Is Horror an Emotion?
Webster’s Dictionary defines horror as “painful and intense fear, dread, or dismay.” Basically, really bad fear.
A common definition of the horror genre is “the genre that evokes or aims to evoke fear.” I’ve criticized this definition before, but there’s no denying that fear is central to the horror genre experience.
But is it just fear, or can horror be its own discrete emotion?
A new paper published in Emotion Review by David C. Witherington and Naila V. deCruz-Dixon asked this very question.
What is Horror?
Etymology
The authors begin with the etymology of the word:
“Specifically, the word “horror” stems from the Latin verb horrēre as well as from the Old French orrour, both of which mean “to bristle” as in hairs stiffening on the body. Horrēre also means “to shudder, or shiver,” as with cold… the Latin horrē re mirrors the Greek phrisso in both the sense of bristling and of shuddering or shivering. In their denotation, both words concern a Medusa-like ‘state of paralysis...’”
The etymology situates horror within the space of fear, though with an element of paralysis.
Facial Expression
Prototypical facial expressions of horror also give it a distinct flavor of fear. According to the classic book Unmasking the Face by Paul Ekman and Wallace Friesen, facial expressions of horror differ from fear in that the eyebrows are unraised. From Ekman and Friesen:
“John's expression in 19B shows more of a frozen, horrified fear. Interestingly, the intensity of this expression of fear is not reduced by the lack of involvement of the brow (it is a neutral brow). Instead, the absence of brow involvement causes the expression to appear immobilized or frozen.”
This hint of paralysis and helplessness is a key difference for horror. The authors of the new paper go on to say,
“whereas fear and disgust faces function to avoid or reject threats to one’s well-being, the face of horror promotes further engagement as well as immobility and helplessness in the face of its object, establishing a compulsory passivity of sorts.”
To me, this sounds a bit like awe, where the purpose is (I think) to gather a large amount to information in an unimpeded way. Both horror and awe seem to occur in response to experiencing some sort of schema incongruence. Whereas awe relates more to spiritual vastness, horror seems to result from extremity
Possible Function
Emotion scientist Dacher Keltner has shown that a threat-based variant of awe exists. It has distinct physiological signatures from positive-awe, elevating sympathetic nervous system activity as opposed to parasympathetic activity. Threat-based variants of awe also appear to induce powerlessness. While he doesn’t call this threat-based variant of awe horror, its description lines up well with what this new paper suggests horror is.
Continuing the discussion on immobility and helplessness, Witherington and deCruz-Dixon suggest that horror might be a quantitative variant of fear that reflect the “freeze” part of the flight/fight/freeze defense cascade. Freezing often occurs early in the defense cascade, once a threat is first spotted. Freezing helps the animal to stop other activities and gather information about the threat in order to make a determination about the best course of action (fight/flight).
The Importance of Helplessness
I’m not sure that horror is a distinct emotion in the way that evolutionary scientists think about emotions. It is probably just a quantitative variant of fear or a mixed emotion experience of fear and awe. But something else useful came out of this new paper aside from an in-depth discussion of horror as an emotion.
I’ve argued previously that the horror genre is best defined as the genre in which a much more formidable antagonist aims to kill a less formidable protagonist. By empathizing with the protagonist, the viewer (or reader or listener or player) is faced with a threat far more formidable than themselves. As a genre, horror amplifies the antagonist’s formidability through particular features. From my discussion on the definition of horror:
“The villain’s attributes—size, weaponry, supernatural power—heighten our perception of the threat. This amplification creates the uniquely horrifying experience of feeling outmatched, where the protagonist’s chances of survival seem slim… It’s not just that the villain is scary; it’s that they represent an insurmountable power that leaves the protagonist (and the audience) feeling completely overwhelmed. This is the horror experience at its core: not just fear, but the deep, unsettling dread of facing a power that could annihilate you.” (emphasis added)
In other words, inducing vicarious feelings of helplessness is key to how horror as a genre works. This seems to line up with Witherington and deCruz-Dixon’s analysis of horror as being centered around helplessness and immobility. So, whether or not horror is its own emotion is still up for debate. But the physiology and behavioral expression of “horror” does seem to be distinct from typical fear by centering around a fear of something far greater or more powerful than yourself.