Sex and horror do go together. Sex is a one-way door that, once entered, cannot be exited. It is also an imitation of death. The French, afterall, call an orgasm "the little death". People don't like to talk about sex any more than they like to talk about death. Sex is a part of that old reptilian brain. Seemingly, the rational mind turns off...and Something Else appears. There is a roar of a dinosaur behind every moan between satin sheets. Sex is mythic (...and let's face facts, seldom as good as we think it's going to be), just like horror. You know, the truth shattering the fantasy like glass in an automobile accident. Everyone has expectations about sex and eroticism, but they are predicated on images that may or may not reflect reality.
And no one ever tells the truth about sex. It's too personal. It is something that unfolds between lovers. Hence, even more potential horror...finding out that your true love is into really odd stuff, or is not exactly what you'd expected. A hidden agenda can be a powerfully frightening thing, indeed.
We all have concrete examples from real life, too. For example, did you ever find a partner who liked to be bitten during sex? It may be something you're uncomfortable with, because it's too close to losing control of the rational mind. But you might eventually like it, anyway. That is the final aspect of the sex-horror connection...finding out things about yourself that you really didn't want to know.
We naively think we know ourselves, and we do not. The comfort of our identity is twisted by something that's beyond our control. The Beast is always there -- it is a wild heat that stays in the veins. And supposedly, we take off our chains along with our clothing.
Until about 1980, sex was relatively guilt-free. It was the era of Erica Jong's infamous "zipless fuck". Sex without fear, and often without much emotional commitment. Then AIDS reared its retroviral head. Once described as "the little death", sex could now be death for real. Sex became even more mythic, even more linked with the symbolism of death. All we had to fear before was rejection, or the occasional scary partner (the Date From Hell is a recurring horror theme, right?) Now we had real death confronting the threat of ego-death.
So the concept of a femme fatale -- a beautiful, sexually agressive woman -- becomes very important to men. And, because it is (quite frankly) uncommon, it makes the mind revolve around such cautionary-tale archetypes as lamia, vampires, succubi, and so on. Writer Hazel-Dawn Dumpert said: "Murderers, vampires, ghosts can be frightening, yes. A crazy dame? Now that's scary." She also suggested that family values define woman as the nurturing force. A woman is an element of the earth itself -- they don't call it Mother Nature for nothing. She's the link to physical and emotional survival. If a kink throws the womanly works off kilter, if they're perverted in any way, the results can be catastrophic. We all know what horrors are unleashed when bizarre circumstances transform beneficent babes into creatures of evil.
In movies and literature, it's always a good idea to ask: why is this gorgeous woman coming on so strong like that? If it's too good to be true, there must be a catch. In real life, I believe this is a major psychlogical difference between men and woman: ego reinforcement. That isn't to say the majority of men will turn down sex when it's offered to them, even by strange women. But, don't think men aren't suspicious of the situation. Even for the most testosterone-driven men, sex is scary. You are going off into the metaphorical dark with someone you don't know well, and getting as close to her as is physically possible. Vulnerable. Sex and death...as in Ramsey Campbell's cleverly titled book, Scared Stiff.
That is why sex is always more than simply sex. It ties in with all kinds of issues. It is a big deal. Remember what Woody Allen said about sex and death? "Two things that only happen once in a lifetime." We joke about it, but sex is scary. These concerns about sex and death, about the Beast within, are all throughout our popular culture: in songs, books and films. In this decade of white-trash glamor, we even get it delivered to us daily by Hard Copy and Oprah inside our own living rooms.
Men's erotica is more broadly humorous, while women's erotica tends to be more philosophical and high-minded. Truism: different strokes for different folks. And it isn't just men, of course. Women have their own kinks in their psychological garden hoses, too. It reminds me a bit of the Victorian female attitude about sex, and why Count Dracula was so appealing both then and now. Victorian women weren't supposed to like sex, or to be wanton. It was control, then as now, which was important. Stephen King described the underlying theme thusly: the vampire was saying to the chaste Victorian ladies. "I will fuck you with my mouth, and you will love it."
He is right, too. For both sexes, the concept of losing control in romance is somehow very attractive. I couldn't help myself, becomes a catch phrase... I was drunk. It is the most human of states: to want to feel good, to feel better, or to not feel at all. We learn secrecy, new definitions of the truth. And a certain sense of assault develops in whatever mirror we choose to look into...because we take off many thousands of years of civilization when we dive beneath the sheets.
Originally published in GC Magazine - Edited by Jon Keeyes.