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Based on a true story. You must’ve seen this many times in the opening credits of a film. This is particularly the case with works of the Gothic or horror genres. But why do true stories in Gothic or horror fiction appeal to us so much?

Moreover, does the phrase “a true horror story” make sense or not? Remember, good horror fiction should be about the supernatural – no ambiguities allowed. Movies like The Exorcist accept the supernatural (and treat it as such). Compare that to Scooby-Doo Gothic, where there is always a natural explanation for everything.

The “based on a true story” trope is older than you might think. Moreover, just in case you wondered, “based on a true story” is not a writing gimmick but a case of legitimate creative manipulation.

In this post we’ll take a look at its origins and, more importantly, its significance.

Origins: The Trope of the Found Manuscript

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is her most famous work, but another of her novels, less known, is more pertinent for the topic of true stories in Gothic and horror. I’m talking about The Last Man, one of the earliest post-apocalyptic novels.

The Last Man features one of the most typical narrative mechanisms of the Gothic canon: the found manuscript.

The found manuscript trope refers to the narrative device of presenting the events of the novel as a true story, which the author (supposedly) discovered in a manuscript and decided to turn into a book. The trope of the found manuscript (or discovered manuscript) is the starting point for analyzing how (again, supposedly) true stories in Gothic and horror operate.

Remember my post on fake news? That’s what this is all about! You present something fake as true, in order to instigate affect.

Stories and Prophecies of The Last Man

Mary Shelley offers The Last Man

as an ancient prophecy by the Cumæan Sybil, written on Sibylline leaves (in various ancient and modern languages) found in a hidden cave in 1818 by an anonymous “author” … It is an ancient prophecy of a future apocalypse written retrospectively by its lone survivor, who looks back upon the final decades of the human race’s existence from the year 2100.

Albright, Richard S. Writing the Past, Writing the Future: Time and Narrative in Gothic and Sensation Fiction. Bethlehem: Lehigh University Press, 2009. pp 133–134

It becomes obvious that this narrative framework has two effects:

• It destabilizes the narrative by disrupting its temporal scheme. This way, it causes the reader to feel uncomfortable, anxious, and alarmed – an important aspect of a Gothic novel.
• It presents the events of the story as a true story, yet one that has not yet occurred!

The brilliance of Mary Shelley lies in her framing the events as a fulfilled (or, to-be-fulfilled) prophecy. Doing so, she adds an additional booster to the “based on a true story” trick. If you feel nervous about a scary true story (because it has happened), guess what’s worse: a scary true story that will happen.

Which brings us to the purposes of true stories in Gothic and horror.

True Stories in Gothic and Horror: a Matter of Affect

In the introduction of the post I (rhetorically) asked whether the phrase “a true horror story” makes sense.

Think about it. If a horror story must be predicated on the supernatural (and not on possible illusion, madness, or anything of the sort, as in the Gothic), then by definition there can’t be such a thing as a true horror story. There aren’t ghosts, demons, and monsters, right?

Right? Right?

Well… Yes. That’s true. But, as the old saying goes, “Of course I don’t believe in ghosts. But I’m still afraid of them”.

In other words, the reason “true” stories in Gothic and horror function so well is a matter of affect. The author, by suggesting that the story you’re about to read (or watch) is true, destabilizes your sense of reality.

This way, an author can place the audience in an inherently paradoxical state of believing that which does not exist. You might think it’s naive or unsophisticated, but try watching The Exorcist during the day with friends, then during the night alone, and get back to me!

Fear Is a Temporally Peculiar State

As I said in my article on the temporality of stress, we are never afraid in the past or future, but in the eternal now.

Of course, it’s easy to forget that all experiencing occurs in the present moment. We also can’t feel angry yesterday or tomorrow. Yet there is something uniquely peculiar about fear, when it comes to its various manifestations. Your memory of past fears is trauma. Your anticipation of future fears is stress.

Horror and Gothic narratives focus on how you feel here-and-now with their threatening settings and, respectively, supernatural or ambiguous creatures and happenings.

But skillful creators can also scare you in the past or future, deploying various strategies. The Gothic motif of captivity can be unsettling to you if it triggers memories of some relevant past experience. Similarly, the horror motif of demonic possession can cause significant anxiety to those who believe in the supernatural.

The “based on a true story” motif in Gothic and horror works is precisely such a strategy. “Based on a true story” has nothing to do with a pseudo-separation between fiction and reality. In a way, this trope is temporal in nature. Its goal is to scare you now and later.

Closing the pages of a fictional book, the world is usually back to normal. But not with such stories. Because you remember the deceptively innocent message at the beginning: “Based on a true story”.

Sleep well. There are no ghosts!

…

Right?