Reflections on Faith and Horror

by James Wyatt

Our earth we now lament to see
with floods of wickedness overflowed,
with violence, wrong, and cruelty,
one wide-extended field of blood,
where men like fiends each other tear
in all the hellish rage of war.

—Charles Wesley, 1738

There are two facts about me which, taken in combination, tend to send a lot of eyebrows arching skyward. The first is straightforward enough: I really enjoy horror—not so much the modern slasher-flick breed of horror, but more the Gothic style of vampire and ghost story. IÕve managed to work some element of Gothic horror into many D&D games over the years, even in some very non-Gothic settings (ancient Rome, for example). I love Masque of the Red Death. I've had articles published on science-fiction horror, and I've done writing for the Ravenloft campaign setting.

The second fact about me, the one that fellow gamers tend to find odd, is that IÕm a former ordained minister. Several years ago, I served two small churches in rural Ohio. I can understand why this might be a source of confusion to gamers; IÕve puzzled over it myself. There were people in the churches I served who refused to observe Halloween, and there I was, filling my adventures with vampires and ghosts and fiends.

As I said, IÕve put some effort into reconciling these two facts about myself in my own head. My hope is that my effort can shed some light on the nature of Gothic horror and its relationship to gaming in a way that will be helpful to anyone who plays Ravenloft (or Call of Cthulhu, or other Gothic horror games), not just those who share my theological beliefs.

As I see it (and I know I will meet with disagreement here), Gothic horror is all about the conflict between good and evil. Yes, the world of Gothic horror is filled with apparent shades of grey, but at the heart of the literature is a villain of all-consuming evil faced off against a hero or, more often, a heroine of surpassing virtue.

As Eric Noah suggests in his article, ÒHitting the BooksÓ (DRAGON #212), the conflict between good and evil is a constant theme in fantasy literature in general. It is essential to Gothic horror role-playing, and one of the foundations of Ravenloft: ÒAll the dark elements—the suffocating horror, the seemingly insurmountable evil—would render this genre pointless without the ever-defiant forces of good to struggle through the endless nightÓ (Realm of Terror, page 11). Likewise, this idea is central to the Masque of the Red Death campaign, with tiny qabals of good adepts struggling against the evil minions of the Red Death.

The Gothic horror genre emphasizes that central conflict between good and evil by painting the forces of evil larger than life. The conflict is heightened when evil seems to be in control. When the forces of good are a tiny band of mere mortals, in the face of the fiendish power of the underworld, true horror is created, and the sense of accomplishment and triumph are all the greater when good wins even a small victory. In a modern world where many people feel powerless in the face of rampant greed, selfishness, and crime, it makes sense that Gothic horror should be the romantic fantasy of choice.

At the same time, Gothic horror boils down the conflict of good and evil by personifying all the forces of evil in a single villain. Certainly, the forces of weather and wild animals side with the villain, making it seem that evil is all around, but when the heroes finally confront the villain and destroy him, the evil is defeated. I find that Gothic horror makes me feel less powerless in the face of all the worldÕs evil, because at least in my game I can pretend that evil can be pinpointed, concretely identified in a single villain.

So, in a Gothic horror campaign, the players should have the sense that their characters are small but vitally important players in a conflict that is much larger than themselves. In a world such as Ravenloft or Gothic Earth, where villain after villain arise to threaten the lives and souls of the PCs, making their worst nightmares a reality, a campaign becomes an epic struggle, in which each adventure is an important battle. When virtue eventually does triumph over the overwhelming forces of evil, there is no greater feeling of accomplishment and relief.

As I said, the conflict of good and evil in Gothic horror rarely appears so simple. What creates the ambiguity (the Òshades of greyÓ) is the fact that the villain is portrayed so as to arouse the readerÕs sympathy. Even the heroine can feel pity for the monster, some element of sympathy. The villain, as thoroughly evil as he has become, still is (or was) human, and in some sense a victim—a victim of his own foolish choices and evil decisions. When sympathy is aroused in the hearts of the heroes, they are reminded that they themselves could fall into the same trap. The conflict is fought not just between heroes and villain, but within the hearts of the heroes, as they are tempted and seduced towards Òthe Dark SideÓ represented by the villain. That temptation is real, and it goes on in real human hearts, not just those of heroes in horror stories and PCs forced to make Powers checks in Ravenloft. Jonathan HarkerÕs confession when encountering the three female vampires in DraculaÕs castle is a simple example: ÒI felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet MinaÕs eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.Ó Who cannot relate to this simple temptation, this single, apparently minor, concession to evil?

Source of all we hope or dread—
Sheepdog, jackal, rattler, swan—
We hunt your face and long to trust
That your hid mouth will say again
"Let there be light," a new clear day.

But when we thirst in this dry night,
We drink from hot wells poisoned with
The blood of children. And when we strain
To hear a steady homing beam,
Our ears are balked by stifled moans
And howls of desolation from
The throats of sisters, brothers, wild men
Clawing at the gates for bread.

Even our own feeble hands
Ache to seize the crown you wear
And work our private havoc through
The known and unknown lands of space.

Absolute in flame beyond us—
Seed and source of dark and day—
Maker whom we beg to be
Our mother, father, comrade, mate
Till our few atoms blow to dust
Or form again in wiser lives
Or find your face and hear our names
In your calm voice, the end of dark
If dark may end.

Wellspring, goal
Of dark and day—be here, be now.

—Reynolds Price

Horror fiction appeals to me because it reflects—symbolically and in broad strokes—the real horror of the world, while simultaneously at least hinting toward the redemption that is found by struggling against the evil and despair around us. Virtue does triumph in the end—even if it emerges from the struggle tarnished, wounded, and weary. Faith upholds us, even if we are brought to the very threshold of despair in our battles against the demons. God is on our side, and that means the victory is ours. It may not look like victory—the cross of Christ most certainly did not—but we triumph when we find our hearts the strength to band together in the face of evil and struggle for justice, for love, for what is good and right.

Note: I wrote the bulk of this piece in 1995, while I was still pastoring my churches and just starting to write for publication. It was never finished, and I don't believe it is even still... but I brought it to a conclusion that works for me now, with only very light editing in the rest. Please share your thoughts on the message board.