John Armellino
ERH 206
Major Knepper
2/23/15
“It Follows Trailer Analysis”
The trailer that I am doing my analysis on is for the film It Follows. The film, written and directed by David Robert Mitchell, is a recently released one. It is a horror film that does not seem to rely on gore or jump scares (at least not many) to disturb its audience. Instead this film plays on the viewers’ paranoia. The film has an overwhelming sense of the uncanny. Seemingly innocent things and places become menacing. The threat is always right around the corner, and we, nor the main characters, have any idea when or where it will strike. It could be anyone, and so the whole world becomes a hunting ground, and the main character the unwitting prey. This film plays on cultural fears about innocence lost, sexual assault, and a sense of impending doom, of futility. The atmosphere of helplessness is heavy, and the audience is made to watch a nightmare unfold that could seemingly happen to anyone.
The plot focuses on Jay, a nineteen year-old girl who goes on a date and has what starts as an innocent, simple sexual encounter with a “cute guy.” Obviously things take a turn for the worst faster than you can hit the escape button. Jay is knocked out and tied up by the boy, who dutifully informs her of the nightmare that is now following her. He has passed onto her, through sex, a curse. Until she can pass it on to someone else, Jay will be followed by “it,” a malevolent entity that always knows where she is, and is always, slowly and steadily, walking toward her exact location. She can run, but she literally cannot hide. What will “it” do if (or when) it catches up to her? That is left to our imagination. The enigmatic entity can change its appearance to look like anyone. “It could look like someone you know, or it could be a stranger in a crowd.” The creature is always just out of focus when seen. It is always a blur, always a mystery. Like the sinking feeling of paranoia one gets when they feel they are being watched, “it” is always a dreadful, crushing presence.
This is where the factor of the uncanny comes in. “It” can look like anyone, meaning it could be anyone. There is no escaping it, because it does not “think,” “feel,” or “give up.” It just keeps walking. There is no fighting it, just passing it on. Jay will be forced to make someone else a victim, or suffer the fate of whatever “it” has planned for her. One can see this plot as an allegory for sexual assault, STDs, and the cycle of abusive violence found in many homes. “It” may not be the problem, but rather a symptom of it, a curse born of our own malignant imaginations, fueled by our fears and brought to life to punish humanity. But, I am getting ahead of myself.
From what I can see in the trailer, It Follows does a terrific job of creating a world of pure dread. The empty streets, the crowds, everything seems hostile. The main character’s sense of impending doom is felt through the build up of a synthesized soundtrack, which grows more and more tense as the trailer goes on. The eighties style synth music feels artificial, unnatural, like a dream turned nightmare. Like Poe in many of his works, the time period and location are never mentioned or readily apparent to us. We get the feeling that this could happen anywhere, at anytime, to anyone. That may be the true horror of It Follows.

Link to the trailer here:

