Five Horror Stories About Spores, Lichens, and Fungi
by H.J. Dutton
What is it about the horror genre and fungi? Fungal blooms and infestations pop up throughout horror history–fungal horror is perhaps prolific enough to be considered its own subgenre. A foundational work from the early 19th century is Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher” (1839), in which fungus serves as a symbol of physical, familial, and psychological decay. Over the 19th century and beyond, the strange organism appeared in the horror fiction of dozens of authors, including H.G. Wells, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, H.P. Lovecraft, E.F. Benson, Clark Ashton-Smith, and perhaps most famously William Hope Hodgson with his fantastic story “The Voice in the Night” (1907).
But why? When examining horror fodder, I can easily come to conclusions about why many subjects have become mainstays: spiders, clowns, ghosts, parasites, eldritch abominations, and so on. They embody primal fears and/or deep-rooted cultural anxieties, making them prime antagonistic forces. But when I look at fungus, I can’t come to easy answers. Perhaps it’s because of what fungus and similar organisms symbolize. Fungi are, by nature, decomposers. They swarm whatever’s dead and rotten and return it to the soil. Thus, we have come to associate them closely with death in the same way we do vultures and ravens. Mold, similarly, is commonly linked with entropy and decay.
Secondly, fungi are weird. They digest food externally, their cell walls are composed of chitin, and they form complex underground networks that function like nervous systems. This blend of traits from other lifeforms makes them misfits among Earth’s organisms. Aliens. It’s no surprise, then, that they’ve featured so heavily in cosmic horror. More importantly, thousands of fungi are parasitic by nature, with numerous species parasitizing humans. This parasitism taps into our primal fears of bodily invasion and loss of control.
Fungi continue to spread their veins throughout the genre, with recent examples in works such as The Last of Us (2013, video game), Annihilation (2014, novel), The Girl with All the Gifts (2014, novel), Resident Evil VII (2017, video game), and the former three’s recent film/TV adaptations propelling the subject into the cultural spotlight. The following stories illustrate the concept’s unique history in horror.
“Come Into My Cellar” – Ray Bradbury (1962)
Bradbury was most prolific in the science fiction genre and therefore is most famous for his contributions to it, but his handful of ventures into horror are no less masterful. In this story, a family receives a Special Delivery package on their doorstep, its contents unknown. Things spiral from there.
“The Stains” – Robert Aickman (1980)
His upbringing in a dysfunctional household may be why the bulk of Aickman’s fiction deals with themes of psychological and domestic horror. This story follows that trend, but it’s distinct from his traditional style in that rather than portraying a psychological threat, this story sports one that’s very tangible. It’s a stint on his part into the realm of body horror, one likely to leave you deeply uncomfortable.
“Fruiting Bodies” – Brian Lumley (1988)
Though not as well-known today, Lumley is still a tremendously important author, renowned for his contributions to the Cthulhu Mythos and even more legendary contributions to body horror. His contribution to fungal horror, first featured in his collection of the same name, is among his finest work. In it, the gradual decay of a seaside community appears in the form of a fungal infestation. It’s a slow burn horror-tragedy with an atmosphere that will stay with you long after.
“Growing Things” – T.E.D. Klein (1999)
Klein’s only fault is that he doesn’t write more. His fantastic work, some of the best in cosmic horror, is tragically sparse and hard to come by to boot. Though his best known and most impactful works are his many novellas, most of which are collected in Dark Gods (1985), I think his shorter works are where he really shines. In one such short story, a couple is trying to rid their house of a pesky but seemingly harmless infestation of fungal growths. The latter description turns out to be profoundly untrue.
“Elegy For a Suicide” – Caitlin R. Kiernan (2013)
Kiernan is one of the giants of weird fiction, up there with names like China Mieville and Jeff VanderMeer. Her unique blend of cosmic horror with grounded science and traditions like Southern Gothic, further characterized by her mesmerizing prose style, has helped her stand out amongst her many peers. Originally a vertebrate paleontologist, Kiernan uses her knowledge to lend her fictional works a dense complexity reminiscent of Laird Barron’s layered cosmic threats. In this story, a lesbian couple stumbles upon a hole in the ground harboring a species of fungus reminiscent of the real-life cordyceps. Things go downhill quickly when one of the pair is infected.