The twenty-first century has seen popular culture overrun with tales of the zombie and post-apoocalyptic fiction, thanks to works such as, World War Z (2002), 28 Days Later (2002), and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2009). They are exciting and compelling to us an audience, but they also ‘expose threats to human responsibility and influence.’ These threats to our humanity, ’embodied in the zombie mythos are very real, even if partially masked by the surreal, fantastic, or ridiculous.
While society’s fascination with the gothic and the living dead is not a new and modern exploit, as similar tales have been around for centuries such as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818), it has however led to the creation of phenomena such as The Walking Dead (2010), and worlds in which the viewer/reader can immerse themselves in, as they know that what they are experiencing before them is merely a work of fiction; yet the possibility of these worlds feel more real than ever.
Since their first depiction in the film White Zombie (1932), developed from Haitian folklore, zombies have taken on a more metaphorical and meaningful role, symbolic of more ‘deep cultural fears and tensions, such as racism, enslavement of racial minorities, cannibalism, bioterrorism and disease outbreaks, the fall of rationality and independence to instinct-motivated herd mentality and the complete numbing of humanity.’
In Post 9/11 Culture
In the aftermath of 9/11, the zombie became one of the predominant figures in literature and film, a medium through which larger fears were masked, and prompting audiences to question their own positions within society. They have become a ‘blank template’ onto which we graft all sorts of human anxieties, and they have been used to both symbolically ‘work through and reproduce anxieties surrounding terrorism, immigration, contagious diseases, and apocalyptic events.’
Within post 9/11 zombie fiction, ‘the very presence of a zombie-other conjured up ideas of risk and transmission, social dissent and upheaval. This is threatening because of its very undoing of norms.’ Pielak and Cohen note that people ‘fear zombies not only because they are monsters, but because they might themselves become monsters, or even more terrifyingly, they might already be monsters.’
While zombies are not living, they appear to be the most human of all gothic figures (such as the vampire and the wereworld) but are seemingly devoid of all sentiment, emotion and compassion, which makes them utterly terrifying to the audience. In this context, they are a projection of the greater fear of the capabilities of human beings – it appears so easy for zombies to turn upon one another and commit senseless acts with no degree of remorse or compassion for their victims – allowing the audience to question how far we human beings are willing to go. The zombies, then, symbolically represent the terrorists and other ‘monsters’ of post 9/11 society, and if it was so easy for them to be consumed and corrupted by the disease that is terrorism, it begs the question as to what it would take, how far we would go, and how long it would be before the rest of society ends up corrupted in the same way. The realisation that we are not that different from those terrorists and monsters as we once thought we were, ultimately makes them even more terrifying. As Pielak and Cohen further suggest: ‘They were once human. They simultaneously serve as a threat of what we might become, and a mirror for what we are.’
From Folklore to Fiction
The zombie as we know it today is ‘the one stock horror character that does not have a genealogy in European tradition, or much presence in gothic fiction, as to the ghost, werewolf, and Frankenstein.’ Instead, the figure of the zombie that has been neglected within gothic fiction originated in Haitian folklore, with a ‘great majority of the Haitian population firmly believing in the existence of zombies, cannibalism and the transformation of human beings into animals.’
The myth of the zombie first appeared in a French-ruled Haiti (formerly known as Saint Domingue), during the 17th and 18th centuries in which slaves were imported from Africa in order to work on the sugar plantations. However, the slavery they experience under the governing of the French was brutal and many of the slaves were worked to death within a number of years’ consequently leading to the capture and importation of more slaved from Africa.
The zombie, as it appeared in Haiti ‘mirrored the inhumanity that existed there from 1625 to 1800, and was a projection of the African slaves’ relentless misery and subjugation.’ The slaves believed that in death they would return back to a form of the afterlife, known as lan guinee (Guinea/Africa and general), where they would be allowed to live in freedom. However, they believed that only those who died naturally would be permitted to enter, and those who took their own lives (which was common among slaves), would be forbidden. Instead, they would be condemned to roam the Hisaponiola for eternity as an undead slave, ‘denied their own body, yet still trapped inside them – as a ‘soulless zombie.”
