Introduction
The horror genre evokes expectations concerning its characteristics which the audience anticipates by referring to their genre knowledge that often comprises depictions and structures of space. These expectations usually revolve around questions such as the following: is it better to stay inside the house When a Stranger Calls (Simon West, 2006) or should one leave closed buildings as fast as one can? Is it safer to hide in the closet alone, armed with a knife or just a knitting needle as in Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978), instead of running outside, taking advantage of the wide open space, darkness and maybe other people’s help – even if a lake is nearby as in Friday the 13th (Sean S. Cunningham, 1980)? Most of the laughter and mockery in the audience arise when the ‘final girl’ runs back into the house for no reason or once the group of teenagers decides to take a shortcut through the woods, as in Wrong Turn (Rob Schmidt, 2003). [1] These examples show that the structure of space plays an important role in horror films, since it is obvious that there is a predominance of haunted houses, dark forests, gothic architecture, dark cellars etc. Whereas violence does not necessarily have to occur in all kinds of horror films such as ghost and supernatural movies, it is central to witch- and nunsploitation films. In these movies the organisation of space reinforces the threatening effect of violence or even causes it, since brutal force is very often applied in special places such as torture chambers or cellars. In the light of these observations, the article focuses on space(s) where violence is committed and on possibly secure space(s) in Mark of the Devil (Hexen bis aufs Blut gequält, Michael Armstrong, 1970) and Mark of the Devil Part II (Hexen geschändet und zu Tode gequält, Adrian Hoven, 1973).

Snowy landscape and untouched nature in Mark of the Devil Part II

As these films use elements of the Heimatfilm (homeland film) genre, the audience is confronted with many idyllic depictions of beautiful landscape and untouched nature. Consequently, a large part of the action takes place outside. Assuming both films allude to the tradition of the Heimatfilm, one might expect positive representations of scenes set in the natural world as opposed to scenes shot in interiors or urban settings. Apart from its analysis of the binary opposition ‘inside’ vs. ‘outside’, the article focuses on natural vs. un-natural spaces. [2] In this context one has to distinguish between two kinds of violence, namely legitimised and non-legitimised one. Since the legitimisation of it is a matter of official attitudes to certain kinds of violence, other important categories are ‘public’ and ‘private’. Can one expect that legitimised violence predominantly takes place in public space(s)? Talking about what is allowed and what is forbidden or unlawful leads to questions of power and control and to the matter of who is at the bottom and who is at the top of society. In order to answer these questions, it is necessary to study the filmic representation of hierarchal structures. Before analysing both films, a brief overview of the theoretical development of the category ‘space’ will be given, while putting a special emphasis on its importance for cultural and literary studies.
 
The Spatial Turn
Starting in the 1990s, a concentration on the notion of space can be identified in disciplines such as spatial planning and social studies, and especially in literary and cultural studies. The urban planner Edward W. Soja coined the term ‘spatial turn’ in 1989, [3] though a pertinent focus can be noticed much earlier. [4] From the 1960s, the category ‘space’ gradually started to be discovered. Important works which exemplify this tendency are, among others, “Different Spaces” by Michel Foucault and The Practice of Everyday Life by Michel de Certeau. [5] Predominantly in the 1990s, several spatial theories were established [6] which aimed at different cognitive interests: actually existing spaces and imaginary spaces were focused upon in various discourses, for example in philosophy and anthropology (Marc Augé), [7] in literary studies (Hans Krah) [8] and in theories of remembrance (Jan Assmann, Pierre Nora and Aleida Assmann). [9]

The Russian literary scholar and semiotician Jurij M. Lotman studied topographical and topological spaces, which means real and imaginary spaces, in his publication The Structure of the Artistic Text in the early 1970s: he assumed that all cultures have a preference for expressing non-spatial issues by spatial metaphors, for example ‘left’ vs. ‘right’ with regard to politics, or ‘upper’ vs. ‘lower’ in a social sense. Moreover, he identified a tendency towards semanticising spatial structures, which means ascribing non-spatial attributes to spatial, topographical structures. The assignment of semantic characteristics can be bound to topographical aspects, for example the evil which is bound to the torture chamber and thus to actually existing spaces. But these aspects do not necessarily have to be bound to real spaces. In this case, one could argue that they function in a manner akin to binary semantic oppositions such as good and evil. [10]

