THE HORROR FICTION REVIEW

        HFR Interview    by Christine Morgan

 

KIM PAFFENROTH

(Dr. Kim Paffenroth is an Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Iona College, New York.  When he's not busy with his students, he relaxes by writing apocalyptic zombie novels, and has won the Bram Stoker Award for non-fiction with his 2006 release GOSPEL OF THE LIVING DEAD: GEORGE ROMERO'S VISIONS OF HELL ON EARTH.  Dr. Kim took some time from his hectic schedule to speak with the HFR's Christine Morgan)

 

 

HORROR FICTION REVIEW: Congratulations on the debut of Valley of the Dead, and your various other recent successes and projects! What was the inspiration and decision process behind revisiting Dante’s journey? Where did you turn for research and resources?

Kim Paffenroth: When I wrote my analysis of Romero’s films, Gospel of the Living Dead (Baylor, 2006), one of the things that struck me was how similar his zombies were to the damned in Dante’s Inferno – not so much tormented or punished, as just dull, tedious, mindless brutes, endlessly repeating their stupid, useless activities. Later it occurred to me to reverse the idea of the influence: what if Romero’s zombies were liked Dante’s damned, because Dante had seen a zombie uprising, and had incorporated the horrors he saw there into his poem? I knew there was a huge gap of 17 years in his biography, when nearly anything could’ve plausibly happened, so it seemed too good to resist.

The daily writing process became a wonderful journey for me back through Inferno, going through each canto and thinking how would I present these sinners in zombie form, how would I communicate what was monstrous about what they did, without resorting to Christian ideas of hell, sin, Satan, or God? And that’s what was the really exhilarating part of the project – to present a secularized, not-specifically-Christian version of hell. I remember when we read Dante in college, the question came up, “What if all this is made up? What if when you die, you just cease to exist, as many people believe?” and the professor was rightly insistent, I think, that it didn’t matter, so long as the poem presented an interesting and persuasive case as to why these behaviors are bad, and why one behavior is worse than another. That defense of Dante really stuck with me, and when I thought I could offer a new, 21st century, zombified defense of his vision – I was humbled and overjoyed. I knew it was the zombie novel I was meant to write, the kind of story and presentation that only someone with my background and interests could pull off. 


 
HFR: Why zombies? Many of your works, fictional and non-, have centered around the undead. What’s the appeal, to you as a writer and to the reading public? What makes them so popular?

KP: We don’t just find death scary, so much as we find it interesting. It’s the one thing no one knows about for certain, though we’re all sure we’re going to experience it one day. So the “normal” process of dying, death, and grieving is disturbing and disorienting to all of us, and a scenario in which this process is somehow disrupted would be even more dreadful – and more interesting, more revealing of who we are, and what we value. And there’s a wide range of reactions: you can be shocked and appalled at walking corpses, or, as with “gallows humor,” you can laugh at the undead – either in a story like Shaun of the Dead or Fido, or by gleefully cackling as you shoot them in the head in House of the Dead at the arcade or Left 4 Dead at home. So the fascination and reaction to the undead is as varied, and runs as deep, as our natural preoccupation with death. 
 
 

 

HFR: You’re a theologian, a professor, an academic. You’re also a writer of horror fiction. What are some of the challenges you’ve faced bridging what might seem to be a gap between two diverse worlds? How do the skills and experiences support, or hinder, each? What’s the reaction been among the respective communities?

KP: For me it’s been delightful. I love ideas, puzzles, difficulties; and at first, I thought I’d explore them by writing essays and books about other people’s ideas – doing analysis and interpretation, in other words. I’m good at that and I still enjoy it. But when it dawned on me that I just might be able to make my own creative work, that was so exciting, for it opened up a new way to approach the things I love and find interesting, and a new (and much larger) audience I could reach. I do realize the kinds of writing are quite different, and I know that gives my fiction a certain fussy or precious sound to it sometimes, but so long as I work to control and guide that, I think it gives me a voice that some readers have enjoyed and find a little different from others.

Reaction? I’m sure there are haters in both communities, but most people find the combination of what I do at least intriguing, usually even a little interesting.

 

 
HFR: Could you share with us some of your main creative influences, be they literary, cinematic, musical, personal, etc.? What guided you along this particular path and helped shape you into the writer you are today?

 

KP: It’s one of life’s greatest challenges, seeing how everything fits together to make a kind of sense – to see one’s life not as random, but as somehow fated, or at least meaningful. And then it’s even harder to explain that narrative to someone else, since they don’t have the same experiences! I’d say that I’ve been shaped very much by disappointment – not huge or unusual disappointments, I suppose, but I think I learned early that life wasn’t going to go the way I wanted or expected it to. We moved a lot when I was young, so I never had a sense of stability or rootedness. My mother died when I was thirteen. I got used to things being uncertain and unreliable, but a lot of the hurt lingered, especially in the kind of music I gravitated toward (angry Heavy Metal) and the kind of movies I liked (horror). I’m grateful and lucky that as I got older, I found literature that presented some more complex and often more positive reactions to disappointment and suffering – Dante, for example, and also people like Pascal, Dostoevsky, and Melville. For the flipside or the corrective to disappointment and sadness is not optimism or blithe acceptance, I don’t think, but something more mysterious, like awe or wonder. When I write what I think is a beautiful scene, it usually has to do with a character having that kind of epiphany, breaking through their pain to that kind of understanding; and when I pull off a scene like that, it’s some wonderful combination of my own pain, together with the wisdom and comfort I’ve found in books like those I mentioned.

