"The terror, which would not end
for another twenty-eight years--if it ever did end--
began, so far as I know or can tell,
with a boat made from a sheet of newspapers
floating down a gutter swollen with rain."
This is how Stephen King begins "It,"
his 22nd novel, published in 1986.
It's a passage that really exemplifies what King does best:
instantly engrossing you in the horrific and unknown.
And it's this unique ability that has made him
one of the best-selling writers of our time,
selling over 350 million copies worldwide
and earning him the distinguished title of Master of Horror.
Yet, despite his success and popularity,
King is still a difficult writer to discuss
among the literary circle.
Once described by The New York Times as
"a writer of fairly engaging and preposterous claptrap,"
there has been a long-standing discussion
on whether King's works are really literature
or just glorified pulp.
Nonetheless, King has managed to create
some of the most iconic and haunting stories
ever to come out of the genre.
Which raises the question:
How does he do it?
Like any writer, King isn't shy
to share his sources of inspiration,
most notably writers like Richard Matheson of "I Am Legend"
and Bram Stoker of the now classic "Dracula."
But perhaps the writer that most closely
resembles his style is H.P. Lovecraft,
one of the most influential writers of the horror genre.
He single-handedly created a whole new subgenre
that is now more commonly known as cosmic horror,
in which unknown cosmic entities
and phenomena beyond our understanding,
often portrayed as ancient, mythical monsters,
became the subject of horror.
But the monsters of Lovecraft were never really monsters.
Instead, they were metaphors that symbolized
Lovecraft's deep fear of the rapid technological
and scientific advancements in the early 20th century.
The helplessness he felt towards the changes around him
reflected in the hopeless struggle of people
against forces that are far beyond their control.
Lovecraft believed that people's inability
to truly understand their reality
was the most merciful thing in the world
and that doing so
would be enough to drive anyone to insanity.
In many ways, this is the same kind of horror
that King taps into.
Whether it's vampires, a haunted hotel, or a rabid dog,
the subjects of King's horror
all represent our fear for something else.
More specifically, the societal fears
of the American people.
In "Danse Macabre," King's study of the horror genre,
he explains that there are two different kinds of horror.
The first is horror that plays
on our phobic pressure points.
These are fears based on our individual phobias,
like the fear of spiders or ghosts,
something that a lot of recent
horror movies have based themselves on.
But these horrors also have a clear limit,
as they target a very specific group
of people with that specific phobia.
Which is why more effective and successful works of horror
play with what's known as national pressure points.
These are political, societal, and psychological fears
that are shared by a wider spectrum of people.
Like in the works of Lovecraft and King,
are represented by the abnormal and the supernatural.
It's what King excels at,
living through some of the most
tumultuous periods in American history.
His debut novel, "Carrie," on the surface
a book about a girl with telekinetic powers,
is really a story about the suppression
of female sexuality in the '60s,
published just six years after the
famous Miss America protest in 1968.
And in "The Shining," a book about
a family stranded in a haunted hotel,
King picks apart the concept of patriarchy
that is deeply rooted into the American culture
to discuss the cyclical nature of parental legacy.
Sometimes it's more personal.
Two of his most famous works, "Misery" and "Cujo,"
deal with addiction and the lack
of self-control it accompanies
and were written by King during his
own struggle with drugs and alcohol.
Like Lovecraft, the horrors that King portrays
are self-reflective and grounded in our reality.
Mrs. Carmody: And it is his fault, yes, it is,
Pvt. Jessup: No!
It is not my fault!
Narrator: Which in turn makes
the horror feel that much more real.
They're representations of American fear.
Things that threaten the very foundation
of the society we live in.
And just like Lovecraft, it's reality that terrifies King.
As he once put it, it isn't the physical
or mental abnormalities that really horrify us,
but the lack of order in our reality they represent.
So, how does King put this on paper?
The first thing to note is that situation comes first.
King's books are often based on situations
rather than intricate plots.
Every single one of his works is based
on a series of what-if scenarios.
Like what if an ancient, cosmic evil in the shape
of a clown terrorized a small town in Maine?
Then he drops a group of well-fleshed-out characters
right into the heart of the situation.
But it's not to help them work their way free,
but to simply watch what happens.
And it's this spontaneity that allows for some of
the most unexpected and shocking moments in King's stories.
And it's impossible to talk about
Stephen King without talking about suspense.
As he said himself,
Stephen King: Well, if you ask the ordinary,
run-of-the-mill reader,
if there is such a guy or such a gal,
I guess that I write horror novels.
I think what I actually write are suspense novels.
Narrator: Another master of suspense, Alfred Hitchcock,
once said suspense is "the most powerful means
of holding on to the viewer's attention."
And it's what King also excels at.
Grabbing your attention and keeping
it on something horrific,
so you're unable to turn away.
And he accomplishes this by applying three
of the most basic literary devices.
The first step is foreshadowing.
Both his books and adaptations are riddled
with lines and moments that hint at what's to come.
Bill: Georgie?
Be careful.
Narrator: This is why King's stories
have an overarching sense of doom and dread.
Unlike most horror novels and films,
it's not the uncertainty of danger that has you on edge,
but exactly when that danger will finally happen.
Then, the next step is callback,
where King racks up the suspense by continuously
reminding the audience that the danger is lurking.
And oftentimes, it takes a while
for the danger to actually show its face.
And then, finally, the payoff.
In which the suspense we've been building towards
reaches its peak and we finally
face the danger we've been waiting for.
And it's at this final moment that King scares us.
And you can very well see this throughout King's career.
Even in the passage that started this video.
With just one line,
foreshadowing the terror to come,
a callback to the longevity of said terror,
and, finally, the payoff to the very thing
that started it all.
Analyzing the works of Stephen King is a great opportunity
to understand what really scares us at the end of the day.
His works are prime examples that show us that our object
of fear very much exists in our own reality.
Sometimes it's not the monsters or ghosts that scare us,
but the horrors of everyday life
lurking in the corners, waiting to strike.
And it's this horror that King knows
and understands perhaps better than anyone.
And if that's not enough to make him the Master of Horror,
it would be hard to find someone else that deserves it more.