Glamoured: A Modern Fairy Tale

3. E Says Hello

"The greatest of all human fears is the unknown," Mr. De Angelo said, pacing in front of the room. "All horror stems from this fundamental fear, which is ultimately the fear of death—the great unknown."

Someone in the back of the room laughed, but Eleanor was doing her damnedest to pay attention. This was the one class she had a prayer of getting an A in, which would be the first decent grade in a while for her. Besides, she liked to read—something she couldn't say about some of her other classmates, many of whom were surreptitiously texting or playing on their phones.

"This section of the class is about how modern authors have interpreted our most primal fears into the modern monsters we know and love-to-hate," De Angelo said, his one eye focused on them while his lazy eye stared down at the floor. Eleanor did her best to meet his gaze, signaling that she was one of maybe five students still paying attention.

"Let's see...who did the reading? What do zombies symbolize?"

Eleanor said, "Rampant consumerism. They'll just use and use and use, but then there's another version of them that symbolizes our own fears of decay and disease."

"Miss Sable's getting full participation points," De Angelo said, giving her a small smile. "Anyone else? Bueller...Bueller?"

Eleanor stifled a giggle, sucked in a breath, and did her best Hermione Granger impression. "Werewolves symbolize uncontrolled rage and the fear of giving into primal instincts. Vampires are the ultimate fear of the other—they're foreign, they steal away your young children and induct them into cults, and drain your blood or energy."

De Angelo nodded and said, "That's right. All these creatures are based in our own deepest fears. For example, vampires have been re-imagined every generation, and their horror tailored to the specific fears of the time. It's no coincidence that, in Dracula, the Count was a foreigner who came to England to take away women's virtues. It's also not a coincidence that, around the time AIDS hit, Anne Rice re-imagined vampires as characters living queer lifestyles."

"Does Twilight symbolize our fear of glitter body paint?" a guy asked. The class giggled, and De Angelo chewed on his lower lip, doing his best not to grin.

"The evil vampires in Twilight represent a conservative Mormon's fear of dogmatic Catholicism," Eleanor blurted out, unable to help herself. She looked up at De Angelo and shrugged. It was true, she thought, and she didn't give a damn if De Angelo knew she'd read the series.

That, at least, quieted down the class, and Mr. De Angelo assigned them the work of reading two works of modern horror from the sheet and writing an essay about the unifying themes between the two works while contrasting the author's different viewpoints. Eleanor expected that assignment, even if she hadn't made up her mind whether to take the easy or hard way out. She could write essays on books she'd already read or challenge herself with something new. Her gut twisted. There was a time when she wouldn't have even had to make that choice, a time when doing extra work didn't frighten her.

"You're doing quite well," Mr. De Angelo said before Eleanor could walk out the door. She stepped aside, trying not to look guilty, and went back to talk to him.

"Thanks," she said. "I like horror."

"I can tell—you've really come alive during this section," he said, "and thank you for putting the discussion back on track."

"Ugh, thanks. It's not big deal," she said, giving him a small smile.

Mr. De Angelo cocked an eyebrow. "Eleanor, I see most of my class zoning out. It's nice to have someone engaged in the material."