The Horror Of Uncertainty: Risk Revealed
For as long as tales have been told, human beings have been trying to strike terror into each other’s hearts.
From the ghost stories of writers like M.R. James to more modern proponents of the art like Katherine Silva, the objective has been to send shivers down the spine and to create fear about what lurks in the dark or just around the corner.
It’s not just the written word. Horror on screen also shares these tropes, whether it’s a more literary adaptation like Alfred Hitchcock’s version of The Birds, very loosely based on the Daphne Du Maurier short story, or made-for-the-screen shockers like Nightmare on Elm Street.
There is also the theory that horror as a genre thrives when the world is undergoing uncertain times, something that is undeniably true today. The reason: when we are feeling uncertain and exposed to risk, it adds a certain extra edge and piquancy to tales of horror and degradation.
As to what kinds of personality types are attracted to the horror genre, there may well be a strong correlation between those who are attracted to risk, if not actually being fascinated by it. Although not in itself a horror story, Luke Rhinehart’s 1971 novel The Dice Man centred around a psychiatrist who decided to run his life based on decisions made by the roll of a dice.
This led the central character to some very dark places indeed, and it may be this teetering on the edge of the abyss that many of us find so beguiling.
Of course, risk doesn’t always equate with incipient disaster. In many circumstances it can mean quite to opposite. Take the example of playing games of chance. Part of the excitement comes from not knowing what the outcome will b,e but hoping for a win.
Today, for many people, this means playing in online casinos having first searched for the latest online casino bonuses Canada. They very much hope that they will win, but it’s the added frisson that things may not quite go their way that adds that extra sense of uncertainty.
The psychology of horror
It’s this sense of uncertainty that lies at the very heart of horror, and this is the case for both the characters involved in the story that’s being told and those of us who are watching, reading, or listening.
In a perfect world, events are predictable and the people around us behave in an expected way. When this fails to happen, we are liable to lose our equilibrium. In short, we crave patterns and control. So much so that we look for patterns even where they may not exist at all.
To take this back to gambling, it’s a common fallacy amongst players that the numbers of the cards will be playing out in a predictable sequence when, in fact, randomness rules.
Unfortunately, if horror relied on the predictable and risk-free, it simply would not be horrifying. Not only that, as a consumer of horror, think about the pleasure that we receive when we see a character in the story take a risk. They may be choosing to open a door, not quite knowing what’s on the other side of it, or deciding to make their own way home rather than accepting a lift from a friend.
Or, in the case of a story like Shirley Jackson’s 1948 short story The Lottery, characters know exactly the risk they are facing but have no option but to go through with it. The infamous tale about a village where one random inhabitant was ritually slaughtered each year may have had its origins in the author’s own insecurity about risk.
To look for a moment at the motivation many people have when deciding to watch a horror movie, this, too, is rooted in embracing risky behaviour. First, there is the very present danger that what we are about to see may well be traumatising and which may well haunt our thoughts and dreams for some time to come.
Once safely ensconced in our seats, popcorn in hand, there follows a series of risk-laden events. Will the aforementioned character make those wrong decisions and end up in a dangerous, even fatal, situation? The answer, of course, is that they most definitely will. We know this will be the case, but are still able to suspend our belief long enough to make the action gripping. So when the inevitable jump-shock comes, we may be subconsciously aware that it’s on the way, but we jump all the same.
Psychologists agree that embracing the darker and more dangerous parts of life in fictional form helps us to deal with real-world fears. Whether they also help us to develop a more balanced approach to risk is very much still up for debate.
