The Bluidie Tryst,
Sir Joseph Noel Patton,
Maybe it's because All Hallows Eve approaches, but people seem to have horror on their minds.
Both James and Angie define it primarily by the emotion evoked -- though I've read some political parables that would never be classified as Horror which made me feel very afraid.
Further, I was a bit astonished by a couple of reactions to Friday's snippit , ones which suggested the piece evoked the chill of horror.
Of course that may have just been polite perjury/message board hyperbole by kind people. And the piece is, after all, just a short snippit.
Outside of Poe and Lovecraft, I've never read much horror. And I certainly don't watch it.
And don't intend to write it.
But those comments made me wonder where one draws the dividing line between horror and -- to use a current and rather accurate publishing adjective -- something that's merely dark.
I tend to think of horror as a work that contains a randomness of evil on one hand, and relentlessness on the other. One that leaves me, directly or indirectly, with a sense of the inevitable defeat of good things.
Not gore 'n guts and lovingly described visera. Not the looming shadow on the wall. Not even could/would happen-to-me helplessness.
When evil triumphs -- that's true horror.
And that's what will scare me shitless every time.