Vampire Retro-Review: Under the Fang

UNDER THE FANG (1991), edited by bestselling horror writer Robert R. McCammon, was the first of several anthologies published under the auspices of the Horror Writers Association (when it was still called “Horror Writers of America”). It’s a shared world anthology, sort of. Unified by the premise of a world ruled by vampires, the book apparently didn’t have a “bible” to impose consistency among the stories. Each author creates his or her vision of what such a world would look like. The volume includes distinguished authors such as McCammon himself (who, in addition to his story, contributes an introductory overview in the form of a “testament” by a human survivor in hiding from the conquering undead), Nancy Collins, Charles de Lint, and Richard Laymon, among others. My favorite story teams up the creators of two of my favorite vampires of all time. Suzy McKee Charnas and Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, in “Advocates,” portray Yarbro’s Count Saint-Germain defending Dr. Weyland, central character in Charnas’s THE VAMPIRE TAPESTRY, against the charge of murdering other vampires. Weyland, guilty and disdaining to pretend otherwise, may be spared execution if Saint-Germain can make a case for mercy. I love the clash between two very different types of vampires.

Some other scenarios explored in these tales include a Gypsy who accepts the predators’ protection and finds the bargain a poor one (“We Are Dead Together,” by Charles de Lint); an experimental treatment to reduce vampires’ need for blood that has had the opposite result, and a man who arranges his wife’s transformation to save her from death by cancer, again with an outcome different from what he plans (“Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage,” by Chet Williamson); the viewpoint of a collaborator who supplies blood for the vampires (“Juice,” by Lisa W. Cantrell); an annual festival at which a vampire storyteller and teacher passes on their history and lore to the young (“Red Eve,” by Al Sarrantonio); a human resistance group attacking a train that transports captive blood donors (“Does the Blood Line Run on Time?” by Sidney Williams and Robert Petitt); a resistance base in the Arctic, with a sympathetic portrayal of both the human protagonist and a vampire military officer who’s tired of the killing (“Midnight Sun,” by Brian Hodge). This anthology has unfortunately been allowed to go out of print, but cheap used copies are readily available.

Highly recommended for the wide variety of innovative approaches to its theme.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.

Mental Illness in Horror

The Horror Writers Association's monthly newsletter has started running a column about the treatment of mental illness in horror fiction -- how it's been done wrong in the past and how to do it realistically, sensitively, and compassionately. Too often in such stories, neurodivergent people or sufferers from mental and emotional disorders have appeared as stereotypically monstrous figures such as deranged serial killers. Yet it's hard to imagine the genre without Poe's neurotic or perhaps delusional narrators, Renfield in DRACULA, Lovecraft's protagonists driven mad by cosmic terrors, Robert Bloch's PSYCHO, and works such as Theodore Sturgeon's brilliant SOME OF YOUR BLOOD (a short epistolary novel featuring a rather pitiable blood-drinking sociopath, who, with only two exceptions, kills only small animals he hunts in the woods). THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS presents the sociopathic genius Dr. Hannibal Lecter, more of a fairy-tale monster with almost magical powers than a realistic criminal, and the serial killer "Buffalo Bill," murdering women to sew a "girl suit" out of their skins. The latter has been criticized for giving the toxic impression that transgender men are inherently unstable and probably dangerous. Lecter explicitly says "Bill" isn't really transgender and has been rejected by more than one sex change clinic (as the procedure was labeled at that time); nevertheless, the impression lingers.

There's little room to doubt that the innumerable fiction and film portrayals of people suffering from psychosis and other mental or emotional disorders as insane killers have negatively affected the public's distorted perception of actual human beings with similar problems. Also, the pulp fiction and horror film trope of the "mad scientist" probably reinforces too many people's distrust of real-life science nowadays, often with potentially disastrous real-world results.

As the panel discussion articles in the HWA newsletter point out, horror writers don't have to stop including mentally ill and neurodivergent characters in their works. Those characters can be drawn as three-dimensional figures with credible virtues and flaws, even if they're sometimes the antagonists in their stories.

I recently read Stephen King's latest novel, HOLLY, which I enjoyed very much. Like King himself, I've been fond of Holly ever since her first appearance in MR. MERCEDES. Through the rest of that trilogy, the spin-off novel THE OUTSIDER, and the novella "If It Bleeds," she has believably evolved as a character. When we first meet her, she's nervous, shy, perpetually anxious, and at least mildly obsessive-compulsive. Even then, her suppressed intelligence shines through. She also seems to be high-functioning autistic, although the texts never explicitly state that diagnosis. As seen in HOLLY, she has grown in confidence, competence, and bonding with people she has come to love, while her core personality remains the same. She still displays the same quirks, including that touch of OC, exacerbated by the need for COVID precautions. She's a well-rounded character whose strengths and weaknesses we can empathize with, yet a true hero when circumstances require. She strikes me as an outstanding example of a non-neurotypical protagonist done well.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.