Nosferatu, Technology, and the Loss of the Ghost Story

Beware: In this article there be *mild* spoilers… as well as content of a generally spooky nature. You have been warned.

"We believe ourselves enlightened when really we are mesmerized by the gaseous light of science." - Prof Von Franz in Nosferatu

When I was a child, there was a place at the end of our street we simply called “The Woods”.

The Woods were a dark place. A place full of the Unknown. A mystery. Coming out of the Satanic Panic of the 1980s and early 1990s, it was a place where Satanists met for clandestine rituals of unspeakable evil. It was a place where ghosts and demons roamed at night. (Of course, one would NEVER go there once the sun set — let alone alone.)

As an adult looking back on it now, “The Woods” were — economically — simply a place within suburbia wherein the expansion of post-war development was halted an a hundred acres or so of empty land were left standing to grow over. The area already cleared at one point for more housing development, yet was left to grow over in a cluster of tangled trees and weeds next to a creek, the train tracks, and remnants of coal mining from the 1920s and 30s. It was probably more of an issue of mine subsidence more than anything. And now, the place is desolate — but not desolate as it once was. It is desolate of children. For all of our fears and terrifying imaginations — we never saw anybody in The Woods but… ourselves. It was our playground. Outside of the confines of suburbia, we built bike jumps there. We climbed trees. We searched for treasure. We built rope swings and roasted marshmallows and (when we were older) paintballed in The Woods.

But now, the land is totally disenchanted. Most of the trees — including a 100+ year old oak tree we called the Devil Tree — have been stripped. In its place stands a massive tank with the soul purpose of containing sewage over-flow in the event of flooding. And a service road had been built alongside the train tracks which now run regularly (and noisily) to service the new fracking plant built some miles away.

The Woods had been stripped down to its most utilitarian usefulness.

The ghosts are gone. The ‘Satanists’ are gone. The children are gone. It is now a neglected plot of land with no imagination. No value — save for its throw-away and economic scrapping for parts.

The Woods came to my mind recently while walking around the misty midnight roads of my local eastern Pennsylvania village of Alburtis. The land here is old. Full of stories of ancient farms, Native American villages, old cemeteries, etc. It struck me as a perfect setting for a Ghost Story. It is the perfect scene for a Haunting. Like The Woods of my childhood, it has an air of the Ancient. Of Mystery. Gnarled trees, misty fields, old tombstones, and haunted houses.

And yet… It’s not that anymore. We have lost this sense of the “Other World”. Why? And what does this have to do with the recent remake of Nosferatu? I will explain…

Robert Eggers’ recent remake of Nosferatu is a masterpiece in many ways… and an ‘okay’ film in others. What it excels in, however — other than the stunning visuals of the film — is the recollection of true Victorian horror with all of its themes of haunted castles, atmospheric dread, family curses, and — most importantly — the interplay between modern rationalism vs. ancient mystery and ‘superstition’. Even the titular character, speaking as the dreadful Count Orlok, states that he wished to leave his remote castle in the mountains of Transylvania — a land full of village ‘superstition’ — and enter the world of 19th century German ‘Enlightenment’ and rationalism. (What he means by this, is another matter.)

The film is set in a world that is pre-Freud and pre-Jung. A world grappling with Faith and Reason in the face of technological and scientific advancement coupled with secularism, psychology and commerce.

When the young Ellen in the film begins to experience things that are beyond anybody’s understanding, the response is — rationally — to conclude her to be deluded. She was, as it were, experiencing fits of hysteria. Irrational emotions. Illogical states. The response is to tie her down, physically, to a bed and administer to her calming drugs. She is, after all, out of her mind and raving. All that needs to be done is to sedate her and tend to her sense of reason in order that she ‘snap out of it’, so to speak, and come to her senses once again.

Even with her care under a local doctor, however, her symptoms become worse. It is not until the ostracized scientist with a deep knowledge of alchemy and of the occult — Albin Eberhart Von Franz — is brought in to assess the situation that the truth of the matter is brought to light.

Dr. Von Franz, as the story goes, was once a great and sought-after professor in Switzerland — but after he began to speak seriously about ‘irrational’ matters like alchemy, Hermeticism, and the occult (and ‘occult’ meaning, merely, ‘hidden’ knowledge), he was sidelined and relegated as a ‘kook’ in the age of Rationalism and Enlightenment.