In the 1990s Hans Krah referenced Lotman’s approach and considered its value for the analysis of literary texts. Since literary texts and films are both forms of narration, similar narrative techniques and aesthetic features are used in order to structure them. Therefore, Krah’s literary theory can be adapted to film interpretation. He extends Lotman’s concept by differentiating between two concepts: the terms ‘abstract semantic space’ and ‘semanticised space’. Concerning semanticised spaces, special semantic features are connected with topographical spaces. [11] For example, in a fairy tale the forest is often associated with danger, whereas the hut or house symbolises security and shelter. [12] This connection between semantic meaning and topographical spaces is common in film and literature. In contrast, abstract semantic spaces do not depend on really existing spaces. For example, a text could be structured by the binary opposition ‘morality’ vs. ‘immorality’. Thus, there are two different abstract semantic spaces that are separated from each other. This separation means that there must be a border between two semantic spaces in Lotman’s sense. This border is decisive in order to identify binary oppositions which provide a basis for the interpretation of literary texts. The border separates the space in two disjunctive subspaces. It sets apart geographical features and topological characteristics that are bound to them and, as states Lotman, the border cannot be crossed. [13] According to Krah, identifying borders within a text is the central act of interpretation. [14] Characters are part of semantic spaces. In order to analyse film and literature it is decisive to find out which character belongs to which semantic space. Whenever a character transgresses a border, a so-called ‘event’ takes place according to Krah. This event is an important part of the narrative structure of the text. [15] For example, if a nun, living a modest and pure life, is raped as in Mark of the Devil Part II, an ‘event’ takes place: she leaves the semantic space of purity. This might be bound to a really-existing topographical space, like a convent, but does not necessarily have to be bound to it. Another important point Krah mentions in this context is what he calls the ‘space of extreme’ in which all central and constitutive characteristics of the semantic space are condensed. [16] Referring to our previous example, the semantic space ‘impurity’ might be condensed in a brothel.
 
Spatial Perspectives on Mark of the Devil and Mark of the Devil Part II
As already mentioned, Lotman identifies oppositions like ‘inside’ vs. ‘outside’ or ‘open’ vs. ‘closed’, these spatial oppositions connote specific semantic values. His theory distinguishes between a horizontal and a vertical axis. [17] These axes can also be identified in Mark of the Devil and its sequel, which will be summarised briefly.

Mark of the Devil is an exploitation film dealing with the European witch hunts using the example of a fictional Austrian village in the eighteenth century. It depicts in graphic detail how arbitrary and profit-orientated torture and murder took place. The young witch hunter Christian de Meron (Udo Kier) falls in love with the waitress Vanessa (Olivera Vučo) who is accused of practicing witchcraft. Meanwhile, Christian’s mentor and church-sent witchfinder, Lord Cumberland, his men and his competitor Albino (Reggie Nalder), the local witchfinder who fears to lose his position of power, tyrannise the village’s inhabitants. Little by little, Christian understands that the trials and executions redound only to his mentor’s advantage. But despite Christian’s awakening, Vanessa’s courage and the people’s revolt, Lord Cumberland is able to escape after having being responsible for numerous crimes, whereas Christian is assassinated by the remaining villagers. Furthermore, the film suggests that misogyny resulting from sexual dysfunctions in case of Lord Cumberland or other handicaps, like Albino’s deformed face or executioner Jeff Wilkens’s (Herbert Fux) narrow-mindedness, play an important role for the atrocities perpetrated by the churchmen and their assistants.

The sequel Mark of the Devil Part II deals with the cruel deeds of the witch hunter Balthasar von Ross (Anton Diffring) who misuses his power in order to arbitrarily accuse people of witchcraft, to torture them and to sexually abuse women. When the nobleman Alexander von Salmenau (Adrian Hoven) is murdered, his little son (Percy Hoven) is excommunicated and his wife Elisabeth (Erika Blanc) is declared a witch. Since von Ross is not able to make her sexually compliant, she is brutally tortured. With the aid of one of the witch hunter’s handymen, mother and son manage to escape and finally gain freedom. In the following, Lotman and Krah’s theoretical observations are used to analyse the spatial structures at play in both films.
 
