a person who is rejected by society – an outsider – and a monolithic statement about the devastation which occurs when man tries to play God. As the plot progresses we trace The Monster through his agonies: he attempts many times to connect with others, but eventually the continuous rejection he experiences fosters a pain in his heart so great that his bitterness turns him towards hatred and a revenge so all-encompassing that The Monster becomes a murderer. He then seeks reparation from his creator for the very act of his creation, murdering Frankenstein’s best friend, his fiancé, and his brother when Frankenstein will not cooperate with his demand to create a wife/companion for him.
reveals the depth of her understanding of the ultimate consequences in a society which was already rejecting the spiritual and sacred meanings of what it means to be human. She did, indeed, predict the future.
when I reread it, I choke up, no matter how much I’ve prepared myself beforehand for the moving conclusion.
Freshfirecoal 