After the end of the Haitian revolution of 1804 and French colonialism, the zombie became and integral part of Haitian folklore. Though, the myth evolved and became intertwined with the Voodoo religion, with Haitians believing that zombies were ‘corpses reanimated by shamans and voodoo priests.’ They believe that sorcerers used the undead as a form of free labour in order to carry our their heinous tasks. This was the post-colonialism zombie, as ‘an emblem of a nation haunted by the legacy of slavery and ever wary within film, in White Zombie in 1932.’
The Postmodern Zombie in Warm Bodies
Within postmodern popular culture, zombie storylines ‘generally culminate in one of two ways – mass defeat of all the living dead (either through physical elimination, quarantine, or subjugation) or the eradication of all humanity.’ However, Isaac Marion’s 2011 novel Warm Bodies, becomes an exception to this. Not only do zombies in the novel co-exist with humans from the very beginning, though they do live at opposite ends of the city, the entire plot is driven by an unlikely romance between a zombie and a human. As Sasha Cocarla suggests, ‘uniquely diverting from more traditional rotting corpse plotlines, Warm Bodies positions heteronormative desire and romance at the forefront of the story.’ In Love Your Zombie: Horror, Ethics and Excess, Fred Botting argued that zombies are ‘neither individuals or living beings, possess little conversation, have limited table manners or witty repartee, little fashion sense, no personal hygiene or intelligent opinions on matters culture, without higher brain function, speech, self-consciousness and sensitivity.’ Marion also subverts traditional stereotypes, taking an overdone and cliche theme, turning it into a story that is ‘extraordinary and ordinary, transgressive and uniform, and queered and normative’ and ‘a deep and insightful look at life as it could be, life as it is, and what matters when seeking to preserve it.’
The Sympathetic Zombie
In most zombie narratives, the living dead are depicted as finding a thrill in eating human brains. Most popular fiction in film, emphasise this through grotesque images of zombies chewing away flesh and covered in blood, with grind upon their faces.’ However, for Marion’s protagonist Zombie, R, there is no thrill and no enjoyment taken in the devouring of human brains. He does not find the act itself fulfilling, however he does take pleasure in the after effects that eating a human brain has on him. He is flooded with memories, intense images, and emotions, belonging to the owner of the brain; and while these are short-lived effects for most other zombies, for R, they are much more long lasting and allow him to feel ‘less dead.’ This notably, is the first inclination that R is not like all the other zombies that he finds himself acquainted with. It is only after R eats the brains of Perry Kelvin, and develops romantic feelings towards Julie, Perry’s girlfriend, it is apparent just how different he is to other zombies, and is capable of more deep, philosophical musings. The memories of Perry affect R in a way that he has never experienced before, as he is overwhelmed with intense pain and emotion – obscure for a zombie, as they are often portrayed as being mindless, with the lack of ability to feel anything.
R’s difference from other zombies is further emphasised through his developing romantic relationship with Julie. On Page 41, he narrates that ‘I wince at her use of the word human. I’ve never liked that differentiation. She is living and I’m dead, but I’d like to believe we are both human. Call me an idealist.’ Here, by having R highlight the notion that they are not in fact entirely different beings, and they share some form of humanity with each other, Marion is blurring the lines between the living and the dead. This, combined with R’s dislike for eating human brains, and his ability to feel intense emotions through doing so, highlights the notion of a sympathetic zombie – a figure is not only the living dead but retains some form, or traits, of humanity.
A Familiar World: Neoliberal Ideas
R tells readers that the zombies congregate in an airport on the outskirts of the city; they have their own place of worship where they wave their arms towards the sky; they attempt to sexually engage with one another by bumping their bodies together; their are marriages between male and female zombies; and those marries zombies and parentless zombie children (who attend the school for zombies), are unified together in order to form zombie families. The fact that Marion is depicted a world that is so familiar, and is reminiscent of the world in which the readers live, is further blurring the lines between the living and the dead. In this sense, Marion highlights the possibility of this world – if the zombies represent the other, such as the terrorists or the monsters that society fears, one day it could be possible for them to co-exist with the rest of society, despite being so different and monstrous.
