More Fun in the New World: American Vampire, Volume 1.

And we’re back. Things are good in the land of the Sanguine Diary. For one, I’m engaged. It’s official; we’ve announced it on Facebook and everything.

In other good news, on February 29th my story “Blood & Soil” will be published in the upcoming anthology, Dark Light, by the good people at Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing. Check out the trailer: 

In the meantime, I have been catching up on my chosen genre and researching a new project. So tonight, I pry myself away from the official history of Special Operations Executive to share my thoughts on the first volume of Scott Snyder’s graphic novel, American Vampire.

American Vampire weaves the history of the U.S. with the evolution of a new, powerful breed of vampire. As opposed to the Wampyr of old Europe, the American Vampire can walk in daylight. Where the old-world vampire is jaded and cautious, the new-world vampire is brash and mercurial. American Vampire tells the story of America’s break from it’s European roots with formidable nuance, representing the different facets of the American soul with the savage, vulgar bank robber, Skinner Sweet, and the faithful, optimistic Pearl Jones, an aspiring actress. While Pearl and Skinner’s European forebearers are more wealthy and sophisticated, they are no less cruel than their offspring.

Skinner Sweet’s story, which was written by none other than Stephen King, unfolds in the Wild West. Sweet’s transformation is an accident, an unintentional by-product of an ancient vampire’s attempt to punish him. In un-llife, as in life, Skinner Sweet is lawless, and nearly impossible to kill.You get the impression he prized the violence of bank robberies more than the money. After he rises from the grave, his only mission is to seek revenge on those who put him there, and he prosecutes this goal with harrowing glee.  

Old-breed vampires aren’t his only enemies, either. Before his transformation, he murders the fiancée of James Book, the law man who apprehended him, and as a vampire he exacts a bloody revenge on Book himself. Skinner’s ultimate goal, though, appears to be the destruction of his vampire forefathers.

Pearl’s story, written by Scott Snyder, is a little less dark than Skinner’s. In the Hollywood of the roaring twenties, a vampire/silent film producer lures her with the promise of stardom, and then feeds on her. Like Skinner, Pearl’s survival is an accident. But Skinner deliberately transforms her as an unwitting pawn in his plot to destroy the old breed.Pearl’s motive, though, is far easier to identify with than Skinner’s. She was betrayed, bled, and left for dead; her goal is justice. After settling accounts, all Pearl wants, in her own words, is to go “somewhere simple and quiet.” Can you blame her?

But Skinner makes it clear to Pearl that her story won’t end there. At the final page, it is also clear that Skinner’s story is far from over, as well. This is a good thing because the overall execution of American Vampire is very good. The art, drawn by Rafael Albuquerque is terrific and the two stories tie together well. I look forward to reading the next two volumes, even though they don’t include Stephen King.

I also hope that the next two volumes resolve a couple of American Vampire’s problems with character development. James Book— the law man who came closest to bringing Skinner to justice and the man who Skinner spends a great deal of story-time pursuing in vengeance— is two dimensional and predictable. He has so little depth that sympathy for him is more perfunctory than visceral. This is unfortunate, because he is the most prominent force of good throughout Skinner’s origin story. In the evil-vs-evil battle between Skinner and the old-world vampires, a really engaging, just character would have provided an interesting counterpoint. Instead, Skinner’s vendetta against Book seems like too much of a side story.

The character of Skinner Sweet is also somewhat underdeveloped. Beyond his crass, violent nature, there is little to him. King and Snyder may very well be playing a long game here, introducing him in the first volume and exploring his motives and personality in greater detail in subsequent stories. Still, can’t they throw us a little piece of something? A hint of something more to come? It is strange that Stephen King, a writer renowned for creating vivid, believable characters, handled this part of Skinner’s story. Snyder, on the other hand, fleshes out Pearl beautifully, with voice-over style narratives from her childhood and dialogue that illuminates her personality.   

That said, the first installment of American Vampire is well worth reading. I will say it again: Rafael Albuquerque’s artwork is terrific. Just look at this image:

 
Image by Rafael Albuquerque, copied from the website Gutter Geek: http://www.tcj.com/guttergeek/

The best thing thing about American Vampire, though, is that it is a welcome tonic against the surge of dewey-eyed, pretty boy vampires. I pray that stories such as this are the first rumbles of a tsunami of dirty, gritty, squirm-inducing vampire lore, and if so, I will gladly pitch a tent on the beach.

Specters of Misogyny: What's the Most Disturbing Thing About American Horror Story?

It's that time of week again, and my story "Restless" is still available in Dark Moon Books' latest eDigest, Dark Eclipse #7. If you haven't already checked out my story, "Survivor's Guilt", you can find it in the Wicked East Press anthology, Once Bitten, Never Die.

Now that the promoting-my-work part of my blog is out of the way, it's on to the vampire, supernatural, and writing-related topics. For this entry, I am going to share my thoughts about the first season of the FX series, American Horror Story.

DISCLAIMER: If you haven't seen American Horror Story, and want to find out how it ends for yourself, stop reading now. It's a show that's totally worth watching, so you won't hurt my feelings if you leave. While you're waiting for the episodes to finish downloading, you can read my story, "Love is a Battlefield." If you've already seen it, or your surprise gene is impervious to ruin, well...

