One
of the most horrific concepts from horror and science fiction is that of the parasitic
alien, the creature that either uses the human body as part of its life cycle,
or worse, enslaves the human will to do its unearthly bidding. The image powerfully combines gruesomeness
with powerlessness, whether the hapless human becomes an incubating chamber or a
mindless automaton.
Alien (1979) is probably the most familiar
example of the former, with its novel larval delivery system of the skittering,
spider-like ‘face-hugger’. Slither (2006) has some fun with the
concept, featuring a male and a female of the species and an epidemic infection
of space parasites that zombify, mutate and coalesce their human victims into a
giant amorphous Lovecraftian creature. Movies like this seem to be loosely based on the
natural life cycles of some insect species or more primitive organisms.
The
other type of parasitic alien is not as acutely horrifying as the above,
because physical death is not imminent.
Yet it is every bit as disturbing and frightful. This is the species that is able to control
the human mind and will, typically by attaching a part of itself to the head or
neck area. Horror and science fiction
entertainments that feature this type of alien are tapping into social or
collective fears—the alien can be seen as a metaphor for conspiracy,
subversion, even the evil of sin.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) comes to mind, as does
Robert E Heinlein’s The Puppet Masters
(1951). Roger Corman played with this
theme in his wonderfully awful It
Conquered the World (1956). It is
the subject of numerous TV science fiction shows, among them Star Trek (in its various incarnations),
and The Outer Limits. (As a child, one of the most horrifying
episodes I saw of the original Outer
Limits was the episode “Corpus Earthling” that aired in the fall of 1963. Ancient rocks became slithery, tentacular aliens
at night, grabbing people’s faces and taking over their brains.) Where does the idea of parasitic species from
outer space come from?
Certainly
the notion was present in weird fiction by the early twentieth century, if not
before. One of the best examples must
surely be Clark Ashton Smith’s creepy The
Vaunts of Yoh-Vombis (1932), originally published in Weird Tales. The exotic place name in the title might lead
one to believe this a fantasy. The story
does contain elements of the ‘lost civilization’ genre, and much of the initial
action involves exploration of mysterious, colossal ruins.
But
the ruins are on Mars, not far from the principle commercial city. The narrator is a member of an archaeological
team on a routine mission to explore the ancient dead city of Yoh-Vombis. In other words, this is really a science
fiction adventure story, and will remind some readers of numerous Star Trek episodes—the ones that begin
with doomed landing parties. In the dark
depths beneath the ruins, the narrator discovers something terrible and
forgotten—and alive. It will change his
life despite a narrow escape, and the inconclusive ending suggests the
possibility of a fearful and troubled future for the rest of mankind. Smith’s The
Vaunts of Yoh-Vombis (1932) is recommended reading for fans of science
fiction and horror.
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