Robert Bloch: Terror with a Velvet Pen

By Myra Shinkman

Valley News Sunday Magazine, June 22, 1980

Author Robert Bloch's face is deceptive. The man who has written some of the greatest horror and fantasy tales of this century has unremarkable features, held together by a series of deep, soft crevices. His face is the face of a reclusive professor. In fact, Bloch does shy away from any undue attention. But he is far from shy when he sits down to write.

One look at his eyes and, well, they are a -- pardon the pun -- dead giveaway. They sparkle and dance with unspoken devilment, blazing a path all their own. Indeed, his eyes jump with such an eerie rhythm that it's difficult to remember the stories he writes are just stories.

Fortunately for all concerned, Robert Bloch never acts out the twists and turns of the mind or the frailties that make people cringe when things go bump in the night. He only writes about them.

A prolific writer, Bloch has produces scores of novels, dozens of television and movie scripts, more than 500 articles and short stories and nearly 50 episodes for various radio serials. His works have appeared in over 250 anthologies.

His novels include, "Fear Today, Gone Tomorrow," "Strange Eons" and "Sneak Preview." he has written teleplays for shows such as "Star Trek," "Alfred Hitchcock Presents," "Thriller" and "Journey to the Unknown." His movies include "Torture Garden" and "The House that Dripped Blood." But he is probably best known for his book that became Alfred Hitchcock's spine-tingling thriller, "Psycho."

Robert Bloch was born in Chicago in 1917 and began his writing career in 1934 when he sold his first story to the periodical "Weird Tales." He credits H.P. Lovecraft, a pioneer writer in the fantasy/horror field, with that first success.

A fan letter that Bloch had written in 1932 to Lovecraft was the catalyst for their long association. In the letter, the would-be writer asked Lovecraft if there was any way to receive some of his earlier stories. Lovecraft wrote back to the young man, offering him his choice. A correspondence -- lasting until Lovecraft's death in 1937 -- sprung up, making Bloch a part of the "Lovecraft Circle."

"Lovecraft lived a reclusive existence in New England," Bloch recalls. "And he was an insomniac -- stayed up all night. He had little or no money, and correspondence was his consuming hobby, almost an obsession. He corresponded with literally scores of people. Writing letters that were, sometimes, dozens of pages long. And so, in due time, he developed a circle of people -- would-be writers -- who then blossomed out into professional work."

Bloch, of course, was one who blossomed almost immediately. In between sales of manuscripts, when things got a little slow, he worked as an advertising copywriter and ghostwrote political speeches for mayors and congressional candidates in Milwaukee.

Finally, in 1959, he scored his biggest success with the publication of "Psycho," still his most famous novel. And, with director Alfred Hitchcock's help, Bloch and his book basked in world notoriety.

The book's rise to fame began as soon as Hitchcock became obsessed with the story. The director took Bloch's "Psycho" and, over the studio's objections, proceeded to transform it into a classic suspense film. Only this time Hitchcock stuck closely to the book -- quite unlike the other films he had made that were based on books. The terrifying shower scene with Janet Leigh and Anthony Perkins in the movie is just as shattering, if not more so, in the book.

When asked if he minded being identified with just one work, Bloch pointed to a floor-to-ceiling shelf unit in his office that was crammed with books. "You see those books over there? They're either novels, collections of short stories or anthologies in which I had something. And I can take you into another room and show you the magazines. Those don't include the scripts, either. So you see the reasons why it's hard for me to identify with any one story."

While Bloch appears to be a little unhappy over the fact that most people associate him with "Psycho," he has grown accustomed to it. "I don't mind being identified (with it). I did for a number of years but I realized, gradually, that it's necessary to have a label of some sort."

Bloch is currently working on the sequel to "Psycho," in which the leading "crazy," Norman Bates (portrayed in the movie by Anthony Perkins), gets out of the mental institution. "You bet he's going to get out," Bloch grinned. "And when he does, everybody else has to look out!

"Incidentally, it's going to be reissued with the first `Psycho,' which is a nice idea. I can't give you the details or else somebody else will get to it before I do."

It wouldn't matter much. Even if someone else beats him to the finish, no one could match Bloch's creative abilities. What's more, Bloch is similar to Edgar Allen Poe in that he doesn't write stories that date themselves. Bloch has even collaborated with the long-deceased Poe by completing one of the writer's unfinished works titled "The Lighthouse."

