*H.P. Lovecraft's, Book of Horror*: Arthur Machen's, *The Great God Pan* (1894)

A few days ago I discovered a very interesting fiction anthology at my local Half Price Books. It's titled, H.P. Lovecraft's Book of Horror and its edited by Stephen Jones and Dave Carson (New York: Fall River Press, 2008). It's a really interesting idea for an anthology.

It opens with H.P. Lovecraft's famous 1927 survey essay of weird literature, titled, "Supernatural Horror in Literature," and then it proceeds with a story from most of the writers Lovecraft highlights in this essay. So, basically, the anthology starts with a survey of what HPL thought was the best weird literature of his time; and then it gives you a taste of those writers (some forgotten), that he analyzed in his essay. In a way, you're reading the weird literature of the early 20th century with H.P. Lovecraft as your guide. Quite interesting.

I purchased the anthology for a specific story, Arthur Machen's proto-science-fiction / horror novella The Great God Pan (1894) which is widely considered to be a major influence for H.P. Lovecraft's "The Dunwich Horror." I read it and I want to share a little about it. Here's some plot:

Plot

It concerns a scientist by the name of Raymond. He has discovered a surgical means by which to allow an otherwise invisible realm of reality to be perceived by the human sensorium. A minor surgical modification of the brain, he has discovered, will allow a human subject to glimpse "the great god pan." I won't give away what that means. Let this suffice: after Raymond performs the surgery on his ward, what she glimpses does not result in something favorable.

Narrative Structure

The story is written quite well. What really strikes me about it is its narrative structure. The story is not related from the perspective of one character; rather, the plot unfolds through the points of view of many different characters, each with their specific knowledge and their specific ignorance. From the reader's perspective, you become privy to certain information as you pick out patterns that other characters, embedded in the storyworld, cannot hope to see. A consequence of this narrative structure is that you, the reader, are the one making all of the connections even as the characters struggle to make the connections. And as these patterns begin to reveal themselves, the horror begins to mount.

Theme

In terms of theme, there's a lot in this story going on with gender and sexuality. The "villain," if you will, is a woman who is strongly implied to be sexually promiscuous. And a component of the horror, it seems, is the idea that she would let so many gentleman into her bed and body. It's strange. As a modern, this obviously doesn't stir as much as it would for, say, a contemporary reader. And yet--there is nevertheless something powerful about the story.

"One goes out like a snuffed candle": The Horror of Marjorie Bowen and Other Worlds

I don't usually do two posts in one day. These days I've just been too busy working on my dissertation prospectus. But I find I have a little extra time this afternoon. I'm hanging out at a Caribou Coffee in Mayfield, Ohio, and I want to tell you about an interesting horror writer I just discovered.

Marjorie Bowen (1885-1952)

Her name is Marjorie Bowen (1885-1952). I don't know much about her other than that she wrote historical romances and horror stories. I picked up a collection of her short stories titled, The Bishop of Hell and Other Stories, and I read, "The Bishop of Hell." What a great story!

Some summary: it takes place in London in the late 18th century. It is ostensibly the remembrance of a fellow about a former friend by the name of Hector Geatrix. Hector Geatrix is a horrible guy. Of him the narrator states, "his reckless, his impiety, his boldness terrified even those hardened in wicked ways" (97). But what makes him even worse? He had been ordained a Bishop in the Church. The main crux of the narrative is Geatrix's love affair with a woman who he takes to the continent. I won't give it away, but it ends with a turn to the supernatural, an intriguing image that stirred me deeply.

Let me relate one great quote. Geatrix is meditating on engaging in a duel and the possibility of dying. This is what he says: "There's nothing, not even Hell, Jack--one goes out like a snuffed candle--just blackness, blackness, nothingness, nothingness" (106). I love the repition of the "blackness, blackness, nothingness, nothingness." Such a powerful and yet interesting statement taken in the context of the story's end (which, of course, I'm dying to tell you about. I won't, of course).

Let me try to articulate why I loved this story. First, it's pace. It moves so leisurely and yet relates so many events. In 15 pages you learn the life story of this villain. You learn where he has been, where he goes, and how he ends up. Secondly, in these 15 pages, a complete world is opened up for you. For me, Bowen was able to completely recreate London in the late eighteenth century through passing references to clothing, powdered wigs, jewelry, etc.. This is difficult to do.

Without a doubt, however, the greatest element of this story is how it suggests "other worlds." It folds into the texture of the narrative the idea that there is more to reality than this life. This effect is evoked more through tone than any direct statement. The portrait the narrator paints of Geatrix is disturbing, and it disturbs on a metaphysical level. How? I just don't know.