Horizontal Axis
On the horizontal axis, the dichotomy ‘inside’ vs. ‘outside’ and ‘open’ vs. ‘closed’ can be identified. Another opposition on the horizontal axis is ‘natural’ vs. ‘un-natural’ spaces in Mark of the Devil and its sequel. Un-natural spaces are supposed to be civilised and cultivated, but it will be shown that they are not necessarily so, they rather seem to be spaces of deviance. Examples are castles, the marketplace, the torture chamber, the tavern and private homes. The apparent diversity of these places demands another differentiation into ‘public’ and ‘private’ un-natural spaces so that we will consider the marketplace as a public un-natural space, whereas we will call the home of the attacked couple in Mark of the Devil a private un-natural space.

​Closed inside spaces like the torture chamber or the prison cell contrast sharply with outside open areas, like the woods, the creek and the meadows, which can be called natural spaces. Acts of violence can occur in natural spaces as well as in both types of un-natural spaces. Decisive for our study is the kind of violence used. For the following analysis there is a need to distinguish between seemingly legitimised and non-legitimised violence. Thus, topological issues transported by un-natural and natural spaces are the binary oppositions ‘non-legitimised violence’ vs. apparently ‘legitimised violence’ and ‘imprisonment/torture’ vs. ‘freedom/happiness’. Indicators for legitimised violence are, for example, verdicts which are supposed to bring the effects of justice and fairness. Witnesses are allowed and even welcome because of the execution’s determent effects. Therefore, the offender’s punishment takes place in public un-natural spaces like the marketplace. However, non-legitimised violence proceeds without verdict or trial but is determined by arbitrariness. These executions are supposed to take place in secret so that they cannot be witnessed by others. Atrocities exercised in un-natural spaces differ from quasi-legitimised actions, for example the burning of the ‘witches’, and non-legitimised actions like the assault on the pair of lovers and the crimes committed in the torture chamber. This gives the impression that quasi-legitimised actions happen in public un-natural spaces, whereas the non-legitimised takes place in closed private un-natural spaces. Nature appears to be the place of ease, when the relationship between the protagonists Vanessa and Christian develops: the couple splashing in the creek stands for happiness. Although they supposedly know that their situation is difficult because of their different social backgrounds, they are joyful and carefree. This scenery is emphasised by idyllic music, warm colours and light. Nature seems to be a place of contemplation as well, for example when in Mark of the Devil, Christian doubts his role as a witchfinder when he walks through the hilly landscape.

The open door which enables Elisabeth von Salmenau to escape from torture in Mark of the Devil Part II

​The end of Mark of the Devil Part II presents Elisabeth von Salmenau leaving the place of horror and torture through a door. For all the spaces mentioned it is remarkable that the topographical border is very often a door. According to Stefan Höltgen, it is a motif that occurs in many exploitation and horror films. In his article, he concentrates on the motif of the door and gives an overview on its manifold functions using cinematic examples from the early to the contemporary genre of the horror film. The door separates two settings from each other and can be regarded as a membrane. [18] Frequently, it functions as a border between good and evil. Elisabeth von Salmenau and her son gain freedom and can start a new life by escaping in a carriage that leads them through fields and woods. Thus, the topography of nature is enriched by non-spatial features that have positive connotations like brightness, the chance of life and new beginnings. Also, Mark of the Devil features one significant sequence that contains evidence of the differences between nature and un-natural spaces and their separation by a door: the son of the puppet master (Percy Hoven), his sister and other children are playing outside, having fun and indulging in innocent games, until executioner Wilkens and the advocate (Johannes Buzalski) appear and start to chase the kids. Although there is no real immanent danger outside the house, the boy reaches it and closes the door with relief, and for a moment he feels safe and secure.

The puppet master’s son reaches the door with relief in Mark of the Devil

Wilkens and the advocate open the front door of the puppet master’s home in Mark of the Devil

Wilkens and the advocate succeed in opening the front door and later even the door to the living room, thus invading the parents’ space and that of their friends and guests. According to Krah, this is when an ‘event’ takes place [19] since the border between two semantic spaces, and in this case even topographical ones, is crossed, as the safety of a private closed space is undermined by the advocate and Wilkens, who both belong to the ‘dark side’ and represent intruders. Consequently, the semantic space of safety is interfered with by the two characters associated with a notion of violence and threat and becomes the setting for the needle test which is used in order to prove someone’s witchcraft. The violence that takes place is non-legitimised, as the puppet master’s (Adrian Hoven) house is a private un-natural room. Although there is an audience, it is not an official event, since people watching the performance are family and friends.

