What I've learned from The Day of the Triffids, The Walking Dead, and 28 Days Later

I recently finished reading The Day of the Triffids, a science-fiction novel by British author John Wyndham published in 1951, about man-made carnivorous plants-the triffids-that begin to attack humans and kill them following a night-time meteor shower that blinds those who have watched it. Up to this point, they were aggressive in the sense of being able to sting people with their poisonous stingers, but after the meteor shower, they begin to move about and to kill humans. They are mostly localized to gardens, so that it remains safe for the most part to traverse city streets, but deadly to try to enter homes and dwellings that have any sort of garden attached to them. The opening scene, where the protagonist wakes up in a hospital bed (his eyes covered in bandages after having been splashed with triffid poison) to find himself almost alone, is one that has been borrowed by zombie apocalypse shows and films such as The Walking Dead and 28 Days Later.  The book is excellent in its portrayal of how people adapt to and cope in the new world of mostly-blind people wandering about in London and the rest of England, searching for food and for people to help them. As always in these types of stories, The Walking Dead and 28 Days Later included, the threat from monstrous creatures, while real, pales in comparison to the threat from the human monsters who take advantage of the situation and who try to control others with brute force. In other words, it becomes possible to shoot, hack at, and kill the zombies and triffids, but it is more difficult to do that with other human beings, because you don't always understand their motives until it is too late. In all three of these stories (book, TV series, and film), survivors band together in the search for food and safe lodging. It is not always smart to stay put if you first have found safe lodging, because at some point you will have to go out and find food, and that puts you at risk. You learn to kill the monsters, but you don't always know when they will appear. In The Day of the Triffids, those who can see (and who have a heart) try to take care of the blind people they run across, whereas other seeing people brutally shove them aside to let them die alone. Good people versus bad people, or are the bad people just the ones who have seen the grim future and understood that mankind has to make some hard choices? But we are human, and humans have hearts and empathy, and it is not easy to root that out. You will always have 'the every man for himself' type of people, and you will also have the altruistic people who always put others first. Both are extremes, because in a time of crisis, you need to have the middle-ground people, those who can see ahead and try to plan for the grim future, at the same time as they take care of the less fortunate.

Why do I bring up these apocalyptic themes? Because it is my contention that during times of crisis, you will sort into one of three groups of people: those who poo-poo the situation, ignore the seriousness of it and go about their lives as though nothing has happened (the 'hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil' type of people); those who panic and begin to hoard foodstuffs and household products ('the every man for himself' type of people); and those who understand the gravity of the situation and who try to keep a cool head in the midst of chaos (the 'common sense-we will get through this' type of people). It is the latter group that the world needs more of. They are the people who understand that there is safety and efficiency in numbers, that our spiritual values require us to help others especially in times of crisis, and that to use reason and intelligence is necessary in order to find workable solutions that will ensure survival. I'll put my money on them any day. That much I've learned from apocalyptic literature, series, and films.