John Armellino

ERH 206
Major Knepper
4/3/15
Option 2
The historian Louis Dupré stated, “What is uniquely Romantic… is that a person can become a question to himself.” If this statement is about literature, then I see no greater proponents (at least indirectly) of the theory than Edgar Allan Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Their works are always sure to curiously poke at the mysterious inner workings of the narrators/main characters. Two specific works come to mind: Hawthorne’s “My Kinsman, Major Molineux” and Edgar Allan Poe’s “Hop-Frog.” In both these works the main characters display abnormal behavior, they do things that is not in line with their previous behavior. Robin (“Major Molineux”) and Hop-Frog (“Hop-Frog”) are both driven by extreme circumstance to engage in abnormal behavior and horrifying acts. I believe the authors were demonstrating the ability of the human mind to adapt to even the most terrible situations, and that Louis Dupré’s statement perfectly describes this particular genre of literature.
In “My Kinsman, Major Molineux” a young colonist named Robin is in Boston looking for the titular Major, who as a colonial governor, is a part of the British social elite. The Major is Robin’s wealthy uncle, and has promised the young man work. Now, the story is set during a time when many American colonists were not at all satisfied with their British benefactors. While looking for his kinsman, the young man is struck with the way the hardened Boston–dwellers treat him. While in Boston, he has “experienced little superfluous civility” that he gives and in turn expects from others. Robin is a naïve outsider with no idea that the citizens of Boston despise the Major and what he represents (the oppressive British). Robin seems to be wholly unaware of the plight of the American colonist against the British, which explains his being disturbed and intrigued by the hostility of those around him. After many strange episodes with the Boston locals, Robin finally discovers his “majestic” and stately uncle, the Major. When he finds him though, he is in a rather undignified and terrible situation. A rambunctious crowd of colonists is parading the violated body of Major Molineux, who has been through the awful process of being tarred and feathered, throughout the streets of Boston. The colonists are all cheering loudly and joyously until they at last reach Robin, where they fall silent. Taken by the shocking appearance of his disgrace kinsman, who recognizes Robin when he sees him, Robin begins to laugh uncontrollably, having been swayed by the maniacal crowd. After the ordeal, Robin asks an older gentleman he met earlier to guide him to the ferry, as in his eyes he no longer has a reason to stay in Boston. The gentleman beckons for Robin to stay and “rise in the world, without the help of your kinsman, major Molineux.”
What is unique about this work is that underneath the gothic horror and the light humor that is sprinkled throughout, it is a “coming of age story.” There is plenty of evidence to suggest that Robin and Molineux represent the colonies and Great Britain, respectively, but we will not be focusing on that. Instead, we will analyze the main character Robin as an ordinary individual thrust into an extraordinary situation.
Robin is a country boy. He is unaware of the workings of the city and of the general attitude of its people. As his search for Molineux continues, Robin displays extreme focus as well as naivety in the face of adversity. He rejects the advances of a prostitute, who at the very least offers the chance for shelter and comfort. Robin opts to continue his search for his uncle, even with no help. When finally arriving to find the gruesome scene of his uncle’s public torture, Robin is so “disillusioned” by the events of the night that he joins in on the crowd’s laughter. He surprises himself, his face is “somewhat pale” and he is startled easily. It is almost as if at that very moment, Robin was forced to grow up and realizes that he is now alone in a world he knows nothing about. He cannot rely on his well off uncle to assist him. The term “it takes a village to raise a child” comes to mind. Having been failed by his parents, Robin is properly educated in the violent ways of the world by the community of his new home, albeit all in one night. The “shrewd youth” has persevered through the story in search of help, but now realizes he is without any, and may not need it to survive. Ironically, Robin always thought of himself as capable, despite not being competent in this city setting. Now, when he learns how inexperienced he really is, Robin seems to have discovered the means to live without the support system of the wealthy Major. It is only when we acknowledge how little we know that we can begin to learn. Robin snapped in the face of the hostile crowd, and learned he was not as savvy and sophisticated as he thought he was.
“Hop-Frog” is a different beast. While it is told from a third-person perspective like “My Kinsman,” it is by no means a similar story (save for the fact that the main character is driven to display abnormal behavior). In an obnoxious and awful king’s court is the disfigured dwarf jester Hop-Frog. Hop-Frog, being the subject of abuse and ridicule by the king and his counselors is finally driven to the edge one day. Hop-Frog has a friend, a well-liked dwarf named Trippetta from the same country as himself. She uses her influence to help Hop-Frog whenever she can, but when Hop-Frog is forced to drink copious amounts of wine (which he knows he cannot handle well) by the king, Trippetta pleads directly with the king to show her friend some mercy and respect. The abuse Trippetta receives for daring to speak to the king in this way seems to spark Hop-Frog to destroy the “monster” and his companions. The wine drives Hop-Frog mad, and it seems that almost immediately after Trippettas abuse that he launches into his “scheme” to dress the king and his men into ourang-outang outfits and chain them up. The disturbing thing about this is I do not know if Hop-Frog has been planning this for sometime in his head, or if he improvised the gruesome scenario on the spot.
Both these theories have interesting implications. If Hop-Frog has already planned to burn the King and his counsel, then it appears the wine does indeed have an “instantaneous” effect upon the dwarf. This makes sense, considering Edgar Allan Poe’s growing alcoholism at the time of writing “Hop-Frog,” and the story’s somewhat autobiographical nature. But, I digress. It may be that Hop-Frog has always fantasized about murdering his tormentors but has lacked the constitution to perform the deed. It seems karmic that the wine drove Hop-Frog off the deep end after he was forced to drink it by the monstrous king.
The second, more disturbing theory (in my opinion) is that drinking the wine turned Hop-Frog into even more of a crazed, revenge-driven man than we thought he was. Perhaps immediately after drinking the wine, Hop-Frog improvised the scheme, having been turned into a monster seemingly instantaneously. This could be why Hop-Frog wishes to stay away from it. Either way, the wine seems to unlock some hellish impulse within the dwarf that even he does not understand nor wish to confront.
Although these two works are not all that similar, they do have something in common. Both the main characters are forced to confront some ugly truth about themselves and the world. Robin grows up fast to become an independent young man who don’t need no uncle (sorry). He also faces the mob mentality and succumbs to its power. The world and its denizens are not the obligatorily polite crowd he thought they would be. Hop-Frog is all too aware of how terrible the world is, but does not want to face it. More importantly, he seems to be vaguely aware of his own dark side, but only finds out how dark it is when the king forces wine upon him and strikes his dear friend. Both characters face the darkness within themselves after being confronted by the darkness of the world around them, and both have escaped their old lives, whether they wanted to or not.