Anyhow, if you haven't heard of Marjorie Bown, if you haven't read her, then--I recommend this story to you. Wonder, wonderful.

The Best of Weird Tales in 1923: "The Basket" by Herbert J. Mangham

Tonight I want to tell you about another story from the anthology The Best of Weird Tales: 1923. Titled, "The Basket," this story was also in the first issue of Weird Tales.

Some summary: it's about a guy who stays at a boarding house who is extremely indeterminate. He doesn't tell anyone anything about who he is. He isn't very unique in terms of his physical appearances. And, he's a kind of random, unassuming sort of guy. Without spoiling the story for you, he simply "goes away" in the end. I won't tell you how.

I find this story extremely interesting. The protagonist is so anonymous. That is what I think his main characteristic is: anonymity. This is so interesting when one considers that specificity of character, setting, and time are what some would say defines the "novelistic" style. Sure, this is a short story, but it's still written in the "novelistic" or "realistic" style, if you will.

The first story from this anthology that I looked at is titled "The Grave," and it relates the story of a soldier in World War I who was buried alive and who tries to stay alive; and the main aesthetic effect of that story is confusion. He didn't know anything: was he going to be rescued? How many days had passed? Was the battle still raging?

Here you have a story where a character shows up, he's shrouded in mystery, and he disappears. And so, it's similar to the previous story in that the thematic preoccupation is "cognition" or "knowledge". The story depicts a protagonist who knows nothing; in the second story, we, as readers, know nothing.

I'm seeing a thematic preoccupation in Weird Tales with the unknown. Could these stories be thought of as thematically focused on unknowns?

The Best of Weird Tales in 1923: Orville R. Emerson's "The Grave"

So, I recently purchased an anthology of stories from Weird Tales titled, The Best of Weird Tales: 1923. This was supposed to be the inaugural book in a series of book--one for each year of Weird Tales publication. Not really sure what happened, but I'm sure what didn't happen: this was the only edition released.

Gods, I would have loved if they had done the entire series. Alas. Nevertheless, I've very greatful for this anthology, of which I read the first two stories and extremely enjoyed them. In this blog post I want to tell you about the first story, a story titled, "The Grave" by Orville R. Emerson. If you don't recognize this name, don't worry. I don't either. I did some google searches for him, and found nothing. Nothing whatsoever (aside froma  few passing references to this anthology and this *one* story in Weird Tales. I don't know why, but I find his anonymity intriguing.

Anyhow, what's this story about? Well, it takes place during "the Great War," and it is ostensibly written as the memoir of a German soldier who has been trapped in a underground fortress after it has been bombarded by allied rail guns. The story relates his struggles to survive: organizing supplies, rationing food, digging his way out, etc.. It's kind of a demented Robinson Crusoe, if you will. I won't give away the end because I think you should buy the anthology (it's a small press! c'mon!) and read it. But I what to reflect on some really interesting thematic issues.

Confusion and ignorance. The protagonist spends that vast majority of the time attempting to understand his situation. He thinks he will be relieved after the battle is over. He thinks one of the sides will stop to help the soldiers captured in the destroyed fortress. And so he's optimistic. After a while he starts second guessing himself. He then starts trying to keep track of the day and time, but can't, considering he's closed off from the world. And so, he doesn't know how long, i.e. how many hours, weeks, days, months he's been underground. Eventually he starts falling in and out of sleep and starts imagining that he's doing things he doesn't remember. For example, he'll committ to only eating so much of his rations; and, he'll wake up, and more rations are gone. He wonders, did he do this in my sleep?

Historical resonance. Considering this story was written in 1923, a time when the horrors of World War I were no doubt still lingering in the "cultural imagination" in the states, I think there is some intense "allegorical resonance" here. You have a protagonist extremely confused, hearing bombing all around him, struggling with rations, trying to say sane. Is it useful to think of him as a representing of a kind of universal experience of modernity at that time?

Anyhow. I wanted to share this story with particularly and this anthology with you generally. I hope to review more in the future.

Review of "The Shuttered Temple," by Jonathan L. Howard, in Black Gate 15

Last night I read the second story in Black Gate 15, "The Shuttered Temple," by Jonathan Howard. I really enjoyed it. The main character, Kyth, was intriguing, and the plot, though simplistic, was engaging.

There were a couple of things about this story that weren't to my taste. But, above all, it was quite entertaining.

