Writing folk horror
Folk horror is having a moment. Readers – and consequently publishers – are crying out for books that tap into folk horror tropes. Yet the idea has been around a long time.
The 1973 film, The Wicker Man quickly became a cult classic, and its status as the archetypal folk horror remains unchallenged. Christopher Lee, who played the erudite and urbane, yet sinister Lord Summerisle, considered it his best film. He was right. It’s truly terrifying, its final moments unforgettable.
Folk horror is rooted in folklore, the traditions and beliefs of the folk (literally the common people) with little formal education. It goes back to the nineteenth century, and to the moment when educated people pulled away from the culture of the rural lower orders, rejecting their beliefs, yet fascinated by them, and often fearful of them. Bram Stoker tuned into this fascination when he carried out research into Transylvanian folk beliefs (‘superstitions’), which he combined with John Polidori’s suave aristocratic vampire to become the basis of his 1897 novel, Dracula.
‘Superstitions’ has a derogatory sound, and was the term used by the educated elite for folklore, the beliefs of the uneducated, especially in rural areas, far from the ‘civilising’ impact of towns. Yet folklore has its roots in ancient, animist beliefs, founded on a close connection between people and the natural environment. Magic and power are at the heart of it. A magic with a particular code, rules and rituals. A core idea is that mysterious places in the natural world – such as forests, rocks, caves, springs, lakes, hills and mountains – are the home of ancient spirits, and sometimes doors to the realms of fairy. To venture into the abiding places of the spirits without taking the proper ritual precautions is a transgression, and anyone who blunders there unwarily is liable to punishment. A primary rule of magic is that anyone who invokes the help of the spirits, or seeks to ward them off, will need to use appeasement – in the form of offerings, or sacrifice. It’s these two concepts – of transgression and of sacrifice – that have the potential to transform folklore and folk beliefs into the realms of folk horror.
The classic folk horror storyline has an outsider or outsiders, usually from a city, full of comfortable belief either in an organised religion (in Europe usually Christianity), or in science and rationalism, or with no beliefs at all, journey to a remote community where the old beliefs hold sway. At first the intruders are amused, baffled or contemptuous of ‘primitive superstitions’, but gradually they grow uneasy, then alarmed, then terrified, as they realise that there is a hidden threat behind the beliefs. The old gods are real and powerful – and they demand a sacrifice.
Find out more about Marisa’s first novel, The Binding Spell, here.