However, as Cocarla notes, the zombies undertake these activities without actually knowing why they are doing so, highlighting neoliberal ideals. She argues that ‘the relevance of these activities to neoliberalism cannot be overlooked. Subscribing to social norms without question and ‘going through the motions’… allows for the understanding that ‘this is simply the way things are’ to go unquestioned – a key tenet of neoliberalism.’
R and Julie: Necrophilia and Neoliberalism
Cocarla further goes on to examine the relationship between R and Julie throughout the novel. She states that ‘while there are many amusing similarities between the story of R and Julie with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet… this tale is not so much about incompatible love as it is about shaping one’s love to fit a compatible mould, to change one’s self enough that they are an acceptable love match.’ It is these abilities to change and evolve into something else, that are the defining features of the narrative. She also highlights the implied necrophilia, as she suggests that ‘the relationship between R and Julie is tinged with necrophilic possibility without ever being necrophilic; they do not even share a kiss.’
Though, she states that in young adult fiction, this is not unfamiliar territory – ‘intense yearning and longing for the monster is common, but many of these supernatural romance stories promote abstinence, and maybe this is in part to quell the necrophilic taboo.’ In a similar sense, other young adult fiction such as Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight, albeit depicting vampires, highlights a similar idea – though Bella wants to have sex with Edward, he persuades her not to, and instead the who wait until marriage to be intimate. Although, she states that ‘the reader is encouraged to ignore the necrophilic readings since R is changing, and to instead focus on his progress as he becomes more and more un-undead/ less and less monstrous through his subscription to normative values and ideals.’
She also links the relationship between R and Julie back to neoliberalism through his conversations with M on page 58, where R expresses how he is changing because of his feelings for Julie. In these conversations, R also highlights how that this change is not only because of their relationship but because he has an intense desire to change. Cocarla notes that: ‘this is key to neoliberal politic, where one must see the ability to obtain social and economic privileges as resting solely on one’s ability to change and adapt, to incorporate neoliberal ideals into one’s life, as opposed to seeing inequality as a precondition for the state and cultural ideals and realities.’ Moreover, ‘in the neoliberal view, if one does not achieve, it is simply because one has not tried hard enough.’
Conclusion
Ultimately, in popular culture zombies have taken on a more metaphorical and meaningful roles in their narratives, providing a ‘blank template’ onto which audiences can project their fears and anxieties about the world. While most zombie narratives result in one of two extremes – either in the total defeat of all the living dead, or in the slow eradication of humanity – Isaac Marion subverts these stereotypes, presenting the audience with a unique narrative that sees the unlikely relationship between a zombie and a human at the forefront of the story; and if zombies are representations of the real world, such as terrorists and other monsters that society fears, he suggests that perhaps a world in which humanity and the ‘other’ can co-exist, is entirely possible.
For Further Reading
Botting, F. (n.d.). Love Your Zombie: Horror, Ethics, Excess. Gothic in Contemporary Literature and Culture, pp.19-36.
Bourguignon, E. (1959). The Persistence of Folk Belief: Some Notes on Cannibalism and Zombis in Haiti. The Journal of American Folklore, 72 (283), pp.36-46
Brooks, K. (2014). The Importance of Neglected Intersections: Race and Gender in Contemporary Zombie Texts and Theories. African American Review, 47(4), pp. 461-175.
Cocarla, S. (2018). A Love Worth Un-Undying For. Zombies and Sexuality: Essays on Desire and the Living Dead, pp.52-71.
The Guardian. (2018). Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion – review. [online] Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/childrens-books-site/2013/apr/29/review-warm-bodies-isaac-marion
Mariani, M. (2018). The Tragic, Forgotten History of Zombies. [online] The Atlantic.
Marion, I. (2011). Warm Bodies. New York: Atria Books.
McAlister, E. (2012). Slaves, Cannibals, and Infected Hyper-Whites: The Race and Religion of Zombies. Anthropological Quarterly, 85(2), pp.457-486
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