The main character, Kyth the Taker, is a kind of "razor girl," if you will: an acrobatic, very wise, Rogue-type figure who always seems to be a step ahead in the game. Kyth is unique in that she's a "smart aleck" who always cracks jokes and says what she's thinking. Her skill, I would say, comes from her ability to analyze and extrapolate and understand things at sight. There's a scene where she's evaluating a specific problem, and--snap--she just understands. In this way, strangely enough, she suggested to me the non-fiction work Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell (in this book he analyzes folks who are able to just understand things because of their deep, ingrained professional abilities). In large part, Kyth is a super thief/burglar. I really liked Kyth and she was a big reason why I liked this story.

The plot some was somewhat simplistic for my tastes and I think there was a missed oppurtunity. It concerns this scary, evil temple that has never been infiltrated. Our protagonist, of course, has to infiltrate it. I won't spoil it for you. Finding out what is in the temple is great. And yet--I would have liked to have seen more of the temple. Your imagination runs wild as you think to yourself, "Just what? Oh--what?! is?! in that temple?!" Could it be zombies? Demons? A lich lord? The story helps in suggesting things that might be lingering inside of it. And yet, I felt as though it failed to deliver.

Nevertheless, I valued the story for its ability to evoke this curiosity in me.

The dialog was somewhat irritating. In spite of Kyth's likableness, sometimes she speaks too much like a modern person. I know, I know--secondary world fantasy isn't necessarily in "the past." I agree. I agree. I guess, when reading fantasy (and sword and sorcery) one of the elements I take pleasure in is the anachronistic language. This language seems slightly stilted, a little awkward, and somewhat historical. Rather than, "Hello! How're ya doin'?" you have, "Hail! Well met! How are you, friend?"

I'm absolutely sure this is a personal taste thing. I experience "modernized" dialog in secondary world fantasy as an incongruity. I mean, just look at my fiction. My characters speak like bad parodies of Shakespeare plays.

Briefly, let me say something about the writing style. I don't want to take it fore granted. Howard's writing is great. It's the kind of narrative style that becomes a "window," if you will; you forget you're reading. You just concentrate on the story. This isn't banality on his part. It takes a lot of skill and practice to develop this type of "organic" narrative prose. I wish I could do it.

Conclusion: great story. Some elements of it weren't to my taste. But! It was a great story: intriguing plot, likeable character, and skillful, economic prose.

Rating: 4/5

Review of Ruth Nestvold's "Never Ever After: Three Short Stories"

A few days ago I purchased the Kindle edition of Ruth Nestvold's Never Ever After: Three Short Stories. I've been busy with teaching, writing my dissertation prospectus, and auditing a Victorian literature class, and so I couldn't quite find the time to read it. This morning I pressed myself some coffee, went into my office, sat down, shut the door, and read it, the world be damned.

Here's my review of it.

Let me make some general comments about Nestvold's style in this anthology before I move on to look at each story separately. First off, I'm struck by her lyricism. Although she's writing in a novelistic style (not so much in the second story), there is a kind of poetry to her language, a rhythmic and musical quality to it. Unlike texts that hew completely to a novelistic style--where the reader can "forget" the language and thereby concentrate on the story--Nestvold's stories really make you revel in a good turn of phrase. Consider this passage: "She wound her way through the men like smoke, wafting by them, teasing." Such a beautiful simile! Her lyricism conforms, I think, to her subject matter, which straddles the line between traditional medieval romances and fairy tales.

Let me briefly say something about each story.

The first story, "A Serca Tale," is really interesting because it takes a fresh perspective on the epic hero. The epic hero in this story is not the "good guy" or protagonist. He's the antagonist who the main characters flee. The narrative is quite simple, consisting mostly of a flight away from a castle; and yet, the pleasure of this story is in the telling.

The second story, "King Orfeigh," was my favorite. This story is stylistically ambitious. The narrative style relies upon a commanding or "imperative" verb tense. For example, "You walk into the room. You go downstairs. You drink a cup of coffee." This narrative style has a strange way of alienating you from the story and bringing you closer into it. It definitely conforms to the emotional crisis being experienced by the main character, a wandering bard/king.

The final story, "Happily Ever After," is fun. It's an example of a kind of fiction I like to call a "revisionist fairy tale." The beauty of these stories are that they remind us that fairy tales are different than our lives. By juxtaposing psychological depth onto fairy tale characters, the lives of the fairy tale characters start to resemble our own. We start to wonder: if my life was a fairy tale, what kind would it be?

Conclusion: a wonderful collection of short stories that are stylistically beautiful and emotionally rich. I aim to read more of Nestvold.

If you're interested, here is a link to the book on Amazon.com: Never Ever After: Three Short Stories