Welcome back to Dissecting The Dark Descent, where we lovingly delve into the guts of David Hartwell’s seminal 1987 anthology story by story, and in the process, explore the underpinnings of a genre we all love. For a more in-depth introduction, here’s the intro post.
Charles L. Grant is best remembered for his work as an anthologist and author of short stories, creating his own fictional universe with Oxrun Station, a Connecticut town that acted as a suburb of New York and a nexus of supernatural phenomena, with influence so far-reaching that it can be seen in movies and even video games (most obviously Silent Hill). “If Damon Comes” is one of the more famous Oxrun stories, an eerie, cold tale about the disintegration of a family and the terrifying haunting that comes in its wake. While Hartwell places it in his “moral-allegorical” category, that placement does Grant a disservice. Rather than focus on some “moral calculus” or punishment of evil, the justice meted out in “If Damon Comes” is internal—the main character is punished more for his guilt and inability to process or confront his emotions, and his inevitable doom comes from how he punishes himself. It’s intimate, it’s psychological, and it’s a brilliant moral twist on a gothic tragedy.
Frank and Susan live with their son Damon in the small Connecticut town of Oxrun Station, where Frank buries himself in his work as a lawyer and Susan has a nightly job as a lounge singer that sees her only returning home to sleep. Damon is a peculiar child; his eight years have been marked by an unnerving number of pet deaths and two stillborn siblings; he prefers to spend all his time with Frank to the degree that he stalks his father all over town and suffers emotional distress when they’re separated. Frank, to his credit, loves Damon, and tries to provide a safe environment for his son, but that fragile home life shatters when Damon follows his father one night and sees him drunkenly kiss another woman at a party. This one moment, and Frank’s guilt over the act, sends the family spiraling out of control. As the family is pulled apart, Frank and Susan’s tug of war over Damon results in a tragic accident and the loss of their son—except that even after his demise, Frank sees Damon following him in the fog, growing ever closer. Dead or not, it appears Damon still wants to be with his father. Damon is still coming home.
The element that makes the outcome of “If Damon Comes” more tragic than justified is that Frank isn’t a monster and doesn’t deserve his eventual fate. He’s not a saint, obviously—over the course of the story he makes multiple chauvinistic remarks, he hits Susan, and the catalyst for his paranoid spiral is kissing another woman and then getting caught by his son. He’s also immediately shocked and horrified that he laid hands on Susan (although his remorse doesn’t undo the harm of his actions). As a father, he shows genuine affection and empathy for Damon to the point that the kid is devoted to him, and tortures himself with his own guilt over momentarily straying from his family while letting his son down. Despite his constant protestations that he’s an awful person, that he never really loved Damon or Susan or any of Damon’s pets, he’s also the one person in the story (including Damon) that shows any concern or care towards Damon. Even at the start of the story when we first encounter Frank, he’s out wandering Oxrun searching for Damon’s stray cat. The thing that comes for Frank at the end of the story might take Damon’s shape, but it’s a monster borne of Frank’s own guilt and torment, punishing him for his perceived sins. It’s an internal judgment, a self-inflicted castigation rather than an external one.
Franks sins and weaknesses are less important (and arguably less harmful) than how Frank reacts to his own bad behavior. Rather than apologize to Susan for hitting her, or talk to Damon about how he kissed another woman in front of him, or engage with his son about Damon’s continuous loss of pets and dependence on his father, Frank instead prefers to withdraw from conflict, flagellating himself with his own guilt rather than confronting his problems. He fears a loss of stability, but the way he projects his shame and guilt onto Damon creates a world where that’s the inevitable outcome. When Damon finally tells Frank that he told Susan about the other woman Frank kissed, he seems more apologetic and innocent than Frank’s projection of guilt predicted he would be. Frank is utterly terrified he’ll be punished but welcomes the idea that he deserves that punishment. He is selfish and cowardly in his guilt, ignoring the actual situation and instead forcing his internal world on the people and environment around him. Whatever force is in the fog, the ghostly Damon that stalks Frank as ardently as his son used to merely finalizes the punishment Frank’s already meted out to himself.
One question remains, though—in the grand scheme of the story, where is Damon? His mother isn’t interested in him, she’s only interested in ticking boxes and making sure he’s living out her definition of “normal.” His father, for all the love he shows, is doing what he does partly out of atonement for his perceived guilt. While it might be Frank’s guilt that torments him in the form of Damon’s presence, it’s the selfishness of both parents and their lack of interest in Damon as a human being that kills him. No one in “If Damon Comes” acknowledges the humanity of the other characters, and a boy whose only failing was his need to be loved dies because of it. Perhaps that’s another reason the spirit in the fog chose to torment Frank using Damon, because the power struggle between his parents destroyed him as sure as any walk through the cold.
Hartwell’s assessment of the story places it in his “moral-allegorical” stream, but the idea that Frank is judged for his sins by an external force (as Hartwell describes moral allegory) rings false. Frank, in his guilt and selfishness, has already judged himself—to borrow one of horror fans’ favorite phrases, the call is coming from inside the house. Damon’s ghost is merely meting out what Frank believes is the appropriate punishment for Damon’s death and his own moral failings. It’s tragic, it’s inevitable, and worst of all, the only person who wanted it to happen was Frank.
Now over to you: How did you first find Charles L. Grant? What’s a good collection to start getting into Oxrun Station? And, given the setting of this tale, can you think of other favorite stories about weird events unfolding in fog and darkness?
And please join us in two weeks as we dissect the final story in Part 1 of The Dark Descent with Manly Wade Wellman’s “Vandy, Vandy.”
