Lovecraft Country: Is There a Place for Black Americans in Horror?
I recently finished Lovecraft Country, HBO’s adaptation of Matt Ruff’s 2016 article of the same name. There was magic, mythical creatures, and all the racial violence of a post-Korean war, Jim Crow Chicago. The story follows Korea vet and sci-fi aficionado Atticus “Tic” Freeman (played immaculately by Jonathan Majors) and his family as they uncover Tic’s relation to Titus Braithwaite, a slave-owning magician who impregnated his slave, Hannah. Through Hannah, Tic’s descendants earn the ability to wield magic, and Tic must hone these skills in the hopes of restoring balance to the world. That all sounds magical and fantastic, but at its core the story is a horror drama, situated in the mythology of H.P. Lovecraft, well-known for his horror fiction- and for being openly racist. Viewing a Black family in the 1950’s from the Lovecraftian lens is perfect to beg the question: can Black Americans belong in the horror genre? And if so, where? How?
Is there really anything scarier than being black in America? With the very real threats of police brutality, institutional racism, and day-to-day microaggressions, searching for a ghost in a haunted house is almost comical compared to the dangers Black Americans face. Not to mention, ghosts take on a different meaning when they’re black. A Black ghost from the 1800s likely carries the traumas of slavery, a la Toni Morrison’s Beloved, and a ghost from the 1900s most likely carries the traumas of racial segregation. These ghosts aren’t here to be nondescript spooky plot devices, but rather point to America’s sordid past, and the hold it has on the present. Even if a white ghost confronts a Black character, how are they supposed to act? Friendly? Accepting? Is the audience supposed to suspend their disbelief, or is it the writer’s duty to subject the Black characters- and the audience- to the racism, or the ignorance, at the very least, that would have come from a phantom of this time period. In this sense, there is no normal ghost to a Black American. The ghosts we see in Lovecraft Country are all tied to racism, be it Titus Braithwaite, the slave owner, or Hannah’s descendants, who are only connected to her through the magic she learned because of Titus, and used to protect herself and her family. These Black ghosts are ancestors, who serve as a reminder to the collective Black trauma and slavery and its fallout nearly two centuries later.
Ghosts aren’t the only supernatural horror element in Lovecraft Country. The vicious shoggoth creatures, taken straight from Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos, are agents of white people, and Christina’s lapdogs for the majority of the season. Even monsters side with white people, showing both their power and advantage. The shoggoths appear to be the embodiment of white viciousness and bloodlust, only steered away by light, (yes, physical, but we can think metaphorically too). It isn’t until Titus uses magic to gain his own shoggoth, which is symbolically black, and a protector rather than a predator, that we get the sense that it might be possible for Blacks to gain some leverage in this world
In the horror genre, white characters are a blank canvas- they don’t grapple with the dangers of merely existing, so it makes it easier to push unrealistically horrifying circumstances on them. Black people must move cautiously by nature of their very existence. When facing a ghost, a monster, or some demon in the attic- those things pale in comparison to being alien in your own country, and constant prey to the white man? When Black characters do face these embodiments of horror as we know it, they represent the bigger affliction to Black Americans- racism.
As is evident in Lovecraft Country, Blacks in the horror genre are constantly confronted with the leftovers of their collective past. An episode highlights the lynching of 14-year-old Emmett Till in 1955. A time-travel episode focuses on the Tulsa Race Massacre in 1921.Though the characters move freely through time, these formative events in Black American history anchor them and serve as a constant reminder that even in a world where shoggoths and other monsters exist, the true monster is oppression and its lasting effects.
Though Lovecraft Country argues Black Americans face unique, realistic horrors, it steers clear of the “all whites are blatantly racist” trope relied on by many shows set in its time period. Prime example is Christina Braithwaite, a blonde-haired, blue eyed descendant of Titus- and distant cousin to Tic- who is so focused on achieving immortality, all others in her way become collateral damage. She engages in a relationship with Ruby, a Black woman (and puts her in a comatose state for double-crossing her), and ultimately sacrifices Tic in an attempt to reach her goal. This contrasts with her introduction, in which she saves Tic and company from a mod of white men with guns. A character who initially seems like an ally turns out to be apathetic and opportunistic, only valuing Black people as far as they are valuable to her. The way Christina disposes of Black bodies to reach her goal contributes to the horror factor Black Americans face. Christina’s is reminiscent of white people who claim to have no malintent toward Black people but readily appropriate their culture, and accomplishments, and have no qualms over throwing them to the wolves to meet their ends.
Ultimately, Christina meets her demise in the season finale. She is choked to death by Dee, Tic’s cousin (or sister?) after stupidly begging for her help, solidifying both her lack of remorse for sacrificing Tic and her view that Black people are meant only to help her. Tic’s family manages to strip magic away from all white people forever. This hints to at least a beginning of restoring the racial power imbalance in the United States. Whether that will actually happen- fictionally, of course- stands to be seen. This final act brings Lovecraft Country’s thesis full circle (which is the name of the final episode) and proves that despite blood sacrifices, magic, and the Cthulhu mythos, the real horror Black Americans face is racism, and no amount of fictional entities can take away from that.