​In another example nature is presented in an ambiguous way: the beginning of Mark of the Devil Part II is set in the scenery of an idyllic snowy landscape. As the family von Salmenau is enjoying their journey, emphasised by pleasant music, the natural scenery adds to the positive impression of familial togetherness.

Happy family journey through the snowy landscape in Mark of the Devil Part II

​But suddenly, the joyful atmosphere is changed: the family witnesses the torture of a woman who is supposed to be a witch. As Alexander von Salmenau, the head of the family, tries to protect the accused woman, he is murdered. The father, who was part of the semantic space of happiness, exits this space and transgresses the border to the space of violence and even death as he is killed. For our analysis it is remarkable that it is non-legitimised violence – the woman had no trial and the father’s death is murder – that is assigned to the topographical space ‘nature’ as a non-spatial feature and stands in sharp contrast to the predominantly positive representation of nature.

The torture of a woman accused as a witch in Mark of the Devil Part II

​A similarly subversive use of the natural environment can be found at the end of Mark of the Devil when Christian is assassinated with an instrument of torture on a lawn next to the forest. Here again, the positively connoted topography of the natural landscape is converted into a place of horror by the predominance of semantic features such as non-legitimised violence and death.

Christian’s assassination in Mark of the Devil

​The following examples from the films are cited in order to differentiate the kinds of violence occurring in un-natural private and un-natural public spaces. Executions on un-natural public spaces are, for example, the burning, tarring and feathering at the marketplace in Mark of the Devil. These deeds seem to be committed after trials, at least the film presents certain administrative and legitimating actions like sealing and reading out verdicts. Sentences are announced in public and the killing functions as a kind of entertainment for the crowd. Different rules apply to open un-natural spaces than to closed ones. When interrogated by Cumberland, the captive Daume (Michael Maien) is outside the castle in an open un-natural space, where he is offered a deal securing him freedom on the condition that he donate his property to the Church. In this sequence he is not a victim of cruel violence, being ‘only’ bound. Once held inside the closed space of the castle, he finds himself at the mercy of Cumberland and his men. Unfortunately, none is shown, and what Daume is confronted with is cruelty, arbitrary violence and torture which are certainly not legitimised by a trial and subsequent sentence. It becomes apparent that the private un-natural spaces are those where non-legitimised violence is performed: while a couple is having sex and enjoying their togetherness in Mark of the Devil, romantic music is played. Thoughtlessly, the woman stands naked at the window when the drunk Albino and his helpers pass the house. As they see her undressed, they break into the bedroom through the door which again functions as a border between the semantic spaces ‘danger’ and ‘security’ and the topographical spaces ‘bedroom’ and ‘staircase’.

Albino breaks into a private bedroom in Mark of the Devil

​Spontaneously and without any reason, the young woman is punched in the face; furthermore, two of Albino’s men try to rape her, while her partner is stabbed. Another range of closed un-natural spaces is depicted in the basement of the castle: this is where the crimes of torture and the raping of the nun in Mark of the Devil Part II – non-legitimised violence – are committed. The semantic space ‘violence’ is condensed in the separate dungeon in which Chinese water torture takes place in Mark of the Devil.

Chinese water torture in Mark of the Devil

​Thus, this very special prison cell can be regarded as a ‘space of extreme’ which is – once more – separated by a door that is frequently opened and closed by executioner Wilkens. Here, the door functions as a membrane between the cell itself and the wider space of the torture chamber building where Wilkens waits to tantalise his victim. These opposed spaces are, for example, marked by the different use of light: the cell is completely dark, whereas the room outside is shown in bright yellowish colours which blind the deranged and pained puppet master whenever the door is opened – accompanied by a screeching sound which accentuates the fundamental difference of these spaces.
 
Vertical Axis
After the discussion of the horizontal axis, we turn to the vertical axis. Here it is the opposition ‘top’ vs. ‘bottom’ [20] which stands for power and powerlessness respectively. Topographically, these oppositions are presented, for example, by the dungeon in the basement and the courtroom upstairs. Though there exists a consistency concerning a strict hierarchy of power, namely the powerless crowd and the mighty head inquisitors and judges, throughout Mark of the Devil, there are also a few moments in which the predominating hierarchy is subverted. At the end of the film, we watch the crowd’s revolution, as the castle is stormed.