Dr. Von Franz, upon examining Ellen, at once gave the directive that she not be tied down or given any sedatives. “She must be fully aware” — and fully awake — he says. In experiencing something that Science and Reason could not understand, the response was to sedate and constrain the problem. But to Von Franz, the situation was much more real. Much deeper. These were not mere fits of anxiety or of hysteria. There were real spiritual forces at play here.

His understanding, likewise, mirrors the understanding of the Romanian villagers in the film. They were simple people, yet they knew full well the real Evil that Count Orlok not only represented, but manifested. Warning the young Thomas Hutter of the evil that he faced, they failed to persuade him in his quest for money and security. And when Hutter returned from Orlok’s castle in a terrible state, it was a convent of Romanian Orthodox nuns who nursed him back to health and who exercised him of the evil shadow he was under, warning him of his grave spiritual danger.

All the while, Count Orlok was set on entering the Rational Germany. He enters on a ship carrying rats, which were to blame for the plague which ravished the city where he entered. Yet for the viewer of the film and for those who were ‘in the know’ in the film… the plague was not simply a scientifically understood virus, but a spiritual affliction of pure evil. This there strongly echoes the attitudes of Europe during the Black Death in the 14th century, in which roughly half of Europe’s population died.

In the new Nosferatu film, it was not the ‘superstition’ that ultimately drove people to madness, however. Rather, it was the opposite. Those with a ‘rational’ and ‘scientific’ understanding of the world were driven to madness by what they could not understand. The deeper questions of ‘something beyond’ were even explicitly brought up by Ellen within the context of her bourgeois, Victorian world in which to be a woman meant to be quiet and submissive. It was no place for a woman at that time for deeper questions or to ‘rock the boat’.

But once the ‘hidden’ knowledge of Von Franz was brought into play (a knowledge shared, incidentally, by the Romanian Orthodox villagers), and once Ellen was able to confront these ‘irrational’ spiritual truths head-on without the scientific and rational constraints of ropes and sedatives… once these elements came into the story from the sidelines of Enlightenment 19th century Germany was the story resolved. The monster killed. The village saved. The dragon slayed. And the story ends with the sun rising and dispelling the darkness once and for all.

Okay… fine. But what does this have to do with Ghost Stories?

There are many themes to discuss in the film Nosferatu. And perhaps not just this film, in particular, but the original 1922 film — and the Dracula and vampire/Gothic horror genre in general. But one theme that stands out — and we see this clearly in Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein — is the struggle between the scientific/Enlightenment worldview of rationalism and the ‘Romantic’ and traditional worldview populated by ghosts, spirits, gods, devils, angels, and demons.

In the recent Nosferatu film, the problem of ‘irrationalism’ was ‘solved’ by tying down the subject with ropes and sedating them with ether. This would, supposedly, ‘banish’ the womanly irrationality and hysteria of the subject and bring her back to her scientifically sound wits. But alas… the result was that the ‘rationalists’ were driven mad and the woman — Ellen — was able to, finally, fully grasp the spiritual reality of her situation to a resolve.

This film — as horribly beautiful yet imperfect as it is — has brought to mind some thoughts which I had been tossing about in my head for some time.

Right now — as I am talking into my phone some thoughts for this article — I am walking around my rural eastern Pennsylvanian home, as I usually do. But tonight the land around is shrouded in a mist and fog that gives the usual landscape an aura of mystery and spookiness which transforms the familiar into something other-worldly.

I often think about our perception of place when I walk through these fields and farms after dark. At one time — like The Woods of my childhood — these places would be populated with ghosts and ghouls and the un-dead memories of the past. Of ancestors and Indians and ancient specters of memories that still haunt us.

And yet… now they don’t. Often, when I am walking, I am listening to music. Or podcasts. Or distracted by messages on my phone. Memes. Calls. Emails. Telegram updates. My mind — like so many of us — is not in this present reality. It is not focused on the immediate place where we are. It is elsewhere. It is in the only real reality that we know now — the reality of the virtual. And we are never alone. We always have our phones with us. We are always connected to a constant stream of the Internet reality. There is no ‘haunted space’ anymore. There is only us… haunted by our phones. By the virtual. For after all, what is an old house anything more than a vacant property for sale? What is a misty field other than something that can be viewed on Google Earth? And what is our attention other than something that is mediated through the constantly-connected virtual reality of our phone?

