[j. d. worthington]

Thanks; that clarifies things considerably. On Pet Sematary... I can see what you're saying, but I think (and this is going on a reading of the novel many years ago) there are elements of a lot of that with Gage... though in a limited sense. And, really, it wasn't Gage that was at issue here, but his father. Gage (being an innocent) was no longer there to be trapped by whatever came out of that Micmac burial ground; it's his father's torment in knowing that what he was doing was a complete violation of trust on all sides, yet driven to do it because he can't stand the loss of his son. He's already had the experience of knowing what the result would be (with Church), so he's forewarned... and does it anyway. Also, there may be a subtle hint with Jud that all isn't what it seems, when the (pseudo-)Gage has his confrontation with him, and what he says to him. This is one of the times, it seems to me, when King was playing things more subtly, and that particular layer opens up a whole different can of worms....

As for Frankenstein... remember that the title of the book is Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus. It wasn't truly about "horror", not once it got past the original impetus to "write a ghost story" that came out of that party at the Villa Diodati. Instead, the novel was -- as was the case with nearly all of Mary's work -- very concerned with social issues, the theme of the outcast (Victor and his creation are essentially twins, mirror images of each other, for example), and examining the duality of our nature. For example: there are hints in the novel -- carried out with great restraint and skill -- that the creature isn't quite as innocent as he often seems; that he may in fact be informed by an infernal spirit whose aim is the damnation of Frankenstein through his own (Victor's) actions. He therefore becomes a double symbol for both Victor's potential salvation or destruction, depending on how he interacts with his unnatural offspring. And so on. So I'm afraid I have to disagree about time being spent, etc., as very little in that book is extraneous, unless one is looking for the very straightforward tale of the creation of a monster... which is only the veriest germ of this surprisingly complex and well-woven tale. (I say surprising, as it was her first book, written before she was 18.) It's a much, much subtler and more layered book than that.

Psychological horror? Richard Matheson is a good bet. (And there's a man who does believe in crossing the lines; he puts his characters through sheer unmitigated hell, whether it be Robert Neville in I Am Legend, Scott Carey in The Shrinking Man, or just about everyone in Hell House.) Thomas Ligotti is someone who does a very good job of blurring the lines and making the everyday into a nightmare by undermining one's sense of reality and presenting the reader with the firm conviction that (in Mephistopheles' words) "This is hell, nor am I out of it". He's also just a damn fine writer. Ramsey Campbell also does psychological horror very well, and repays close attention with many of his works.