The movie Joker and the show Haunting of Hill House both exist within a world other than realism, yet there are very real elements throughout. There are not many times when it is necessary to suspend disbelief when watching either, which is why they’re both haunting. What they do so effectively is show how the thread of tragedy, when woven into one’s early life, can weave into future tragedy. The tragedy can take many different forms. On one end of the spectrum is the monstrous, murderous, sociopathic Joker, his life carved out in large part by a brutally neglectful, severely mentally ill mother. On the other end, the less antisocial end, we see in Hill House early childhood afflictions leading to later suffering, be it in the form of addiction or suicide.
I consider both of these works of art sort of origin stories of suffering. They both challenge the viewer to contemplate how people evolve into who they are at any given time. When one sees the childhood abuse suffered by the Joker, coupled with his endless bullying, his murderous impulses become more explicable, human even. When in Hill House, one sees the actual demons inflict the minds of the children, the demons that Luke chases away with heroin is cast in a more sympathetic light. He’s not just a junkie, he is a human trying to avoid the pain from his horrific traumas.
Origin stories are important because they help to humanize. When it is most challenging, when we are confronted with those we wish to deem monstrous, or subhuman, that is when we most need to ponder the possibilities of what happened, of what environment gave rise to the abhorrent. The statistical link between future perpetrators and former victims of pedophilia is well documented. For me, it is much more difficult to imagine a pedophile as the scourge of society when imagining him as a victim of abuse. An apt quote, one that I found early in my mental health counseling education, is a French proverb, “To understand all is to forgive all.” Everyone is capable of being understood if curiosity guides and abides.
I feel as if I am capable of offering that charity of spirit, the nonjudgment, because of the life I have led and the charity I hope to receive from others. I am a good person who has committed shameful and regrettable acts. I could point you in the direction of my role models, my parent’s divorce, my sister’s addiction, a permissive mother, to highlight the fact that I don’t just call a girl a bitch for the hell of it. That I haven’t driven while deeper under the influence than I should have. These are lesser acts compared to what others have done. All people, perpetrators of all acts, deserve empathy and compassion.
A Mental Health Counselor's Musings 