Like The Woods of my childhood, everything mysterious, spooky, and mystical is swept away by rational understanding, utilitarian usefulness, banal information, and a constant connection to the endless stream of images and sensations that are available to steal our attention 24/7.

We don’t have the space or time to contemplate the unsettling solitude of the misty woods… when we are checking social media or uploading photos or responding to messages or listening to a podcast or watching Mr. Beast and Vine collections.

It is as if we are living in the midst of Times Square all the time. In Times Square, there are no gods and no ghosts — unless they are contrived there for the sole spectral entertainment of the consumer. Otherwise, they are totally out of place.

This is why I opened this piece with a clip by Bo Burnham. He is exactly correct. In the past, our understanding of space and expansion was much different. We lived in a world that was real. We lived in a space with history. With memory. With meaning. We saw the world through the lens of the spiritual — even if this ‘spiritual’ understanding was the residual mist of ghosts and ghouls while the churches continued to empty and true Faith abandoned.

Now, technology, the Internet — and the companies who run them — colonize our inner space. Our thoughts are replaced by Twitter feeds. Our memories are Instagram. Our relationships are virtual. And our places are online. And the old, misty fields and ancient houses stand as empty as ever while most of the world — whether at home or walking through the darkness — are constantly online.

And put most bluntly — if our statistics are correct — we understand that where once young men were out on Saturday nights causing ruckus in the night… they are more likely on their phones now in the darkness of their solitary rooms watching TikTok and pornography.

Our spiritual and interior spaces are totally colonized by this new technology. In the film, Nosferatu, an ‘irrational’ Ellen was restrained by ropes and sedatives. Now, our technology is our straightjacket and the Internet is our sedative and ether to take our minds off of the ‘other world’ and into the constant ‘rational’ and digital eternal Now.

This doesn’t mean that Enchantment is no longer real. It doesn’t mean that houses are no longer haunted. It doesn’t mean that ghosts no longer rise from their graves at night, nor do monsters and specters no longer walk the land in the misty midnight… but rather, we no longer have the capacity to see them. Are minds are constantly in the Times Square in our pockets.

The Ghost Story no longer enchants us. Because we ourselves are no longer Enchanted.

And yet…

We are still human. The mystery of the ‘unknown’ still haunts and fascinates us — albeit in another way. Our attention is turned online to stories of mysterious drones in the sky which drum up all sorts of speculation. Modern technology is the new Ghost Story. These things are filmed and monitored 24/7 and posted online… yet they are still unexplained, and they haunt us.

Most recently, Nosferatu’s plague might call to mind our Covid-19 era, where people placed in front of their homes like sacrificial blood securing their door fronts in Exodus signs that stated “We Believe in Science” while medical officials and doctors consoled the public like new Priests of a post-religious era. All the while the churches remained locked and bolted and the priests of Christ were instructed to isolate and not administer Sacraments.

Stories of the plague in China causing people to drop dead in the streets and rumors of mass graves in uninhabited islands off of Manhattan haunted us. An Evil had come over the land, and the State had become the Church — the Scientists the new priests — the vaccine, the Sacrament. The only thing to save us.

Now… I don’t wish to delve into politics here. Only to say that the theme we see in Nosferatu was playing out in real time. Scientific rationalism vs. the Enchanted worldview of Faith and the Unseen.

Much of the near religious hyper-politization of all of life and the recent New Jersey drone scare calls to mind Oswald Spengler’s concept of the ‘Second Religiosity’. Spengler believed that “Second Religiosity” is a rehashing of earlier religious beliefs which comes at the dying of a civilization, but as a cultural stance rather than a sincere belief. It manifests in a type of superstition that is outside of the bounds of traditional Authority — be it the Church, the scientific community, government, academia, etc. In our online age, these take the form of near religious fervor for current politics, contemporary events, conspiracy theories all across the political spectrum, and so on.