"It was a wonderful collaboration," Bloch chuckled. "First of all, he didn't bother me while I was doing it, and secondly, he didn't ask for any of the money."

While Poe's stories have lasted through the year, Bloch is not so sure his own works will last as long. This cynicism is based on his theory that people will not know how to read 100 years from now.

"I would probably put 20 years as the optimum for people still learning to read. Those that have already acquired that facility will probably continue to read, unless that ability atrophies from disuse. But the others are reaching the point where they have to move their lips when they watch television.

"It (television) doesn't require the exercise of the imagination to that degree. It's simplified, it's homogenized and poured into the viewer. It's all predigested."

And if Bloch seems agitated about television, it gets worse when movies -- especially horror/fantasy movies -- are the subject of a discussion.

"Unfortunately, in films today, the emphasis is on `how' and nobody cares `why.' Just so long as enough of that ketchup is spurting out over the screen. That satisfies the average audience, but it doesn't satisfy me. For that matter, the average audience doesn't satisfy me, either. They are sadistic and they aren't willing to think.

"I like scary movies in the old-fashioned sense of the word. They were more imaginative and they required audience involvement in order to create shock. You had to identify with the characters. But today, they're called spatter films, and I don't like those at all. I don't think it takes any imagination to disembowel somebody on camera. And, for some reason or other, it doesn't particularly appeal to me. I see no reason for paying $5 to watch somebody's entrails popping out, when I can get the same thing for free by visiting any slaughterhouse or stockyard.

"What frightens me is not what I see up there, but what I hear from the audience. The moronic cackling and the imbecilic laughter of cretins, who I know are all too anxious, in many instances, to emulate what they're seeing on the screen."

While Bloch is certain that violence on the screen contributes to violence on the street, he doesn't think that is the main factor.

"I think it's the *attitude* towards violence that counts. In the time that I'm speaking of, when they had a very definite moral code, good was good and evil was evil. You had no anti- heroes. We knew the perpetrators of atrocities were either to be punished or to be pitied. But today, that's where it is, man. That's where the action is. That's how it comes down.

"And as a result, since so many writers, directors, producers, filmmakers refuse to take a moral position, the audience takes no moral position! And anybody gets in their way, they waste 'em, they snuff 'em, they blow 'em away. Nice kind euphemisms for gore and violence."

In his writing, Bloch prefers relying on psychological horror rather than physical violence. He would rather know "why" someone kills instead of "how" the victim is killed.

"If you've ever gone into a schoolroom and seen a little 10-year- old child that was `blown away' or `snuffed,' you wouldn't think that was exactly the term to describe his or her condition."

Bloch's attitudes toward violence seem to be by-products of his affinity for the past.

"I think this is true of anybody who gets beyond a certain age, unless he or she is intrinsically part of the turmoil of their own volition." After a pause, Bloch adds: "I'm sure that Helen Rubenstein was quite happy to be `with it' when she was 80, and of necessity, had to be. To me, many of the great experiences in life were enjoyed under conditions that were radically different from those you encounter today."

Bloch says he often finds himself longing for days gone by. Indeed, with his reserved, soft-spoken speech and impeccable manners, he gives the impression of being a Victorian gentleman. However, the author harbors no desire for that historical period.

"Oh, good Lord, no! With that rotten plumbing and no antibiotics!" he says, slightly aghast. Yet Bloch shows preference -- at least in his writings -- for that period's bloodiest murderer. It started with "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper."

"In 1943, I wrote this story -- it was just another story as far as I was concerned," says Bloch, leaning back in his chair. "But it so happened that 20th Century Fox was making a film called `The Lodger' about Jack the Ripper, starring the then quite popular character actor, Laird Cregar. And somehow they got wind of this thing, and they decided to do my story on radio with Laird Cregar playing the lead -- a sneaky way of identifying with his forthcoming role.

"They put it on the `Kate Smith Hour,' which was a very big, popular variety show at that time. And, as a result, this story was the first story of mine anthologized in the first anthology ever put out by Alfred Hitchcock, `Fireside Book of Suspense.' And somehow after that, they just kept reprinting this story and they kept doing new versions of it on radio. It appeared on `Molle Mystery Theater,' `Dimension X,' `X Minus One.'"

In addition to writing radio scripts, Bloch had his own radio series -- "Stay Tuned for Terror." He adapted "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper" once more for his show.

"Up to the time of `Psycho,' I was -- I guess -- known pretty much for having written `Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper,'" says Bloch. "And it's still being reprinted, read on radio in Israel and in Italy and in South Africa. I betcha it's had 40 different incarnations."

