"Cosmic vs. Abrahamic Horror" by F. Paul Wilson

"Cosmic vs. Abrahamic Horror" by F. Paul Wilson is the third and last essay in the Cosmic Horror Issue of Weird Tales. The text of Mr. Wilson's essay is a little less than two and a half pages long. There are two illustrations. One is a half-page, main-title illustration showing a man (wearing a blue turban), a woman, and a crying boy in a Renaissance-like tableau. The man and woman have tentacled faces. The spot drawing at the end of the essay also shows tentacles. Again, we were supposed to have something new in Weird Tales #367. Tentacles have been in genre fiction since at least The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells, published in 1897 and 1898.

Mr. Wilson's essay is the best of the three in this issue. Unlike the first, it's not a list. Unlike the second, it's not written in an academic tone, nor does it use academic-type language. There are lots of names and proper nouns in his essay, but that's as it should be, for Mr. Wilson is exploring history, culture, and so on.

I think Mr. Wilson gets pretty well to the essence of weird fiction, a sub-genre that could be included in Abrahamic horror. He writes: "Abrahamic sensibilities involve an orderly cosmos ruled by a provident Creator who watches over the domain he created because He cares." (p. 46) In that ordered cosmos there are laws. To break them is to transgress. F. Paul Wilson writes that vengeance and retribution are brought down upon transgressors. I have used the word punishment, but I think we're talking about the same thing.

I have also written that in weird fiction there is a crossing over of some kind. The literal meaning of the word transgress is "step across, step over, or go beyond." In his essay, Mr. Wilson writes of the typical Abrahamic horror story plot: "You have transgressed by wandering into a territory claimed by another and so a toll must be exacted." (p. 47) That's essentially the plot of the weird tale.

F. Paul Wilson brings up Rosemary's Baby and The Exorcist and the intrusion of evil into the world. "Why is it intruding? To corrupt us via doubt and fear so we'll abandon the Creator. But again, why? Simple: because we matter." He continues in the following paragraph: "And there beats the heart of Abrahamic horror: Humanity matters." In contrast, he writes that cosmic horror does not "recognize any value in your humanity." (p. 47) I guess you could say that in cosmic horror, because it is materialistic, humanity is matter.

Neither of the authors in the first two essays in Weird Tales #367 defines cosmic horror very well, if at all. F. Paul Wilson does, though, and you wonder why we needed the other two:

• "Cosmic horror paints a portrait of human insignificance." (p. 49)

• "Chaos reigns." (p. 49)

• "Abrahamic horror is spiritual; cosmic horror is materialistic" (p. 49)

And this is why, I think, there is so much appeal in cosmic horror to its readers and writers, for they are or appear to be nonbelievers. They think of themselves and their existence--of all human existence--as meaningless and without hope. And being nonbelievers, they are and must needs be materialists. I don't know about you, but I would not want to shrink my mind that way. I would rather keep it open and expansive. By the way, the three bulleted quotes above are in the exact middle of the Cosmic Horror Issue. On the opposite page is an advertisement. So maybe we should be call this the Cosmic-Commercial Horror Issue.

Mr. Wilson mentions what he calls "the hoariest and most familiar horror clichés." (p. 47) Another word for these is tropes, and they are on full display even in fiction that is supposed to be new and brave and fierce. He also indicts about half of the works so far in this issue with this simple statement: "The scholar who ventures too close to the abyss or opens a passage to the Other Side and pays a hideous price are a dime a dozen," (p. 49), for in the Cosmic Horror Issue of Weird Tales, there are the following stories:

• "The City in the Sea" by Christopher Golden and Mike Mignola, in which a scholar ventures too close . . .

• "A Ghost Story for Christmas" by Paul Cornell, in which an atheist/materialist and possibly autistic TV watcher ventures too close . . .

• "Night Fishing" by Caitlín R. Kiernan, in which an unnamed physicist, serial killer, and probably also atheist (as is the author of the story) ventures too close . . .

Yeah, a dime a dozen. I wonder how the other authors represented here feel about F. Paul Wilson's statement, for it's more or less a prediction of how they would fall short in writing stories that were supposed to be different and new.

To open his essay, Mr. Wilson refers to "this Catholic boy who discovered cosmic horror at age thirteen [. . .]." (p. 46) He was that boy of course. I don't know where he stands now as far as his beliefs go. That's none of my business. I'll just point out that Mike Mignola was also raised Catholic.

In his closing, F. Paul Wilson addresses the conflict of his title, writing, "Both approaches have their place, and the Abrahamic will go on as long as there are those who believe, just as its antithesis will persist as long as there are those who don't." (p. 49)

I think that means forever.

I'll close my essay by suggesting that F. Paul Wilson's idea of Abrahamic versus Cosmic horror could be related to Jack Williamson's idea of Egyptian-Hebraic versus Classically Greek stories of Dystopia and Utopia, which gave us, respectively, weird fiction (among other things) and science fiction (also among other things).

Original text copyright 2024 Terence E. Hanley