Sources
“My Kinsman, Major Molineux.” Nathaniel Hawthorne. 1832.
“My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
“My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
“My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
American Romanticism, Virginia Commonwealth University. http://wp.vcu.edu/engl37212a/2012/02/07/my-kinsman-major-molineaux-hawthorne/
“My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
“Hop-Frog.” Edgar Allan Poe. 1845.
“Hop-Frog”
“Hop-Frog”
“Edgar Allan Poe, Drugs, and Alcohol.” http://www.eapoe.org/geninfo/poealchl.htm

Tag

I was inspired to write about these two stories because I found them both disturbing in their own unique ways. Hawthorne’s “My Kinsman” is an interesting take on the often over-simplified history of America’s revolution, in which nothing is as black and white as it seemed in early grade school. “Hop-Frog” is a satisfying revenge tale that I am afraid I may have enjoyed too much. It seems odd the sadistic pleasure a reader can take when imagining the awful king and his counsel being burnt to death. Not to be overly poetic, but it seems to reveal a darkness within ourselves as well as the main character.

John Armellino

American Literary Traditions

Major Knepper

2/20/15

The Uncanny

The uncanny is an important element of gothic literature, if not the most important. It is the key to taking a reader out of his or her comfort zone, and bringing a sense of fascination along with the disturbing. The website Merriam-Webster.com provides a decent definition of uncanny with which to start: “strange or unusual in a way that is surprising or difficult to understand.” To expand more on that brief definition, we could say that the uncanny combines elements of the familiar with those of the strange and foreign. This combination is something that at first glance may seem familiar, but upon examining it closely and it takes on an alien, sinister quality. It is something that is almost innocent and normal, but there is just something “off” about it. Uncanny objects have a mysterious quality about them, such as dolls and toys that are obviously modeled on humans, but look like no human ever. In gothic literature, the uncanny is an ever-present effect. Stories like Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death” and Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” both bring a sense of the uncanny pervading the atmosphere, albeit in their own unique ways.

“The Masque of the Red Death” and “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” have elements of the uncanny, and while different, are both similar in a few ways. Both stories have a strange feeling, like a heightened sense of reality. In other words, they have a surreal quality to them. Irving’s Sleepy Hollow has been described as foggy, with “a drowsy, dreamy influence hanging over the land.” It is almost as if the inhabitants of the village occupy their own separate plain of existence, a place outside of our reality, where ghosts are revered rather than feared. To outsiders like Ichabod Crane, and the reader, Sleepy Hollow may not always be frightening, but it is definitely always on the very edge of the bizarre. The customs are different, but not so different as to raise any alarms. And, perhaps this is only my perspective as a former city dweller, but the villagers of Sleepy Hollow seem just a little too friendly. When someone is exceedingly friendly for no reason, it always gives me the creeps, as if they are hiding something. Even the character Brom may have seemed friendly on the outside, but he was secretly hostile toward Crane, and was looking to get rid of him. Perhaps part of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’s” ability to be uncanny stems from not just the environment, but also the characters themselves, and their hidden motives.