In the spirit of Halloween

During the weekend I happened to be up late and decided to see what was on television. I stumbled across the new horror series that has been racking up rave reviews in the USA—The Walking Dead. The first season is being shown late at night here in Norway on the cable station Fox Crime; I understand that six episodes comprise the first season, and that the second season premiered in the USA last night. I have only managed to see two episodes of the first season so far, but what I’ve seen is fairly convincing. This is a cut above your average horror series. The zombies are very realistic and the entire show has such a realistic feel to it that you could almost imagine such a thing happening—a virus wiping out huge segments of the population and then the dead coming back to life as flesh-eating zombies. The episode I watched last night was the final one of the first season—when the CDC in Atlanta self-destructs after the generators lose power due to lack of fuel, taking the one scientist who decides to stay and end his life there with it. But before it is destroyed, this scientist shows the group of survivors who travel together the 3-D brain scans of his wife before she died of the virus, and how the virus spread through her brain, killing her. It was interesting to see the ‘live’ brain scans—the neural circuits in the brain flashing and then the virus spreading through the brain, causing the circuits to stop firing. Then, after some hours, some light started to glow in his dead wife’s brain stem, but nowhere else in the brain, allowing her to rise again as a zombie, at which point he shot her through the brain. I have to ask myself—why at my age do I still enjoy being scared by this type of show? Why do I still watch this type of horror? I find myself being scared in the same way as I was when I was a teenager. I know none of it is real, that it probably could never happen quite in this way, although an apocalypse of some sort could of course occur. That was more than realistically portrayed in Corman McCarthy’s book The Road, which I found to be quite a harrowing read. For that reason, I did not watch the film based on the book and which starred Viggo Mortensen, mostly because it all seemed so hopeless and dark beyond words. Perhaps the difference between it and The Walking Dead is that there seems to be some hope in the latter, if only in that the survivors can in fact take out the zombies, who are slow-moving and easy to kill. But they are ugly and scary-looking and the show is definitely not for children or the faint-hearted. I found myself thinking of I Am Legend with Will Smith and The Omega Man with Charlton Heston as well, also films where viruses led to scenarios quite similar to those in The Walking Dead—survivors battling virus-infected monsters and vampires respectively. Both of these films are based on the Richard Matheson novel I Am Legend, which is excellent.

Zombie and vampire movies continue to fascinate us, as is evidenced by how well most of them do at the box office. They scare us—and we seem to like being scared. Monsters scare us, the monsters of our childhood, the ones hiding in the closet or under the bed. The dark scares us, and it seems to be an instinctive response—we cannot see in the dark and that by itself leads to fear, because we are vulnerable in the dark. I remember that feeling as a child. What lies behind the door? What is in the closet? What is under my bed if I look down or if my foot sticks out from under the covers? What will get me if I am not protected? What if I look out the window and a monster stares back at me from the darkness? That is why the scenes of the monsters overrunning New York City in I Am Legend were terrifying. They were strong, vicious predators and nothing seemed to stop them. They hid indoors by day and came out at night. Imagine a society where that was the case—howling screeching monsters running amok in the night. 28 Days Later was another such film that created the same feelings; especially the one scene in the tunnel where the car with uninfected survivors won’t start and you can hear the infected mob bearing down upon them. Will they escape, and what happens if they don’t? We know the answer but we watch anyway to make sure they get away. Because some of them have to escape the horrible fate that awaits them—some of them have to live. We have to know that it is possible to survive, otherwise what is the point of watching?  

Halloween is soon upon us. Each year the USA (and now many European countries ironically enough) celebrates this strange holiday—a combination of pagan and Christian influences. Halloween is not originally an American holiday. The idea of Halloween with masks and costumes is in fact quite ancient, originating with the Celtic festival of Samhain, which marked the end of summer (information culled from different websites). The Celts (who were spread out over much of Western Europe) believed that demons and ghosts of the dead returned to earth during harvest time (before the winter months) due to the fact that the gates between life and death were more ‘open’ at this time of year. These other-world visitors were dangerous because they could cause trouble with the harvest and food stores for the winter months, so it was necessary to appease them. The Celts thus wore costumes and masks during Samhain to ward off demons and ghosts, sacrificed animals and burned crops to their gods in bonfires built by their priests (the Druids) who could control the supernatural energy present at this time of year. We thus have Halloween in our blood, so to speak. Despite the Christian influences that eventually overtook Halloween, the original pagan celebration is a part of our heritage. The fear of the supernatural world, of demons, ghosts, vampires and monsters, is as old as time. Fire could protect, darkness was danger. We would prefer not to be visited by ghosts and demons; we would do what we could to prevent that. In our ‘civilized’ age, we don’t believe that ghosts, demons, vampires and monsters walk the earth, but the superstitious part of us is tenacious and not easy to get rid of no matter how ‘civilized’ we are. Perhaps that is one explanation for our fascination with the darkness, with the unknown, with monsters. As much as we like to pretend that we don’t get scared, the reality is something else again.