
































Microsoft Word - Haarstick_final.docx


 1 

 

Contagious Narratives: Pandemics, Vaccines, and Zombies 

ANDREA KITTA Kiss of Death: Contagion, Contamination, and Folklore. 2019. Louisville, 

CO: Utah State University Press, pp 202 ISBN: 978-1-60732-926-8  

Keywords: Pandemics, Vaccination, Health, Legends, Monsters 

I was initially drawn to Andrea Kitta’s book, The Kiss of Death: Contagion, 

Contamination, and Folklore, because of my own research on families who choose not to 

vaccinate and the metaphors they use to describe bodily contamination through vaccines. A 

folklorist by training, Kitta argues that stories are our way of processing information, giving 

structure to our experiences and creating meaning from the world around us. Investigating 

narratives, she writes, offers insight into lay understandings of health and wellness, as stories in 

the form of popular rumors and legends easily find their way into private health-related beliefs 

and medical decision-making processes. Such “vernacular explanatory models” (vii) have very 

real consequences for individual’s health behaviors, and Kitta explains that health professionals 

often lack knowledge of the complex sociocultural influences that drive those behaviors, 

especially where contagion and contamination are concerned.  

Initially, I held a sliver of skepticism on how Kitta could blend ideas of biomedical 

contagion and contamination with narratives of zombie and vampire legends in one book. My 

skepticism was relieved immediately as Kitta reminded readers that the analysis of contagion and 

contamination are heavily slanted toward notions of biomedical health, adding that biomedical 

concepts of contagion and contamination have roots in social conditions, culture, and folklore 

narratives. She continues that for health professionals to adequately address issues in public 

disease management, such as successful responses to pandemics, they must have knowledge of 

contamination and contagion themes, rumors, and legends. Kitta delineates how these permeate 



 2 

personal and community narratives, including how they influence people’s beliefs and thoughts 

on viruses, bacteria, and germs. Kitta provides substantial evidence of society’s collective beliefs 

and thoughts on contagion and contamination, which are exhibited through pop culture movies or 

books centering on zombie apocalypses or vampire relationships. From this foundation, Kitta 

successfully intertwines concepts and examples of both biomedical-based contagion and 

contamination in the same book as discussions of the contagious aspects of zombies and 

vampires, including contamination through deadly kisses, for instance.  

The introduction covers a brief history of medical and scientific discourses surrounding 

“contagion” and “contamination,” including the linguistic and metaphorical history of the terms 

as well. Kitta sees contagion and contamination narratives as a way for society to make sense of 

social interactions. Additionally, these narratives can address the complex issues around people’s 

perceptions of contamination and contagion. She notes the importance of the outbreak and carrier 

narratives which represent “a crucial part of how we understand and process information about 

disease and spread” (5). During a pandemic outbreak, these narratives often include expressions 

of anxiety and fear, leading to an “outsider” labeling of the outbreak virus, often connected to 

foreigners bringing disease to North America. Here, Kitta suggests that folklorists and academics 

should use their positions of privilege to call out disease narratives that create division and 

blame. 

 Chapter Two flows seamlessly from the introduction as Kitta looks at disease narratives 

and stigmatization, both of which have deep colonial themes. She addresses the Western 

hemisphere’s preoccupation with establishing the origin of disease, including an obsession with 

finding “patient zero,” who often becomes a scapegoat in the blame-game of disease spread. She 

includes a comparative chart on current and historic patient zeros, which includes disease 

association, where they were from, their “dangerous” activity (how they contracted the disease), 

and their “otherness” (36-37). For example, the “dangerous activity” of the child from the 

Republic of Guinea infected with Ebola was that he played near bats, and his “otherness” was his 

residence in a rural area. She ends this chapter by discussing the Disneyland measles outbreak of 

2015, arguing that the speculation surrounding patient zero’s medical history (vaccinated or 

not?) and country of origin (American or “outsider”) leads to distinct contagion narratives 



 3 

depending on the presumed answers. Unsurprisingly, a vaccinated U.S. citizen makes for a more 

sympathetic patient zero in public narratives than an unvaccinated outsider.  

 Chapters Three and Four delve into the popular cultural phenomena of Slender Man, 

zombies, and vampires. These chapters make deep narrative and symbolic connections between 

violence against marginalized individuals and stories, legends, and folklore about monsters and 

hybrids. In Chapter Three, Kitta discusses the internet phenomenon of Slender Man, a tall, thin, 

and faceless “stalker” known to encourage self-harm, suicide, and revenge bullying. Slender 

Man is not a part of any traditional folklore, and first appeared in online forums. Chapter Four 

links monsters like zombies and vampires back to contagious disease narratives, but with 

elements of pop culture, deviancy, paternalistic power dynamics, and social expectations. Kitta 

stresses that contamination narratives are not only physical in nature, but also moral. Infection 

spread often includes ideologies of fear, hate, and anger which emerge prominently in times of 

stress, whether that stress comes from a global pandemic or social media bullying among 

teenagers. Specifically, Kitta connects the metaphors used in discussing monsters, such as 

vampires and zombies, to institutionalized medicine and fears about pandemics and how our 

perceptions and fears of a vampire bite as a supernatural and moral contagion connects to real 

viruses.  

 Chapter Five circles back to medical and vaccine contagion and contamination discourses 

about the Human Papilloma Vaccine (HPV). Here, Kitta notes how pro-vaccine discourse 

consists of underlying paternalistic rhetoric, including the use of polarization and shaming. 

Chapter Six, the title of which is also the title of the book, details numerous kissing motifs and 

the many aspects of a deadly kiss, including a kiss with poisoned lipstick and the legend of “The 

Peanut Butter Kiss,” which is a kiss between two people, one of whom has just eaten peanut 

butter, causing an allergic reaction in the other participant, tragically resulting in death. She also 

describes unintentional contamination when mothers kiss babies, passing on the herpes virus, 

sometimes with deadly results. Each narrative example in this chapter is connected through the 

idea of risky behavior or risky people, and that risk, like taboo, is highly charged both morally 

and politically.  

Kitta’s conclusion is a thorough synopsis of the entire book, encapsulating the most 

important points of each chapter and section. Additionally, exhorting researchers and academics 



 4 

to use research “to amplify the voices of the marginalized,” using their “privilege to push other 

voices to the forefront” (137). Lastly, a teaching companion at the end of the book includes a list 

of additional books and articles for those using The Kiss of Death in the classroom. Ultimately, 

The Kiss of Death: Contagion, Contamination, and Folklore is a quick and accessible read, 

weaving the worlds of health, medicine, and monsters into narratives, stories, and folklore. Kiss 

of Death speaks to how contamination and contagion topics create connection for some, while 

sowing division and blame for others.  

 

Kim Haarstick is a graduate student at North Dakota State University working on her MA in 

medical anthropology, with an emphasis in public health. Her research focus is on families living 

in the Upper Midwest who choose not to vaccinate.  

 

 

 

© 2020 Kim Haarstick 

 

 

 

 

 


