Recently, I’ve had the absolute pleasure of reading Portraits of the Eerie by Mathilde Musset, a poetry book that talks about the different monsters we encounter in our childhood. The dark yet playful illustrations, the gothic atmosphere of the words, the smooth, soothing rhymes; to be honest, it’s something I’d probably read to my nephew. It made me think of the other authors I enjoyed reading when I was little, like R.L. Stine, Joseph Delaney, and Kendare Blake. And when I think back to these times, I remember when I was too scared to turn off the lights in my room, or when I felt there was someone hiding in the dark, watching me. These authors gave me the dark stimulus I needed to spark my imagination.

Admittedly, people judged me for it. Whenever my dad saw me with a horror book in hand, he could only shake his head, and tell me that I was attracting something incredibly dark into my life. And I admit, for a while I was a bit taken by that darkness. After all, real life wasn’t all that fun. No, it was the darkness that welcomed me. Of course, I was around eight or nine at the time, and whenever I read these books, I would churn out some disturbing stuff of my own. 

So how exactly does horror fit into children’s literature? How do we reconcile every bloody tragedy, every morbid nightmare, every shadow from the corners of our minds with the carefree innocence of youth? Children are, after all, impressionable. We don’t know what would happen if we exposed them to the horror genre, right? 

Not really. 

The reason why horror is so popular is because it offers us an escape from our lives. It delves into our survival instincts, and forces us into the character’s shoes. Authors who specialize in children’s literature know this, and create terrifying tales that will slowly envelop the child in the macabre world of monsters, both human and nonhuman alike. This can manifest into innocent things like carnivals, clowns, dolls, and even a gentle lullaby. Even so, why are we, as horror fans, particularly taken with these stories? Why do we enjoy, even admire them, despite their simple concepts? 

It’s charming, that’s why. It adds an eerie sense of calm, covering up a nightmare with a sweet dream. In a way, it’s like having a last meal before being executed. Whenever some monster or serial killer comes into the fold, and a child is associated with it, we know we have to just run, any form of attachment be darned. But what’s more frustrating is the fact that a child, who has absolutely no idea of the horrors that await them, interacts with the monster. We have to watch their dreams get snuffed out, before finally having to face reality with hollow eyes. At the very least, with children’s literature it’s implied; we don’t necessarily have to sit through the pain. We could just pretend that everything’s all right.

Horror teaches us a lot of basic lessons. It shows us, especially children, how to survive. It reminds us not to trust anyone, and while they shouldn’t be completely heartless, they should watch out for themselves as well, and the monsters around them. 

Even if the monsters are cute little drawings in a poetry book.