by Christopher Barr
“I could not
help feeling that they were evil things—mountains of madness whose farther
slopes looked out over some accursed ultimate abyss. That seething,
half-luminous cloud-background held ineffable suggestions of a vague, ethereal
beyondness far more than terrestrially spatial; and gave appalling reminders of
the utter remoteness, separateness, desolation, and aeon-long death of this
untrodden and unfathomed austral world.”
- H.P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness
- H.P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness
In the absence of light, darkness prevails.
Hellboy, created by comic
book artist Mike Mignola, tells the tale of a red-skinned demon, with filed off
horns and a tail, who was summoned by Nazi occultists from Hell to Earth as an
infant child during the winter of 1944. Hellboy was a name given to him
by the Allied Forces, among them, Professor Trevor “Broom” Bruttenholm who
would raise Hellboy as his own. His true demon name is Anung Un Rama
which translates into, ‘And upon his brow is set a crown of flame’.
Sporting an oversized right hand made of stone, Hellboy grew up with
a strong sense of humor and not a real sign of any of the evil that is commonly
associated with demons from hell.
Hellboy works for the United States Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense (BPRD) in
the comic book and the two movies. In the first movie Hellboy is up
against the malevolent Russian supernatural, Grigori Rasputin who needs
Hellboy as he is quite literally the key to open the portal, and release these
monstrous creatures imprisoned in another dimension, to come help create some
hellish utopia on earth.
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On a sociological level the film deals with how
society chooses to treat unfamiliarity and fear of the unknown. Del Toro
is deeply influenced by the American horror writer H.P. Lovecraft and the
themes littered in all of his horror stories. Lovecraft was himself influenced
deeply by the writing of Edgar Allen Poe, whose tales were filled with mystery
and macabre.
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“I have said that Danforth refused to tell me what
final horrors made him scream out so insanely-a horror which, I feel sadly
sure, is mainly responsible for his present breakdown. We had snatches of
shouted conversation above the wind’s piping and the engine’s buzzing as we
reached the safe side of the range and swooped slowly down toward the camp, but
that had mostly to do with the pledges of secrecy we had made as we prepared to
leave the nightmare city. Certain things, we had agreed, were not for
people to know and discuss lightly and I would not speak of them now but for
the need of heading off that Starkweather-Moore Expedition, and others at any
cost. It is absolutely necessary, for the peace and safety of mankind,
that some of earth’s dark, dead corners and unplumbed depths be let alone; lest
sleeping abnormalities wake to resurgent life, and blasphemously surviving
nightmares squirm and splash out of their black lairs to newer and wider
conquests.”
Like del Toro, Lovecraft was also skeptical of
structural institutions, especially religious ones. “All I say is that I think it is damned unlikely that anything like a
central cosmic will, a spirit world, or an eternal survival of personality
exist. They are the most preposterous and unjustified of all the guesses
which can be made about the universe, and I am not enough of a hairsplitter to
pretend that I don’t regard them as arrant and negligible moonshine. In
theory I am an agnostic, but pending the appearance of radical evidence I must
be classed, practically and provisionally, as an atheist.”
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There is a pessimism that can be found in Oswald
Spengler’s, The Decline of the West that speaks of a decadence of the modern
West that was crucial to Lovecraft’s overall anti-modern worldview. Spengler wrote, “To-day we live so cowed under the bombardment of this intellectual
artillery that hardly anyone can attain to the inward detachment that is
required for a clear view of the monstrous drama. The will-to-power operating under a pure
democratic disguise has finished off its masterpiece so well that the object’s
sense of freedom is actually flattered by the most thorough-going enslavement
that has ever existed.”
For Lovecraft, the fundamental premise that common
human laws, interests and emotions possess, have no actual validity or
significance in the vast cosmos at large. He saw the essence of real
externality, whether of time or space or dimension, as a way one must forget
that such things are organic life, good and evil, love and hate, and all such
local attributes of a trifling and temporary race called mankind. He like
Einstein knew that we must reach beyond the limits of our sensory
boundaries. We can’t end where we started but we must take caution in our
exploration of what’s beyond the parameters of human thought. Lovecraft
saw the outer limits as a necessary curiosity but also he feared the potential
madness that could follow.
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“…modern man no
longer communicates with the madman (…) There is no common language: or rather,
it no longer exists; the constitution of madness as mental illness, at the end
of the eighteenth century, bears witness to a rapture in a dialogue, gives the
separation as already enacted, and expels from the memory all those imperfect
words, of no fixed syntax, spoken falteringly, in which the exchange between
madness and reason was carried out. The language
of psychiatry, which is a monologue by reason about madness, could only have
come into existence in such a silence.”
- Michel Foucault
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Because some old white guy is behind the wheel of the
car, holding the future of our species in the backseat, and is so impaired with
greed and power to willingly stop before he drives us all off the cliff, we are
all likely doomed. Poe, Lovecraft and
del Toro knew all too clearly that the very naissance of civilization itself was
a project birthed out of forbidden knowledge.
We opened Pandora’s Box and let out our own Gods and Monsters, ones that
have grown out of control to a point that, like Lovecraft’s fictional Elder Things,
we too must retreat from our home, possibly never to return. We can only hope that the prevailing darkness
is met with the light of reason and the Gods and Monsters are caged in their
box yet again.
The Kraken
By Alfred Tennyson
Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber’s and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
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