So, as the sense of place, of memory, and of history is erased, the Specter takes an online form. Videos of drones in New Jersey. Zombie news reports about Covid. Is it a black or blue dress? Has Joe Biden been replaced with a look-alike? Are Nazis roaming our streets? Is Sharia Law threatening to cover our land like a black shroud? And remember the Bath Salts cannibals of ten years ago or so?

The Kyle Rittenhouses and Luigi Mangiones of our time are the new saints slaying the dragons of our fears. Their iconography replaces those of St. George in our consciousness.

Our fears of the unknown have taken on the character of an ever-flowing stream of news items, TikTok videos, Instagram posts, social media rants… punctuated by advertisements, spam images, cat videos, and porn.

Even our poor Nosferatu cannot be talked about without a reference to SpongeBob, it seems. (This reference has come up in almost every review of the new Nosferatu film that I’ve seen. And full disclosure… I like SpongeBob.)

As you can tell by now, this is not a review of Nosferatu. I only wish to explore one of the themes of the film which seems relevant to us now.

Our ‘rationality’ limits us from the total view of life in this world. Of its possibilities. Of its stories and its secrets. This doesn’t mean that we should be ‘irrational’ like Spengler’s ‘Second Religiosity’ would describe. A video clip recently of a woman somewhere in America zooming her phone camera into what is clearly the planet Venus and talking to “the orb” about Jesus is a good example of this ‘Second Religiosity’ irrationality. This is a ‘spirituality’ that is reactionary — tinged with doubt and born of fear and fueled by the absolute primacy of subjectivity and a lack of understanding.

In the Victorian and Edwardian Era, this ‘Second Religiosity’ took the form of Spiritualism and all manner of the occult — out of which Bram Stoker’s Dracula was born.

There is always a draw in our human nature to a deeper knowledge and to the Unknown that pure Rationalism can’t satisfy and which Scientism can’t understand.

But in our time, as Bo Burnham explained in the above clip, our inner space has been colonized. Technology and media have a total grip on our time, our space, our thoughts, our actions, our memories, our relationships, and our imaginations.

A film like Nosferatu, with all of its ambient spookiness, Gothic horror, folk religiosity, and depictions of Pure, Black, Unadulterated Evil appeals to us as a type of release valve. With all of its stark violence, it allows us to enter into that Enchanted world of Spiritual Realities. Unencumbered by technology or internet or phones. And it serves as a warning. No matter how distracted we are by ‘rational’ Civilization — the Unseen World is still very real.

And the villagers know better.

In the 2024 remake of Nosferatu, the young traveler Thomas Hutter is both laughed at and gravely counseled by the simple Romanian villagers for his naive hubris about the nature of the world in which he lives. He is a rational man who doesn’t believe in superstition and fables. But his experiences would soon convince him otherwise.

I don’t wish to say outright that there is a ‘moral of the story’ to the new Nosferatu film. And quite frankly, due to the extreme graphic sexuality in the film, I don’t even encourage people to go and see it.

However, having seen it, there is much to think about and take away. And much that will speak to our current situation on the cusp of 2025 — just as in a similar way, the original 1922 Nosferatu film spoke to deep-seated fears and concerns of a post-war Germany.

That said, a scene that stuck in my mind in the film was the Dr. Von Franz — with full knowledge of the Unseen and of Hidden Knowledge — authoritatively demanding that Ellen be released from the bonds of her ropes and her sedative administration ceased in order that she be fully conscious and that she face reality head-on. Only then will her situation be resolved.

In a way, we are Ellen in this scene — trapped in our desires and by Appetite (which Nosferatu calls himself in the film as his true name), and bound and sedated by the new priests of capital and digital technology.

We haunt ourselves in the solitary darkness of our rooms in front of the ubiquitous cold glow of a screen.

We are the ghosts of a digital world haunting spaces which were once Real. The ghosts of the Old World have nobody left to haunt.

If you like this content, please consider a small donation via PayPal or Venmo. I am currently studying Islam and the Arabic language full-time, and any donation — however small! — will greatly help me to continue my studies, my work, and my sustenance. Please feel free to reach me at saidheagy@gmail.com.

Thank you, and may God reward you! Glory to God for all things!

UPDATE: I find it ironic that the very fog I was walking in and which I spoke about in the above article has ITSELF become part of the current Internet conspiracy/urban legend mill. Incredible.