 
HFR: What kinds of scenes do you find easiest and most fun to write? Conversely, what kinds of scenes are difficult for you, why do you think that is, and how do you get past the hurdles?

KP: I am surprised a little that I find dialogue easy to write. I’m not always thrilled with the results and I have to go back over them a few times to smooth them into what I think sounds more natural, but at least I get them on the page the first time quickly and easily. Contemplative scenes (of which I probably have too many) are the most easy, because it’s how I look at the world normally – my mind is full of asides and associations on its own; I’m hardly a person of action, I’m afraid. But when I write, I probably shouldn’t go over such scenes too many times, as I tend to pile on more and more introspection and description and pretty soon you’ve got 2500 words of something that should probably be more to the point. But hardest of all for me to get down on the page are action scenes. I overblock them and overthink them, though once I go over them and trim them, I think they turn out pretty good. So I guess it’s a matter of using your strengths as a thinker and observer, and then rewriting those parts that come less naturally to you. 

 


 
 
HFR: Valley of the Dead is in part an examination of sins. So, ‘fess up … what are some of your bad habits, guilty pleasures, and dirty secrets?

 

KP: Oh, you are the naughty one! Well, if I think of the Seven Deadly Sins, there are only three that don’t appeal to me at all – sloth, avarice, and envy. I really can’t think of having done any of those with any seriousness or frequency. But the other four I could do all day, every day, and never notice that I was doing anything wrong, I’d be so blissfully lost in them. And probably like most analytical people, I have a tendency to rationalize bad behavior, think of ways in which it’s really good, or at least think of ways I can get away with it or justify it if I am caught, and Dante would say that’s a much worse trap than those sins that come naturally or are pleasurable. 
 
 
HFR: On the flip side of the above question, how about the virtues? What would you consider your best traits, greatest achievements, proudest moments?

KP: I work hard. I’m not a very personable or outgoing person, but when I make friends with someone, I’m very loyal to him or her. And I can get really upset too easily, but I don’t stay mad – I’ve known people who can hold grudges for fifty years, and that seems inconceivable to me. So when I rein in my selfish, angry moments, I can be kind of fun to be around.

Accomplishments? When I write something and go back and read it and it’s better than I remember it, that’s pretty nice. It’s a private moment, but one of my favorites. 
 
 
HFR: What’s coming along next for you? What are you currently working on, what sort of long-range plans and goals do you have, and what’s your wildest literary ambition?

KP: I have a new zombie anthology with Permuted due out later this year, and I’m working on the third volume in the Dying to Live universe. I’m shopping a non-zombie novel (?!) – a contemporary ghost story into which I really put a lot of emotion. It’s a very personal story, less about monsters and mayhem, and more just about the hurt we cause the people closest to us when we lie and cover up.

Long range? I have some other novels at more preliminary stages – just thinking of the ideas and starting to outline them. I’m wondering if a few more entries in the “Great Books of the Western Canon – Now with Zombies!” series might be called for. (It was not my intention when I did Valley, really!)

Wildest? I’ve had so much fun adapting one of my favorite authors, Dante, and retelling his story how I’d like it to be, that I wonder if that’s my niche, in some way. So if I had to think of a wild project to be enlisted for, it’d be cool if I could reboot a more recent and popular series or character, one of my heroes from comic books or television. It seems really fun to play in a universe that has the rules all set, and you have to figure out how to push them and innovate with them, but without going outside the “canon.” Freedom within boundaries may just be how my mind works. 

 


 
 
HFR: How do you see the state of horror as a genre? Where do you think it’s headed, and what might we expect to see over the next few years? Got any obligatory writing advice or words of wisdom for pros and would-be newcomers alike?

 

KP: Hey, I thought Streets of Fire was the greatest film of the 80s, so I’m not much of a prognosticator on cultural trends. I’d like to see horror writing develop away from being so dependent and so much in the shadow of films. (And, for that matter, I’d like films – horror and otherwise – to be less about visual spectacle and more about plot and character.)

Advice? Just to listen to everyone, file the advice away to consider later – and also consider its source, because you’ll get plenty of conflicting advice, and you need some way to prioritize it. Cultivate friendships – everyone needs friends, for they make your successes more enjoyable, and your defeats more bearable.
 
 
HFR: What’s your usual routine? Walk us through a typical day in the life of Kim Paffenroth!

KP: Since I’m a parent and I have a day job, I’m afraid I’m at the beck and call of others, so if it’s a teaching day, or a grocery shopping day, or a pick up the kids from their ten different activities day, then that’s what I’ll be doing. When I have a more “open” day, then it’s up at 8am, coffee, email, read the NYTimes, write for four or five hours, read (usually lit crit, cause I love it so much when it’s done well), take a nap, make dinner, do the dishes, take a walk. If I’m feeling productive, back for another couple hours of writing after dinner – if not feeling productive, then play World of Warcraft, watch some TV, go to bed. Pretty boring stuff, I know, but it’s been fun.

 

 

 

(Among Kim Paffenroth's books are: GOSPEL OF THE LIVING DEAD (2006) DYING TO LIVE (2006) ORPHEUS AND THE PEARL (2008), and DYING TO LIVE 2: LIFE SENTENCE (2008) )

 

(MUCH thanks to the good Dr. for his time and insights!)