American Horror Story is easily one of the most unsettling things I've seen on TV. It's chock full of vicious ghosts, basement abortions, rape, and low moral denominators. But in the end, what bothers me most is what it seems to say about our society, especially regarding our views of women.

On the surface, American Horror Story is a morality tale about the importance of family and the dangers of reckless behavior. In the beginning, the Harmon family moves from Boston to Los Angeles after the mother, Vivien, has a miscarriage and her husband Ben, a psychiatrist, cheats on her with one of his students. Their teenage daughter, Violet, is caught in the middle of their marital strife, and left isolated by the move.

Several gruesome ghost stories intertwine with the unraveling threads of the Harmon's marriage. Their house, it turns out, is the site of some of Los Angeles's most famous murders, as well as a share of lesser-known ones. When someone dies in the house, their spirit can't leave, and every spirit is motivated by the circumstances of their death. On top of that, there is the Harmon’s menacing neighbor, Constance, and her officious ex, Larry, who is burned on over seventy percent of his body.

Ben is selfish and narcissistic, and some of the ghosts seem to bedevil him as a moral price. He was unfaithful to Vivien, continues to lie to her about it, and ignores his behavior’s affect on his daughter. It often seems like the ghosts are a supernatural manifestation of his deceit and betrayal of his family. Moira, a salacious maid who Constance murdered because of her husband's forceful advances, constantly attempts to seduce Ben. He is harassed by Hayden, the ghost of his mistress, who Larry murders in an attempt to blackmail him. Another malevolent spirit, Tate (a teenage psychopath), poses as a patient and says obscene things about Violet. In the end, Hayden arranges Ben’s death, so he is destroyed by the direct symbol of the harm he inflicted on his family.

This morality tale would be fairly cut and dry if Ben got the worst of it, but he doesn't. To the show’s credit, most characters occupy a grey space between good and evil. Still, of all the members of the Harmon family, Ben is by far the biggest threat to their stability, and his wife and daughter bear the worst burdens.

Violet is sullen and a little rebellious, but struggles to do the right thing. For her efforts, she is tormented by visions of spirits, commits suicide, and doesn't realize she is a ghost for months. But the worst fate is reserved for Vivien.

Vivien haltingly struggles to restore her trust in Ben, an endeavor which is rewarded by Ben's continued deceit and violent harassment from Hayden's ghost. Tate also rapes her, and then attempts to rape her again at Hayden's behest. While Ben is surreptitiously visiting Hayden in Boston, Vivien and Violet are attacked by a cult that wishes to copy famous serial killers. She becomes pregnant— with twins from two fathers, Ben and Tate— and not only does she die in childbirth, but one child is stillborn and the other is the freaking antichrist! And this is not even a complete list of the harm done to Vivien.

The majority of other women in show occupy a moral spectrum ranging from deep gray to black, but none are truly evil. Moira is a ghost with a deep grudge, a flash-frozen trauma who acts out her rage toward the man who assaulted her by tempting other men into indiscretion. Nora Montgomery, another harmful ghost, is driven by the loss of her infant son. Hayden is unstable and manipulative, but Ben’s treatment of her makes somewhat sympathetic. Constance actively plots against the Harmon family, emotionally abuses her Down syndrome daughter, and pressures Larry to murder her son, Beauregard. Though her actions are sometimes cruel enough to make empathy difficult, her behavior stems from a life perpetual tragedy,  .  

The show’s creators, Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk, are also responsible for Nip/Tuck and Glee, and I am not the first person to raise questions about his shows' portrayal of women. As to whether these two men are personally misogynistic, it is easy to speculate but harder to say for certain. A lot of people worked on American Horror Story, including Tim Minear, a veteran of the decidedly un-misogynistic Joss Whedon creations, Angel and Firefly. But the question of what the show's creators think about women is actually a part of a bigger question of what the show says about our society's attitudes toward them.

It is telling that the show is set in Los Angeles, a city known for chewing people up and spitting them out, especially young women. It may thus be no coincidence that one side plot of American Horror Story features the infamous Black Dahlia murder, which another side plot replicates with Constance’s young, dim-witted lover, Travis, as victim. Like the Black Dahlia, Travis had big dreams. These two deaths could be a commentary on the commoditization of sex. Both men and women are objectified, though the latter supply the larger share of meat for the grinder.  

So, I don’t think that American Horror Story is sexist so much as it reflects broader misogynistic strains in our society. I mean, you don’t have to listen to lots of Ani Difranco to admit that we are living in a patriarchy. But, as American Horror Story shows, the debasement of one sex debases us all. The women in the show suffer mainly because of the selfishness of men. Nora lost her child as an indirect result of her husband’s failures. Ben Harmon’s reckless behavior destroys the lives of the two women closest to him. I can’t help but wonder what Constance would have become had she lived in a society that had valued her more.

If a morality tale about the value of family forms the thematic rind of American Horror Story, then it’s meat warns us against the devaluation and abuse of women.