Book Review: Feeding the Monster by Anna Bogutskaya

Feeding the Monster

Everyone has a foundational horror. It’s the image that seeps under our psyche and won’t let go, transforming the film and the image of horror itself into an avatar for our biggest fear. Take a moment and remember yours. – Anna Bogutskaya, Feeding the Monster

Feeding the Monster

My love of horror stems from two sources. One, you will not be surprised to hear, was Stephen King. I would suspect that at least 70% of horror enthusiasts came to their love of the genre by picking up a Stephen King novel at an inappropriately young age. For me, it was The Dark Half

My other formative horror experience was Friday the 13th. I didn’t see it in full at the time; I certainly wasn’t allowed to watch it. I was about ten years old, at my friend’s house, getting ready to go out to dinner with her family. But then her sister accidentally slammed her fingers in the car door, and so instead of a trip to a restaurant it was a trip to the hospital, and a hastily-engaged babysitter arriving to the house to look after my friend and me. The babysitter decided to watch Friday the 13th, and so did we, hiding behind the couch and running out of the room every time she caught us. 

One of the things I love about horror is how personal it is. Something that terrifies one person can leave another completely unmoved. For years I refused to sleep in a room with a mirror I could look into from my bed, an unnamed fear I could not explain but which mystified my best friend, although she kindly agreed to reposition the furniture to accommodate me.

But equally true, horror is universal. There are certain fears that are found across eras, across cultures, and if there’s something you are afraid of it is certain that there is someone else in the world who shares the same fear. 

In Feeding the Monster: Why Horror Has a Hold on Us, Anna Bogutskaya looks at the past decade in horror film, television, and literature, exploring why so many of us love the genre so much. She divides the book into five categories: fear, hunger, anxiety, pain, and power. Some aspects offer examples of our worries, and some explanations for our enjoyment. 

The book is less dense than similar deep dives like King’s classic Danse Macabre or the recent American Scary by Jeremy Dauber and instead offers a more conversational take on the subject. But this doesn’t take away from its overall thesis. It’s full of academic and cultural analysis, and rife with examples, augmented with casual, often humorous footnotes: 

*Would I eat human flesh if Mads Mikkelsen, clad in a tailored velvet suit, with his sleeves rolled up, served it to me on an elegant, dark porcelain platter, adorned with radishes and romaine lettuce? I don’t know! It’s all very confusing! Don’t look at me. – Anna Bogutskaya, Feeding the Monster

Much has been said about the way vampire stories always seem to experience a renaissance during economic recessions, and there are obvious reasons that there have been a plethora of films about the horror of unwanted pregnancies released over the past few years, but Bogutskaya also makes strong arguments in terms of placing the popularity of other horror tropes into our current cultural context. How cannibalism, for example — from Hannibal to Bones and All to Yellowjackets, often reflects the loneliness and isolation of modern life, as well as the anxieties of capitalism and class struggle. Do we eat the rich? Or do the rich eat us?  

Do be warned, as the author makes clear in the introduction, that this book contains copious spoilers for the media she uses as evidence for her arguments. However, I think that she does a solid job of writing about the books, films, and tv shows in a way that does not damper my enthusiasm for reading or watching the the ones I haven’t yet. I didn’t find the amount of spoilers overwhelming, as mostly they teased rather than revealing all. 

(I did think it was funny that the only spoiler Bogutskaya redacts is one for Game of Thrones, a show whose cultural cache has sunk so much following its final season that I doubt most people who haven’t seen it yet would care). 

While there were a few omissions that I thought deserved a mention (as other reviews have pointed out, for example, it’s surprising not to see Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica included in examining the current popularity of cannibalism stories), overall I found this to be a solid exploration of contemporary horror and why we love it. Feeding the Monster is an ideal pick for those looking for a fresh and readable work that still offers a strong academic thesis on our fears and our favorite fearful fictions. 

Best Picture 2023: My Oscar Thoughts & Ranking

I don’t have a great track record of watching all the Oscar nominated films in a year. I have friends who make it a mission to see every nominated film, but I usually only manage to see a couple here and there. For reference, I’ve seen six of last year’s 10 Best Picture nominees (and Nightmare Alley I only saw recently, rather than when it was in its nomination period), three of 2020’s seven, six of nine in 2019, and five of 2018’s eight (six if you count half-watching Green Book on someone else’s screen on a flight, which is probably the maximum amount of attention you really need to pay to Green Book). The most recent year for which I’ve seen all the Best Picture nominees was 2008 (which is also the year before they expanded the maximum from five to 10).

