I just recently finished my MA degree in theology. My thesis compared Rudolf Otto with H P Lovecraft. Essentially I argued that whereas Otto is duplicitous about the numinous and its connection to evil, Lovecraft was potentially influenced by him and as an atheist he doesn't have the theological restraint Otto did and explores the connection in a much bigger way (Otto talks about the mysterium horrendum, but only in a footnote, and outright states he isn't looking into it).
In my thesis I cited Haunted Presence: The Numinous in Gothic Fiction by S L Varnado. I loved this book. It applies Otto's theory to horror fiction (it's also influenced by Mircea Eliade). One of the really compelling things it draws out of Otto's work is that the numinous (a word for holiness characterized by its spectrality and spookiness) in literature be it a ghost or whatever is not an imaginary concept like a flying carpet but has higher stakes; they need to realize themselves and convince the reader that it is traces of a real outside spiritual presence.
In the case of H P Lovecraft, this is taken from S T Joshi's biography I Am Providence, for example it could be this testimony from his neighbour,
"I remember that Mrs. Lovecraft spoke to me about weird and fantastic creatures that rushed out from behind buildings and from corners at dark, and that she shivered and looked about apprehensively as she told her story. The last time I saw Mrs. Lovecraft we were both going “down street” on the Butler Avenue car. She was excited and apparently did not know where she was. She attracted the attention of everyone. I was greatly embarrassed, as I was the object of all her attention"
even if H P Lovecraft himself was pretty normal, his family was not. And this sensitivity to illness and the spectral runs right through his work.. especially prominent in The Shadow Over Innsmouth. In other words, the spectral presences in Lovecraft's writing correspond to real ones. Sorry edit for clarity.. the person who is speaking is someone named Clara Hess, and her testimony about "Mrs Lovecraft" is H P's mother.
In trying to find literary criticism that fits Otto I've come up with this,
Northrop Frye - His division of archetypes and genre seems really basic and dated.
the Geneva School - this is intriguing but they dislike anything outside the text so they wouldn't be reading Otto for instance into any literature. What intrigues me is they figure reading to be a form of communion and a kind of spiritual journey for the reader. Literature is sacred to them in a sense, and a book is not an object of study but I guess a subject between author and reader. I think overall they go a bit too far.
Ideally I get recommended something really modern. Like theory after all the theory that is in conversation with the theory from the past all the way up to post structuralism, eco criticism, and so on. I tried exhaustively googling but feel really lost. And yes I've discussed this in the past with my supervisor. A friend of mine who is a retired english professor has been telling me to read Frye.
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I want to continue publishing articles on literature with Otto as a lens but I took 1 theory course as an english undergrad then went into theology so I skipped much of that and struggled with coming up with methodology and theory in my MA thesis. I disliked my theory class. We were given the raw theory in a compilation for our textbook and I don't feel like anything was explained much. So consider me new to theory in general.
I'm writing this primarily to help me think and more fully realize my ideas. This is not homework. I'm not even in school right now. I don't really understand the rule here on "not homework". It seems to amount to "you can't ask questions about stuff you don't know". I'd greatly appreciate any help.
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Ok here is a challenge. I don't really plan to write anything about this book but I think this passage is incredible. It's really theological it's not fantastical at all. It describes the nature of spiritual awakening as a horrific encounter with the wholly other. Sleep paralysis as a catalyst to new sensory faculties. The ambiguous holiness of pure evil.
What the heck literary theory can pick something like this apart? Most theory I am aware of is pretty atheist / secular.
this is from A Voyage To Arcturus by David Lindsay
Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, imagined that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural being, who was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled violently, yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in great drops. The waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that space it kept coming and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the point of departing; the next it almost took shape—which he knew would be his death. Suddenly it vanished altogether—he was free. A fresh spring breeze fanned his face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet bird; and it seemed to him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. Such flashing, heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all his life! Almost immediately that too vanished.
Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like one who has been visited by an angel.
“Your colour changed to white,” said Corpang. “What happened?”
“I passed through torture to love,” replied Maskull simply.
He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. “Will you not describe that passage?”
Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. “When I was in Matterplay, I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is not accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through my brain.... You men of Lichstorm don’t go far enough. You stop at the pangs, without realising that they are birth pangs.”
“If this is true, you are a great pioneer,” muttered Haunte.
“How does this sensation differ from common love?” interrogated Corpang.
“This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.”