The crowd storms the castle in Mark of the Devil

​All the doors that have hidden the degrading treatment of the imprisoned people are forced opened. Topographically, this subversion of power is expressed by the attack on the castle elevated above the village, where the ‘event’ in the sense of Krah begins. In this context, the tavern could be called a ‘space of extreme’ because it is the source of revolutionary ideas where the redistribution of power starts.

The tavern as the source of revolutionary ideas in Mark of the Devil

​It becomes the emblematic locale of peasants’ strength and subversion. Unfortunately, this power is turned against Christian: the mob uses non-legitimised violence outside the castle by blocking Christian’s way out of it. One could argue that the revolutionaries encircling the young witchfinder also function as a kind of door, since they are the border between the oppressive conditions of the castle and the freedom outside it.

The mob blocks Christian’s way out of the castle in Mark of the Devil

Finally, they even tolerate his murder, stay passive and do not interfere, which demonstrates that the old hierarchy of power is not completely abolished though some of the oppressors fled or died.

Examining the topography of the castle, we can state that the non-spatial attributes that characterise the building in Mark of the Devil are ambivalent. This is because of the fact that the castle can be divided into ‘upstairs’ and ‘downstairs’. Rooms upstairs have connotations of power and self-determination, whereas rooms downstairs (especially in the basement) represent the absence of power and being at the mercy of sadists. When Vanessa is allowed to sleep in one of the bedrooms upstairs as Christian’s guest, she is not threatened and feels like a ‘real lady’ although she is a member of the common folk. There is no danger she has to cope with, thus she can leave her door open and unlocked. The oppositional semantic spaces ‘danger’ and ‘security’ do not exist here, hence, there is no border. Vanessa is allowed to leave whenever she wishes and returns to her home and real social status by using the bridge which leads her to the village and back to the crowd. Later, when she is a prisoner in the castle, she is confined to the cellar. As already mentioned, this topographical space is dominated by the non-spatial attribute ‘violence’.

​Finally, a last example is discussed which combines the vertical and the horizontal axis: in Mark of the Devil Part II, the head inquisitor’s (Herbert Kersten) men torture Elisabeth in the cellar, while von Ross, the head inquisitor, other officers and Elisabeth’s son, Alexander, are gathered on a higher floor. Remarkably, the inquisitor does not go downstairs and never enters the room where his victim is on the rack. Instead, von Ross interrogates Elisabeth from upstairs through a hatch in the floor. While von Ross asks the questions, the head inquisitor instructs the torture. [21]

Elisabeth’s interrogation through a hatch in the floor in Mark of the Devil Part II

​Von Ross stays upstairs where he deliberates upon how to proceed with little Alexander. The force that is used against the boy upstairs in the court room, for example the needle test, represents violence that is legitimised by judicial power, whereas the torture of Elisabeth downstairs takes place without a sentence. The border between downstairs and upstairs, non-legitimised vs. legitimised violence or powerlessness vs. power, is symbolised by the trap door that is finally closed so that any connection between these spaces and notions is interrupted.

Little Alexander suffers in the court room while his mother is tortured downstairs in Mark of the Devil Part II

Conclusion
As our examples have shown, violence is mostly presented in un-natural spaces and not amidst nature, whereas natural spaces rather signify liberty and pleasure, happiness and affection. A possible reason for this artistic representation might be the influence of the Heimatfilm. Characteristically, in this genre we very often find a positive representation of nature. Other features of this genre which can also be identified in Mark of the Devil are village life, unspoiled landscapes and idyllic music, local democracy and a reduction of complexity in general, i.e. by using clichés and stereotypes. Since the films discussed in this article belong to the witch-/nunsploitation genre that amongst others often comprises brutal sequences, specific settings are required that allow for scenes of torture, rape, mutilation and humiliation. For this purpose, un-natural closed and private spaces like cellars, prison cells, dungeons and torture chambers are ideal. They turn into the counterspace of nature. Against the expectation of the audience, there are few cases when nature – seemingly secure – changes into a place of terror with a shocking effect, i.e. when the von Salmenaus are attacked in the snow-covered winter landscape in Mark of the Devil Part II. 