While we are on the subject of secrets, the most uncanny part of “The Legend

of Sleepy Hollow” is that we do not know if the ghost of the headless horseman is

real, or if Brom is simply dressing the part to scare away Ichabod Crane. After all, he “was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter than he chose to tell.” It is certainly implied that Brom was the headless horseman that fateful night that Crane disappeared, but it is never confirmed nor denied. Most readers would agree that Brom was dressing as the ghost, but we all have in our heads the faintest idea that the Headless Horseman was present that night, that the ghosts haunting Sleepy Hollow do not simply live in the villager’s and Crane’s minds. That is all we need, that voice in the back of our head telling us: maybe that is a ghost, and maybe it is after you.

On the other hand is Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death.” Like Sleepy Hollow, it is a surreal and dreamlike world. The widely accepted interpretation that the characters, the rooms, and plague are all symbols reminds me of a vivid dream in which everything means something. The entire story feels like a nightmare brought on by our subconscious. It is familiar territory; a castle, a prince, a plague, all reminiscent of the Middle Ages, but it is not our Middle Ages. It is oddly foreign, as if it were a parallel universe. It is similar, but not the same.

Alternative to “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” this work’s streak of the uncanny is not because of the familiar made strange, but from the strange made familiar. Poe’s world in “The Masque of the Red Death” seems a little too surreal and unbelievable at first glance, what with all the crushing symbolism and one-dimensional characters. In a story in which nothing feels real, one cannot help but feel safe and secure. “It may be familiar, but it is not so familiar that I feel it could happen to me,” one could say. Even the plague, the most realistic part of the story, is turned into a walking symbol at the end of the story. Unless, of course, you were to look at the figure in red as not the plague or death personified, but as a person. The idea that a plague victim from outside the castle, somehow got inside makes one uneasy. A person dying of such a horrible illness arrived in a dreadful costume with the intent to kill. The amount of the hate and malevolence that it takes to do such a thing makes me shudder. Somehow this interpretation is more terrifying to me than the figure being the grim reaper. A commoner acts as death’s hand, and is almost like the grim reaper himself. All of a sudden the nightmare becomes a little too real, considering our current fear of contamination by diseases like Ebola.

The uncanny, a seemingly innocuous term, can take many forms, most if not all of which are terrifying. All it takes is the right kind of story, and our minds do the rest. Irving and Poe knew that when composing their greatest works. “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” and “The Masque of the Red Death” prove it.

Reflective Tag

This essay takes a look at two gothic stories: “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” and “The Masque of the Red Death.” Specifically, it takes a look at the uncanny, an important factor in any gothic story, and how these works make use of it. I like to think that I know quite a bit about the uncanny, and horror stories in general, so I drew from my unnecessarily large reservoir of knowledge of the horror genre to discuss what makes these stories unnerving. I looked at what scared me personally and found those elements within the two works. The only challenge was to make it comprehensible to someone reading it, meaning anyone who is not me.

Science became less about conjecture and more about strict empirical evidence. Rhetoric is persuasive speaking. In order to be persuasive, you need to be able to prove your point. That requires evidence. In modern science, nothing is conclusive until there is enough evidence. Even then, subjects are still debated with great enthusiasm.

Frederick douglass presentation

This presentation, which was done by Thomas Corbett and myself, is an extremely brief look at the life of Frederick Douglass. It covers all the essentials in a compact power point. Frederick Douglass’s birth, death, and major moments in his life are all briefly discussed.

Through doing the research for this presentation, I came across a lot more information about Frederick Douglass than I did when learning about him in high school (no real surprise there). I was, however, surprised to learn that he held political office. I would have scoffed at the idea of a former slave holding anything close to office during the 19th century, so improbable it seemed to me.

I do not know why but I remember glossing over this information about Douglass holding political office. It was definitely something of note, and I should have pointed out which offices he held and why. That goes for the rest of the presentation. I think there should have been a bit more detail about his life.

