Don't go into the basement. It's a rule every horror fan knows, and after decades of writing creepy films, from Stephen King adaptations to "Halloween" sequels, the author should know. Yet horror is more than the sum of its scares. It is art at its most primal and communal, and it frightens us together.
The author's father taught him that lesson from beyond the grave. Three years after his death, his stepmother discovered six boxes in the building's storage area, in the basement. Inside was a collection of 899 vintage comic books, untouched for decades, filled with beloved horror titles such as "The Tomb of Dracula," "Swamp Thing" and "The Haunt of Fear." His father, a psychiatrist and writer, had kept his true passion hidden.
The author's father was a highly sensitive man raised in a decidedly insensitive environment in Brooklyn. Like many such men, he built psychological walls to protect himself, and those barriers blocked attempts at emotional intimacy. Horror became his love language. He made his son watch "The Blob" and sneaked him into screenings of slasher films, and the two shared a moment during a jump scare at "Dawn of the Dead" when his father grabbed his knee.
The author spent much of his life longing to connect with his father. He now realizes that horror was never just about scares. The comics in the basement forced a realization that the shared fear was the bridge between them.
Source: New York Times Top Stories · Summarized by HeadlinesBriefing