“And now, let the casual reader beware; the pages that follow comprise of the most obscene story that has ever been told since the world began, a bible of atrocities unequalled amongst either the ancients or the moderns. Imagine that every honest pleasure permitted by that beast which men speak of, though they do not truly understand it, and which they call Nature—imagine that any such pleasure were banished from this compendium of evil, and that if you should by some chance detect a trace of them it will only be because they were besmirched by some crime, or juxtaposed with the most diabolical of iniquities.”
So warned Donatien Alphonse Francois, otherwise known as The Marquis de Sade in the Forward of his notorious book, 120 Days of Sodom; written over 37 days in 1785 when the Marquis resided in France’s equally notorious prison, the Bastille. On July 14, 1789, at the height of the French Revolution, the Bastille was stormed by citizens and looted. The Marquis had been moved a few days before the storming to Charenton, an insane asylum where he eventually died in 1814. Surprisingly, the manuscript survived (proof that literature, if given a chance will find a way to live on, despite the arrogance of man via bans, book burnings, or any other attempts to stifle its existence).
Proud of his writing, the Marquis described his book as “the most impure tale that has ever been told since our world began.”
Considering the Marquis’s own words and analysis of his works over the decades and centuries, is it any wonder the book could be said to provide inspiration? Dark inspiration, but inspiration nonetheless.
Feminist Andrea Dworkin described his books as “vile pornography”; a piece of writing featuring the worst in man, from rape and torture to murder, and all of it enthusiastically told in detail by the author. Although I can’t find the specific quote, one scholar stated, and I’m paraphrasing here, that the level of the books vileness and debauch alone made it worthy of being read and considered as serious literature.
The Marquis de Sade is a man whose very existence inspired the word “sadism.” He wrote with relish about the darker nature of humankind and did so unapologetically. He is not an easy read, but that darkness mentioned above, has provided entertainment to some degree or another for readers for a very long time. Some may read and be appalled, while some might be titillated.
In exploring the dark side of literature, what is too far? More importantly, if one is embracing writing about our darker natures, should they not push the boundaries?
During his lifetime and after his death, the Marquis found himself at the center of a great deal of debate and attempted censorship. In more recent times, the author Bret Easton Ellis found himself at the center of controversy when he dared to publish his serial killer novel, American Psycho in 1991, a book with both graphic violence and sexual content. Ellis told his tale in the first person through the eyes of Manhattan serial killer Patrick Bateman, and while before it, many books had been written about serial killers, American Psycho hit a nerve, outraged many and resulted in the author being called a misogynist.
Shortly after its publication and the brouhaha it created, Ellis responded to the criticisms in The New York Times stating, “I had no idea the novel would provoke the reception it’s gotten, and I still don’t quite get it...But then I was not trying to add members to my fan club. You do not write a novel for praise, or thinking of your audience. You write for yourself; you work out between you and your pen the things that intrigue you.”
Critics and readers questioned Ellis’s humanity, wondering how he could write such stuff; that such evil could reside within him. How could he think of such disgusting things? I read American Psycho in 1991, but not right away; so when I was reading it, news hit the airways on July 22, 1991 that a Jeffrey Dahmer had been apprehended. Dahmer’s story was one of rape, murder, dismemberment, necrophilia and cannibalism – and it wasn’t a tale of fiction but horribly true.
It all suddenly made sense to me; where had Bret Easton Ellis found inspiration for the murders committed by his fictional protagonist Patrick Bateman? By being well read.
Whether visiting the ‘True Crime’ section of your local book store or merely perusing history books, there is no limitation to discovering the numerous ways and means in which humans have found to torment and murder one another. A simple visit to the Tower of London and a journey through its macabre museum of wax dummies, demonstrating the creative ways used to kill, is merely a small sampling of how the human imagination and our dark desire to hate and kill can make for the most perverse and repulsive results.
“At bottom, you see, we are not Homo sapiens as all,” said Stephen King, in a quote pulled from Goodreads.com. “Our core is madness. The prime directive is murder. What Darwin was too polite to say, my friends, is that we came to rule the earth not because we were the smartest, or even the meanest, but because we have always been the craziest, most murderous motherfuckers in the jungle...”
Now horror writers are often given a little more leeway when presenting violence, seeing as based on the genre, we accept that it could never be real. While a possessed car named Christine is highly entertaining, and her tale will keep you on the edge of your seat, we needn’t fear that we could run into that scenario in our everyday lives. Writing about the depravity and murderous desires of humankind, in the realm of serial killers, however, is possible, and God forbid could touch or cross our lives, if we’re unlucky enough that fate has that in store for us.
So how far do we take it? Do we try and sanitize it, keeping the killing in our thrillers and novels within the realms of acceptability, much like on TV shows like Bones, Criminal Minds, and many others too numerous to mention? Or did Bret Easton Ellis have it right? If you’re going to write about the ugliness of human’s do so with abandon—make the reader uncomfortable with the entertainment they have chosen for the evening. Is that not the writer’s obligation? Should not reading about murder make us uncomfortable?
I recently checked out a forum on Goodreads in which American Psycho was discussed. The general consensus was that the book was horrible...or should I say repulsive? The way I look at it, the book elicited strong reactions from those readers and there is no rule that says that art is only art and of value so long as it pleases. Like it or not, understand what the author was attempting or not, the fact it brought about such strong emotions, means the words on the page worked.
In a day and age where writing what he did could have gotten him executed, The Marquis de Sade elected to either purge or embrace his demons, depending on what your interpretation of his character is, if you’ve read any of the numerous biographies. In telling his story, Bret Easton Ellis decided not to censor himself, but to put the ugliness of his character on the printed page, pulling no punches, as they say.
I’ve faced the same dilemma, seeing how I’ve embraced the thriller genre as the core of my writing efforts. How far am I willing to go?
Growing up, I loved comedy. My heroes were John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray and their contemporaries. If I could pen a script like Animal House, Stripes or Ghostbusters, making people laugh, I’d count that as a solid victory. And I do write comedy. Recently I’ve given two sketches to a producer and comedian to be filmed for their website and YouTube channel. I’ve also written several comedy scripts – the hardest of them all to write. As I recently said to a producer, it’s much easier to make someone cry than to make them laugh.
Despite the comedy that lurks within me, there also lies a darkness that I can’t explain, or at least a fascination with the dark nature of humans and what we’re capable of committing. The writings of The Marquis de Sade have inspired the current novel I’m writing, The Marquis Mark. In embracing that inspiration, I also promised myself that like the Marquis, and many others who have written words that have unnerved readers, I wouldn’t hold back, but dare to put the ugliness on the page. There are many moments during the process when I’ve been uncomfortable, and at least one chapter, that I hesitated to write as it pushed the boundaries of what I was comfortable with. I am not writing a book to shock, but embracing an idea that has been brewing in my mind for quite some time, and has finally decided it was time to be released.
The first draft of The Marquis Mark is almost finished, but it will be quite some time still before I can make it available. There are the inevitable re-writes to polish the manuscript; I’ve found the advice regarding putting a manuscript away for a period of time before revisiting it, is extremely helpful in making it ready for reader’s eyes. Whether it will ever find a readership, I can’t say, but if it does, and if in reading parts of it you find yourself feeling a little uncomfortable or challenged, please dear reader, don’t ask yourself how can the author write such things? How could is mind come up with such dark ideas? The truth is actually very simple, I’m well read.
In ending a blog on dark dreamers, it only seems fitting to quote one of the originals – if not the original – who unnerved his readers with his dark tales, Edgar Allen Poe: “There are moments when even to the sober eye of reason, the world of our sad humanity may assume the semblances of Hell.”
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