​Another important aspect discussed here is the distribution of power. Legitimised violence occurs mostly outside in un-natural spaces like the marketplace and is used for deterrent effects, as in the case of Cumberland’s burning of the ‘witches’. In contrast, sadistic, not even quasi-legitimised, violence takes place in closed, hidden rooms and aims at individual pleasure, for example Wilkens’s cruel deeds in the torture chamber. The distribution of power in Mark of the Devil does not change, although the people show that they have potential subversive power, for example when they try to storm the castle. This storming of the castle performs a climatic function. The existing arrangement of topographical and topological spaces is changed, at least for a moment, since non-legitimised violence is revealed and exposed in public. At the very end, existing power and the status quo are re-established when Christian’s murder is witnessed and supported by the crowd. This also involves the topological order being restored, which means hierarchical oppositions like ‘top’ and ‘bottom’, ‘power’ and ‘powerlessness’ are demarcated again.

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Footnotes

1. The ‘final girl’ is the last female survivor in a slasher film who kills the perpetrator at the end. See Clover, C. ([1992] 2015) Men, Women and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. Rev. ed. Woodstock: Princeton University Press.
2. The authors are aware of the fact that natural spaces may also comprise those that at second glance turn out to be cultivated ones, i.e. parks. Since in the context of this film analysis only prototypical natural spaces are discussed, we nevertheless stick to the opposition ‘natural’ vs. ‘un-natural’. In this article, the term ‘un-natural’ is used to describe spaces, whether rural or urban, which are artificial in the sense of being constructed by human activity.
3. See Soja, E. W. (1989) Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London: Verso.
4. See Bachmann-Medick, D. (2009) Cultural Turns: Neuorientierungen in den Kulturwissenschaften. 3rd ed. Reinbek: Rowohlt.
5. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press; Harvey, D. (1973) Social Justice and the City. London: Edward Arnold; Lefebvre, H. ([1974] 1991) The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell; Bakhtin, M. M. ([1975] 1981) “Forms of Time and of the Chronotope in the Novel”, In: Bakhtin, M. M. The Dialogic Imagination. Ed. by Holquist, M. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 84–258; de Certeau, M. ([1980] 1984) The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press; Foucault, M. ([1984] 1998) “Different Spaces”, In: Faubion, J. D. (ed.) The Essential Works of Michel Foucault, 1954–1984. Vol. 2. New York: The New Press, 175–185; Massey, D. B. (1984) Spatial Divisions of Labour: Social Structures and the Geography of Production. London: Macmillan.
6. Dünne, J. and Günzel, S. (2012) “Vorwort”, In: Dünne, J. and Günzel, S. (eds) Raumtheorie: Grundlagentexte aus Philosophie und Kulturwissenschaften. 7th ed. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 9–15: 12–13.
7. See Augé, M. ([1992] 1995) Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity. London: Verso.
8. See Krah, H. (1999) “Räume, Grenzen, Grenzüberschreitungen”, Kodikas/Code Ars Semeiotica, 22 (1–2), 3–12; Krah, H. (2006) Einführung in die Literaturwissenschaft/Textanalyse. Kiel: Ludwig, 300–338.
9. See Assmann, J. (1992) Das kulturelle Gedächtnis: Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen. München: C. H. Beck; Nora, P. ([1984–1992] 1996–1998) Realms of Memory: The Construction of the French Past. 3 vols. New York: Columbia University Press; Assmann, A. (1999) Erinnerungsräume: Formen und Wandlungen des kulturellen Gedächtnisses. München: C. H. Beck.
10. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text, 231–233.
11. See Krah, H. (2006) Einführung in die Literaturwissenschaft/Textanalyse, 300–302.
12. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text, 230.
13. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text, 230.
14. See Krah, H. (1999) “Räume, Grenzen, Grenzüberschreitungen”, 7.
15. See Krah, H. (2006) Einführung in die Literaturwissenschaft/Textanalyse, 307.
16. The German original version uses the term Extremraum. See Krah, H. (2006) Einführung in die Literaturwissenschaft/Textanalyse, 304–305.
17. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text, 230.
18. See Höltgen, S. (2013) “It Opens Doors”, Film und Buch: Das Magazin für Film- und Literaturanalyse, 1 (1), 4–8.
19. Krah, H. (2006) Einführung in die Literaturwissenschaft/Textanalyse, 307.
20. See Lotman, J. M. ([1971] 1977) The Structure of the Artistic Text, 230–232.
21. Interestingly, there is an intertextual connection, since Herbert Kersten plays a judge in the German-Italian sexploitation film Come Now, My Dear Little Bird (Komm nur, mein liebstes Vögelein, Rolf Thiele, 1968) who allows witches to be tortured in the very same torture chamber of Moosham Castle.

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