But Bloch's relationship with Jack the Ripper didn't end there.

"About 10 years ago, Harlan Ellison called," recalls Bloch. "He said, `I'm gonna get out a book of science-fiction material called `Dangerous Visions' and I wonder if you would do a story for it. How'd you like to put Jack the Ripper in the future?' I wrote a story called `A Toy for Juliette,' and sent it to Harlan. And he called me up and said, `Look, baby, I've got an idea. I think I'm gonna do the sequel to your story!' I said, `Be my guest.' So he did the story, and both duly appeared."

Then, Dorothy Fontana, script coordinator for the television series, "Star Trek," got into the act and asked Bloch to write a Jack the Ripper story for the show. Later on, Bloch wrote yet another story about Jack the Ripper for the short-lived "Ellery Queen" television series.

Of course, Bloch doesn't limit his affinity for villains with those real murderers of long ago. In fact, he is well acquainted with most of the horror/fantasy movie actors, some past and some present. And what he says about some of the modern-day meanies might come as a surprise. He says most of the "scary" actors are actually sweeties.

"I've never met one who wasn't. Vinnie Price is a very, very kindly and charming man. Peter Lorre used to love jokes and was very well educated. And Christopher Lee, of course, has his own screen idol, W.C. Fields -- believe it or not. He does a very good Fields imitation too; he's got a great sense of humor. He stayed with us for about 10 days when he first came over here. He'd come over one time previously, and did a Hitchcock (film) -- one of my stories. (He) used to start his mornings singing grand opera in the shower.

"I'll tell you something interesting, though," adds Bloch, with a wicked grin. "in light of my experience, most of the villains are very nice. Most of the heroes are S.O.B.s in real life. It's a catharsis."

Bloch, unlike his lead characters, is regarded as a sweet, kind, gentle and considerate human being. Blushing slightly, he says, "Oh, that's only because they're afraid of me. They'd be scared to say anything else. They're quite sure that behind that facade, just as with Boris (Karloff), there's got to be a monster lurking somewhere.

"That why he (Karloff) enjoyed being in `Peter Pan," as I recall, with Jean Arthur, in which he played Captain Hook," Bloch adds. "(That was) before Mary Martin. The kids loved that and they loved him in it. He was a sweetheart."

It is clear that, after 46 years of writing tales of horror and suspense, Bloch understands the motives behind the characters in a story and the actors who play those characters on film. Furthermore, he believe any writer should.

"I think writers should have some idea of the rationalizations that people make as well as their actual motivations. They've got to be able to understand emotional conflict. And this requires a knowledge of actual psychology, but not necessarily psychological terminology. I use a good deal of psychotherapeutic devices in my writing. But I've never taken a course in it. I don't know any shrinks. I've never been on a couch. It's all acquired secondhand.

"I merely use the phraseology because it's what people will understand. I don't necessarily agree with it, as a matter of fact," Bloch muses. "Although I use a number of psychotherapists in stories, they're generally treated rather unkindly by me because I don't think that psychiatry is a science at all. I think it's an art. But then, I don't think economics is a science, or meteorology."

Bloch's well organized office is in his Laurel Canyon home, which he shared with his wife of 16 years, Eleanor. I generally sit down at the typewriter at 9 o'clock in the morning," he says. "And I sit here and work away until the material begins to sound dumb and stodgy to me. When I see there's too many curled up papers in the wastebasket, then I'll quit."

His desk is situated so that he is seated away from the window, which frames a magnificent hillside view -- a potential distraction for any writer.

But for anyone who watches Bloch, the view of the hillside is not the distraction. Rather, it is the man typing. Bloch types fast -- about 100 words a minute -- but with only some of his fingers. The numbers vary from sitting to sitting.

"I don't have a standard system, but I use at least six, probably seven fingers. I couldn't tell you which ones, but they're always going.

Bloch also prefers a manual typewriter rather than an electric one. But, then, he claims he has no choice.

"I affect all mechanical objects adversely. Somebody came up here from UCLA to do one of these voice recordings -- an autobiography thing. They have a whole series in their files. (He) brought a huge machine and all the equipment (but) the minute the machine took a look at me, it stopped functioning. Completely!" He even insists on keeping a pen and paper handy -- just in case his trusty typewriter fails him.

Does he really affect all machinery adversely?

"Absolutely," he swears. "Everything but flush toilets."

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