But this year, when I realized that just in the course of general moviegoing, I had seen six of the 10 Best Picture nominees, I decided to try and watch the whole slate. As of last night I’ve seen all 10 nominees, and although I won’t be watching the ceremony tonight (because staying up until four a.m. for what will inevitably be many cringeworthy jokes about The SlapTM isn’t my idea of a good time), here is my ranking and thoughts on the list:

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Best Horror of 2022

In my opinion, 2022 was a fantastic year for horror. With excellent horror films of every type being released in cinemas and on streaming, from the artistic and beautiful to the gory and intense, from creative new takes on stale franchises to innovative, out-of-the-box concepts, there was always something new and frightening to watch. It was a great year for horror literature as well, with terrifying anthologies, spooky stories of all sorts, and classics told in fresh and exciting ways.

If you’re looking to bring the scares in 2023, here are my favourite horror films from 2022 and my favourite horror books read in 2022 (some old and some new):

Best horror films of 2022 (Follow me on Letterboxd!)

Bones and All, dir. Luca Guadagnino

Who would have thought a film about cannibalism could be so tender (pun not intended)? This delicate, haunting, horrifying film was not only my favourite horror film of the year, but one of my favourites of any genre. As outsiders from society, finding solace in each other as they satisfy their urges (the story can be read as a both queer allegory and one of addiction,), this film is all about contrast. The central couple’s intimacy with each other contrasts with the wide open landscapes of the cinematography and setting. The soundwork contrasts the gnashing, gnawing sharpness of their actions with the quietness of the solitude around them. And the contrast between the final two shots are as emotional as they are gutting.

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Scannáin na hÉireann

Long before I ever stepped foot in Ireland, I’ve loved Irish literature. When I was a kid, I had an audiobook on cassette tape with a number of classic ghost stories, including Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Canterville Ghost’, which I listened to incessantly. In college, I found a love for Irish plays as well, reading several (including Translations by Brian Friel, which became an all-time favourite) in a historically-focused theatre course. Naturally, this played into my motivations for applying to an MA in Literature & Publishing in Galway, and once I moved over I discovered so many wonderful contemporary Irish authors from Donal Ryan to, of course, Sally Rooney.

Ireland has an outsized cultural influence, with an incredible amount of internationally-acclaimed art in every medium considering the relatively small size of the country. Some of the world’s best poets, musicians, and more hail from the Emerald Isle. And as I’ve lived here I’ve gotten to know a lot of work by artists of different types.

But one medium that I feel has passed me personally by a bit for the most part is Irish cinema. I’ve seen a few of the most well-known Irish films across a number of genres — The Commitments, Once, The Wind that Shakes the Barley, The Quiet Man — but there are far more iconic Irish films that have passed me by. On this list, for example, I’ve only seen six.

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Media and Misc of the Year (aka the obligatory Best of 2014 review post)

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Films

  1. Boyhood, dir. Richard Linklater – Filming over 12 years could have turned out gimmicky, but Boyhood was a moving and beautiful story of family and growing up. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so emotional while watching a film.
  2. Calvary, dir. John Michael McDonagh – The preview for this Irish film made it out to be a dark comedy, but despite actors such as Dylan Moran, Chris O’Dowd, and even star Brendan Gleeson (in maybe his best ever work), it’s a heartwrenchingly dark film with moments of humour.
  3. The Grand Budapest Hotel, dir. Wes Anderson – I’ve loved every film I’ve seen of Anderson’s, but for some reason hadn’t watched one since The Life Aquatic. This was a good place to start back, with his typical aesthetic and great performances.
  4. Gone Girl, dir. David Fincher – I read the book in one frantic weekend before seeing the film, and the twists and turns and madness of it all still shocked me. Though not as much as it shocked the person sitting behind us who couldn’t stop saying “What the fuck” at the end.
  5. Obvious Child, dir. Gillian Robespierre – A sweet, funny little film about a stand-up comedian who gets pregnant and has an abortion. The characters feel like your friends.

