3 min
Why Do We Tell Ghost Stories?
From collecting candy to carving pumpkins, Halloween is defined by its traditions, and few are as time-honored as the telling of ghost stories. Whether recounted by crackling campfires, read from well-worn books or streamed on big-screen TVs, supernatural tales seem to take on a special resonance in the lead-up to October 31. And, on the whole, we seem more than comfortable enduring chills and braving thrills to enjoy them. But what draws our attention, season after season, to things that go bump in the night? And what makes the paranormal such a powerful, and persistent, storytelling device? Mary Mullen, PhD, is an associate professor of English at Villanova University and the instructor of the course "Ghostly Matters," which delves into haunting's role in culture, history and society. From her perspective, our longstanding fascination with spirits, specters and phantoms speaks as much to our concern for the world around us as to our interest in the hereafter. "At their core, ghost stories unsettle us," says Dr. Mullen. "They raise questions about what we consider normal, what we view as 'everyday life,' what we value as 'modern' and whether the past is still with us or not." As Dr. Mullen explains, when we're presented with something that's "haunted," we're essentially being asked to consider the reasons why. The very existence of spirits, emerging from beyond the grave, compels us to reflect on their presence's meaning—and to think about what developments might draw the ire, intrigue or intervention of the dead. (When watching Steven Spielberg's "Poltergeist," for instance, a viewer might feel the movie's ghosts are completely justified in terrorizing the profit-hungry real estate firm that disturbed their eternal slumbers.) Spirits, in turn, consistently set our focus on items left unsaid, unconsidered or overlooked. Departed yet still present, drifting somewhere between this plane and the next, they often challenge the living's notions of progress, propriety and success—and signal a last-ditch effort at preserving something that has all but faded from recollection. In effect, they bring the past into dialogue with the present for the sake of the future. "Ghost stories are really useful for contemplating transition and change and what's lost in the process," says Dr. Mullen. "They give a name to things that are liminal… For example, Luke Gibbons [a professor at Maynooth University] says that ghost stories, in modern Irish writing, are frequently connected to memories that haven't yet become public history. So, they speak to facets of social life that exist, or have existed, but are not present in monuments or official accounts." From Virginia Woolf's "A Haunted House" to Toni Morrison's "Beloved," tales of the supernatural provide us with what Dr. Mullen terms "glimmers of possibilities." They serve to mirror and embody our complicated feelings on transformative happenings, whether personal, communal or generational, and they afford us the language and vocabulary to express sadness over what is done and hope for what is yet to come. "There are certainly ghost stories, like Elizabeth Bowen's 'The Demon Lover,' that end in absolute terror with no seeming resolution," says Dr. Mullen. "But I think that, in a lot of these tales, haunting leads to reconciliation, or different kinds of healing or important acknowledgements—of things that need to be acknowledged." As Dr. Mullen proceeds to explain, it's no coincidence that the roots of the contemporary ghost story can be traced to the 19th century, a period of great social upheaval, cultural displacement and scientific and technological advancement. The product and reflection of a tumultuous "new age," the genre, as we know it, took hold as a means of reckoning with that which was lost, actively transpiring and still to occur. Perhaps it's no surprise then that, as the leaves begin changing and autumn starts giving way to winter, we have an affinity for tales that center on visits from the afterlife, bridging the past, present and future. "I think that we tell ghost stories when we're open to moving beyond our sense of 'the everyday,'" says Dr. Mullen. "And there are certain points of the year, like the holidays and gatherings with family and friends, that are so rich with emotion and memory that the boundary between this world and the 'otherworld' seems maybe—just maybe—capable of being crossed."