From the most ancient of times mankind has built humanoid figures, imagined personalities for them … and come to fear them. What if the statue of Zeus stepped off the dais? What if the child’s doll sat up from the floor where it was discarded? What if the scarecrow jumped off its cross and shuffled out of the cornfield?
There are countless stories based on this theme. The Jewish story of the Golem is one of the oldest, but probably Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein is the best known today. Not all are horror stories, of course, as evidenced by Pixar Animation’s Toy Story movies. But many are. The only ones that matter here are horror stories.
Specifically, I want to talk about scarecrows. Growing up in Oklahoma, I’ve seen a few scarecrows standing guard in various fields, though they’re not really a common sight here. When seen, though, they can be rather creepy, even when the creator makes an effort to lighten them up with funny hats or silly grins.
My first experience with a scarecrow was as a kid. My dad and I built one for Halloween. Well, he built it. I mostly held boards for him to nail. We dressed it in some of my dad’s old clothes and left it lying on the floor of the garage. We had to take it apart the next day because my younger sister was just too scared of it.
There are several scarecrow movies out there, such as the one I mentioned a few days back, The Dark Night of the Scarecrow. Other movies employ scarecrow imagery to good effect, most notably The Blair Witch Project. Remember those stick figures? There are some good short stories about scarecrows, too. I remember reading a good one in The Horror Show magazine back in the 1980s, though I can’t remember the title or author now.
What is it that attracts us to such stories? My theory is that after we’ve created the thing we can’t help but project some personality upon it. It’s a blank slate, and humans being human, we let our minds wander. We ask the question every writer asks: What if …?
What if the scarecrow me and my dad made had known that it would be murdered the next day because of my sister’s fear? Would it have gotten up off that cold cement floor and tried to save itself?
The scarecrow isn’t likely to lose its small place in the horror pantheon anytime soon. As with any established figure, writing a new scarecrow story that will capture a reader’s imagination won’t be easy, but they can be used very effectively to heighten a sense of dread in a story, even when they aren’t actually shambling after us.
What scarecrow stories do you remember? Have you ever made a scarecrow? Did you project some personality onto it? If so, was it benevolent or malevolent? Were you afraid of your creation?
Steven E. Wedel 
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