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Music

  1. The Antlers, Familiars – This album is one of those where the sound just fills the room when you listen to it. There are so many layers combining beautifully with strange, sad lyrics.
  2. Alt-J, This is All Yours – Speaking of strange, among other oddities Alt-J’s second album samples Miley Cyrus, and somehow it really works. They also put on one of the top 3 live shows I saw this year (and in fairness, the top 2 are my favourite bands, The National and Arctic Monkeys).
  3. St. Vincent, St. Vincent – I’m declaring this the year of the excellent self-titled album. And St. Vincent’s is the best of them, with an album that is both strange and wonderful.
  4. Hozier, Hozier – You’ve probably been hearing “Take Me to Church” all the time for the past 6 months, unless you’re in Ireland in which case you’ve been hearing it all year. And it hasn’t gotten old yet.
  5. Taylor Swift, 1989 – Part of me can’t believe that Taylor Swift of all people is bumping my forever girl Shakira off my Best Of list, but most of me thinks that “Blank Space” is such a jam I don’t even care.

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April/May Microreviews

January microreviews
February microreviews
March microreviews

Books:

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IV, Chuck Klosterman: Chuck Klosterman does the kind of journalism I would love to do. Funny, sarcastic pop culture essays with smart commentary on the impact of entertainment on society. I’ll always point to his essay on The Real World as one of the best I’ve read. This collection was decent; the non-fiction was great, the semi-fiction was okay, and the fiction was barely worth reading. I particularly enjoyed the profile of Morrissey’s hispanic fans and the one about tribute bands.

The World’s Wife
, Carol Ann Duffy: I love Carol Ann Duffy’s poems and their clever, feminist slant. The World’s Wife is a perfect example. Duffy writes from the perspective of the wives and lovers of famous historical and literary figures: how does King Midas’ touch affect his marriage? or alters the stories to give women more agency than in their original tellings.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane
, Neil Gaiman:  I read this book over the course of two days; whenever I needed a break from wandering around London I would take advantage of the comfortable sofas in the Piccadilly Circus Waterstones and curl up for a few minutes with this book. It’s a beautiful little fairy tale about monsters and magic and growing up.

Salt: A World History
, Mark Kurlansky: I may be sick of Mark Kurlansky by the time I finish writing my thesis as one of his books is a major source I’m using, but in the meantime I loved reading this. He looks at a common material—salt—and through evidence and anecdote, explores its impact on history and contemporary life and food in an interesting and entertaining way.

The Little Friend
, Donna Tartt: Not as good as The Secret History and certainly not as good as The Goldfinch, but a book can still be pretty excellent with both of those things being true. I didn’t find myself caring much for the central mystery, which is good because I also didn’t find much resolution, but it was all the little pieces of southern gothic description and all the side stories about minor figures and all the miscellaneous everything else that I really enjoyed.

Paper Towns, John Green: Paper Towns is known for being a story that points out the ridiculousness of the idea of the so-called “Manic Pixie Dream Girl.” I found it to be mostly successful in this regard, but it would’ve been more effective if it had been from the perspective of the girl, rather than about her. Still, a quick and fun read.

Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann: I absolutely loved this. Set in 1974, while Philippe Petit crossed the World  Trade Center towers on a tightrope, the novel features characters from all walks of live, and the city of New York itself is as strong a character as any of them. It’s a beautiful book, and one I look forward to reading again in the future.

Live by Night
, Dennis Lehane: I didn’t realise that this was a sequel of sorts to The Given Day until I started reading it, but instead of the sprawling historical novel and social commentary of its predecessor, Live by Night is a fast-paced crime story more in line with Lehane’s other detective works.

Bark: Stories, Lorrie Moore: Whenever you can finish a book in one sitting you have to assume that a) it’s not very long but b) it is very good. The first two stories didn’t entirely hook me, but by the time I got to ‘Paper Losses’ I knew I wasn’t moving until I had gotten to the end. Luckily it was a beautiful day outside. The descriptions were visceral and the relationships devastating.

Werewolves in their Youth, Michael Chabon: I shouldn’t have read this immediately after Bark, I don’t think. Too many  stories about relationships facing harsh realities. Michael Chabon is one of my favourite authors, and this isn’t his best work. There were still moments and sentences that really resonated, but overall I didn’t find the stories or characters as memorable as in most of his books.

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