John Armellino

ERH-206WX-03

Major Knepper

2/13/15

Poem Analysis

“An Indian at the Burial Place of His Fathers” is a poem by William Cullen Bryant. It is a rather straightforward poem in its story and message. As the title so accurately points out, the entirety of the poem is set in an old Native American settlement, where the dead are buried. A visiting native, perhaps coming to pay his respects, narrates the poem. He laments the loss of his land and, more importantly, his people. Native Americans and their culture have been on steady decline after being persecuted by the United States government. Not only does the solitary native mourn the loss of his people, he mourns the loss of their spirit, and their world. It is an interesting perspective to be taken, especially when the poem was written. It allows European audiences to somewhat appreciate the pain experienced by Native Americans, while serving as a warning to future generations against claiming what is not theirs.

The narrator describes his people as “wasted” by the “pale race.” His meaning is clear; the “pale race” is no doubt the European settlers that have displaced the natives and took their land. Not only has their land been taken, but also the Native Americans are left “ashamed and weak.” There was no more of the proud tribe that lived in the once “nobler sight.” After all, the Natives lived in relative harmony with nature, and took care not to take too much, lest they forever alter or destroy the land as it was. The Europeans not only displaced or killed the narrator’s people, but they have killed their spirit, and are slowly taking the land and turning it into something foreign.

The white men have been taking land faster than the Native Americans have been able move. Almost like a curse, the Europeans “waste us-ay-like April snow in warm noon, we shrink away… Till they shall fill the land, and we are driven into the western sea.” The European settlements are inescapable and uncompromising. There is no peace, but one race or the other. As the Europeans take over, they turn the sacred lands of the narrator’s people into something else, something less noble. The land is being tamed. “Methinks it were a nobler sight, To see these vales in woods arrayed… And seamed with glorious scars…” Without his people, the land is being used purely as a resource, instead of coexisting with humans. While a European settler may see the land as beautiful in its new, “fresh and green,” form, the Native Americans saw it as more than just the sum of its usable parts. It was a part of them.

The poem does not end with this simple lamentation. The narrator says, “I behold a fearful sign… Their race may vanish hence, like mine.” Perhaps in the settler’s quest for dominance over his people and nature, they will destroy themselves. The land “may be a barren desert yet.” It is an interesting piece of poetic justice. It has been hundreds of years since European settlers started to destroy the Native Americans, and we as a modern nation are just getting over our guilt about their terrible treatment at the hands of our ancestors. Perhaps this spawned the now tried and true horror trope of a haunted house having been built over an old Indian burial ground. In books and movies Indian burial grounds has been the source of many a curse that usually threatens a white family. In a lot of these stories, the family is eventually forced to leave. Is this trope a projection of our guilt as a society? Perhaps we are finally beginning to recognize the warning that the narrator of the poem gives us. If we are to continue our ungrateful, greedy ways, the lands we need to survive may become a land of death and despair. It is almost as if this has been in the back of our minds for a long time now, and we are finally starting to realize it.

Interestingly enough, some may have recognized that European settlers have been moving too fast and with too little concern for the future. Washington Irving, author of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” (which was published in 1820) was arguably showing his concern for the short attention span that Americans seemed to have, as they were always looking to move on, claim new lands and their fortune. Ichabod Crane’s character not only moves from house to house, but from town to town, taking what is not his. It is reminiscent of settlers moving west. Ichabod Crane was also a cowardly man who feared the townspeople’s ghostly tales of the past. Irving’s ideal Americans were those who not only recognized our complicated, often bloody past, but also taught its lessons to future generations and lay the foundations for a strong society.

It is an interesting connection to make. Irving and Bryant seem to, at least to some degree, agree on the course that European settlers should take, and that is a slow one, one in which settlers appreciate where they are, not just where they are going. It seems that is the ultimate message of these works. Stories, which if one were to point out, were written during a time that Native Americans were still suffering tremendously at the hands of Europeans. It is remarkable to think that these two white, male authors are already feeling the guilt over crushing entire societies in the pursuit of happiness, especially when they have lived in a time when the Native Americans were thought of as sub-human “savages.” They recognized the truth. Bryant appropriately wrote a poem in which the readers view the world from a Native American’s perspective, which seems to be pretty rare. Now the predominantly white audience can experience a man mourning the death of his culture.