Fear and Perception

     I just recently received my copy of Richard Matheson's 1954 classic, I am Legend (and other stories) which I ordered through Barnes & Noble's website (bn.com). I instantly started reading the book as soon as I got it and finished in a few hours. It kept me captivated the entire time. I enjoy a good horror novel. The ones that leave much to the imagination. (This book partially being of that nature) Reason being, is because

those that leave little to the imagination leave no room to think about possibilities contained in or outside the story. Instead they present you with a scenario, it's facts, and say: this is how it happened and why. In some cases this could be good. An example would be explaining the scenario's background at the beginning of the horror novel. However, I usually view leaving little to think about as a bad thing. If you have a wild imagination like myself, you can imagine if you took your favorite horror novel/movie/short story and it didn't explain half of the things contained within itself. You would, of course, automatically fill in the gaps. That's partially what I think makes a terrifying story. It leaves you with partially unanswered questions or "what if" pieces to think about as you go to bed. Causing you to project scenarios in your mind of what if this happened? or why did it turn out this way? along with all the horrible images that come along with such thinking. That's scary. That's real horror. It's almost like it's putting you in the story by making you run through each little detail over and over constantly asking yourself: when? how? why?

     Another subject matter presented in the book (or at least, this is what I gleaned from the story) is our perception of what a Monster is. You might say it's whatever I fear or hate or despise. That would be partially correct. It is whatever you fear, hate, etc. but why do you think that way about whatever you perceive as a Monster? Is it because of what you've read? What you've seen? What you've been told by your Parents? Your friends? Yourself even? Truly, it's all these factors put together that make up what our society tells us is to be feared, shunned, even hated and destroyed. I absolutely enjoyed reading about how by day Robert Neville (the main character) would stock up on much needed supplies and then go out and silently execute the infected Vampire denizens of his neighborhood. (There were always more as they came about his house at night and slept in the immediate vicinity by day). What's interesting is that this entire time he considered what he was doing as not only necessary for his survival, (by possibly thinning their number enough so that he would no longer be threatened) but he viewed them as voracious Monsters out for only one thing. His blood. To feed and cause him to join their ranks. They could speak and could think as they tried numerous ways to enter his home, but they were nothing more then in-human Monsters to him. (Aren't Vampires Monsters to us as well?) After three years of surviving, hunting, hiding, killing, he was ah... well I'd rather not give away how the ending is brought about, but I'll explain the ending. He was captured and found himself awaiting execution by the Vampires themselves, as he was the only non-infected person seeming left on Earth. As he was waiting for Death, he went to the barred window to look out at the crowd screaming for his blood once more, not to nourish themselves with it, but to see it spilt upon the ground. When a few among the crowd saw him standing at the window they cried out and a massive hush spread among them. By the torchlight looking out he could see their faces. Awestruck, fearful, horrified faces looking at him, unable to move. They viewed him as the true Monster, the abomination who by day hunted and killed their fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. He now understood that the majority of Earth, now what he would call Monsters, saw him and cringed back in fear. He was the real monster here, not them.