A fine short article from PulpFest today, “Pulp History: Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?” considers what the hero pulps and imaginative escapism meant emotionally to ordinary people during the hard times of the Great Depression in America. It makes the interesting point, not often encountered, that the first science-fiction fandom was in part a defiant grassroots expression of sheer hope by youngsters. Hope in the face of what must have seemed like an inescapable disaster that, so far as they knew, was set to go on and on and damage their entire lives. It’s good to think that Lovecraft played his part in keeping some of that hope alive, and helping the scene to grow into something more imaginative and sustainable than it might have been.

It’s often said that the flying cars never arrived, but the more thoughtful of those early writer-fans got what they wanted. Not least of whom was the influential Arthur C. Clarke, who interestingly was an early fan of Lovecraft’s cosmicism. Within a few decades there really were manned rockets leaving earth, and the initial exploration of the Solar System was underway. The escapism of the 1930s had reached escape velocity, you might say. Perhaps the steely-eyed missile-men of the Cold War would have got us part of the way there anyway. But without Lovecraft’s progeny we might not have had the post-war will toward sustained space exploration, nor enjoyed the ride half as much.

Anyway, PulpFest is set for early August 2022, which is less than three months away now. It’s to be in a place called “Mars, PA” which I had to look up. Bing Maps reveals it is not actually on Mars, but rather a small town to the north of Pittsburgh and about 250 miles west of New York City. Booking now.