“The Return of the Undead”

Horrorbabble has a new 50-minute reading of “The Return of the Undead” (Weird Tales, November 1925) by Lovecraft’s friend Arthur Leeds. It proved a strong hit with the Weird Tales readers and Lovecraft called it a “splendid tale of a child vampire” in a fever hospital. As I wrote earlier, it is presumably nearly out of copyright now (1st January 2022) and might make for a timely visual adaptation.

Revista Planeta #01

New on Archive.org, Revista Planeta #01 (1964) from Buenos Aires, with an article on Lovecraft by Jacques Bergier in what I assume is Portuguese translated from French. Pages 84-85 of the journal are missing, presumably having having had another facing full-page picture of Lovecraft and thus been removed and framed at some point. One such remains…

Bergier credits Lovecraft with knowing Zulu and other African languages. Lovecraft might well have discussed it with the likes of Edward Lloyd Sechrist, and thus known a few phrases, but I suspect he did not have the patter…

In order to follow this path, Lovecraft began by absorbing much of human knowledge. I never corresponded with such an omniscient being. He knew an untold number of languages, including four African languages: Damora, Swahili, Zulu, and Zani, and numerous dialects. He wrote with identical scholarship on mathematics, relativistic cosmogony, Aztec civilization, ancient Crete, or organic chemistry.

Bergier’s article is followed by a Portuguese translation of “Hypnos”. This is illustrated by Pierre Balas…

Witch of the Demon Seas

Just the thing for a dull Monday, a new two and a half hour LibriVox recording by Phil Chenevert for Witch of the Demon Seas by Poul Anderson. It was the only Planet Stories tale he didn’t use his own name for, possibly because he also had another tale in the same January 1951 issue.

There’s also an existing paid audiobook, which has this enticing blurb…

an entertaining romp with pirates, witches, wizards and bizarre sea aliens [and] an intriguing brand of “magic” [which] eschews the typical supernatural underpinnings in favor of the more scientific.

The journal Amra (February 1977) observed…

Witch of the Demon Seas (January ’51); a damn good heroic fantasy, beautifully and accurately illustrated by Vestal.

A recent account of a reading of “Witch” by Mporcius has way too much plot-spoiling summary to risk linking, but he usefully observes…

Anderson’s story totally lives up to the sex and violence reputation of Planet Stories … Even though its full of dragons, sea serpents, witches and swordsmen, this is a science fiction story, not a fantasy. What the characters seek is not a pile of treasure, but knowledge.

It all sounds quite positive to a Conan fan. The main character is even called Corun. But there’s more. Anderson had similar Planet Stories tales in 1951, “The Virgin of Valkarion” and “Swordsman of Lost Terra”. “Swordsman” is also available in a 2021 Librivox audiobook — though with a different reader than “Witch”, and you may want to tweak the AIMP player’s pitch settings to get a deeper voice.

These three pulp tales obviously gave the author a taste for the approach, and they were followed in 1954 by what is said to be the very superior dark fantasy novel The Broken Sword. This apparently drew heavily on much the same sources as Tolkien, resulting in a ‘Norse Vikings vs. Elves’ situation that was actually slightly pre-Tolkien and all the more interesting for it. Dark World notes that in the 1970s Anderson returned to do more writing for the Broken Sword world, following a successful 1971 re-issue of his by-then-forgotten novel. Of this original novel Dark Worlds observed…

perhaps the finest American heroic fantasy, with good characterizations, excellent surface detail, good plotting, and an admirable recreation of the mood of the Old Norse literature.

The Lumley revisions

Walking the Strangeways digs up Three poems by William Lumley (1934-1935) of Buffalo N.Y. These are…

* “The Dweller” (1934) by William Lumley. [Definite HPL revision]
* “Shadows” (1934) by William Lumley.
* “The Elder Thing” (1935) by William Lumley. [“Perhaps” a HPL revision]

The first and last are obviously chanter-poems meant for oral recital in the old lugubrious manner, and are rather lively in their way.

Of the three The Ancient Track has only the first, “The Dweller”, in the appendix “Lovecraft’s Revisions of Poetry”.

The Lovecraft Encyclopedia has…

HPL also revised Lumley’s “occasional bits of verse”, perhaps including “The Elder Thing”

… but says nothing of “Shadows”. It does seem poor and different compared to the other two, and it doesn’t feel like one Lovecraft revised.

Elsewhere in poetry this week, The Lone Animator announces he is working on a stop-motion animation for Donald Wandrei’s poetry sequence “Sonnets of the Midnight Hours”.

Bibliomysteries

New on Archive.org, a comprehensive plot-annotated checklist of ‘Bibliomysteries’, from the mid 1980s and published in the fine Armchair Detective journal. These being mystery novels across various genres which centre on rare books, book collectors, old bookshops and suchlike.

* Introduction and Part One.

* Part Two.

Even if you don’t care to track down and read any of these, just reading over the abundant setting/plot details could be useful for spurring fresh ideas about plot elements for Mythos fiction or for RPGs.

Note that Part One is immediately followed by a short survey of “The Science-Fiction Detective Story”, up until that time.

“Saturday I took a cheap excursion to the White Mountains…”

Guillermo del Toro has pitched a smaller-scale rewrite of his movie adaptation of Lovecraft’s At The Mountains of Madness. If picked up it could be made by Netflix with an “unknown cast”, and he told a recent podcast

I can go to a far more esoteric, weirder, smaller version of it where I can go back to some of the scenes that were left out. Some of the big set pieces I designed, for example, I have no appetite for. I’ve already done this or that giant set piece. I feel like going into a weirder direction. I know a few things will stay, I know the ending we have is one of the most intriguing, weird, unsettling endings for me. So there’s about four horror set-pieces that I [still] love in the original script.

‘Picture postals’ from Lovecraft: “Rhoby”

This fine postcard evokes the rural world in which the wife of Lovecraft’s maternal grandfather, and later Lovecraft’s mother, came of age. A small public library, barely bigger than a chicken-coop, with a chicken-yard to one side. Possibly eggs were sold for a nominal amount, as an enticement to children to join the library. The location is North Scituate which is about six miles west of the very centre of Providence. Robie (known to Lovecraft as ‘Rhoby’) — Robie Alzada Place (1827–1896) — is the one who gives the place the connection to Lovecraft. S.T. Joshi, in I Am Providence, notes of her…

Of Whipple Phillips’s wife Robie [married Jan 1856] very little is known. Lovecraft states that she attended the Lapham Institute (cited by Lovecraft as “Lapham Seminary”) in North Scituate, Rhode Island … but does not supply the date of her attendance.

Lovecraft explained the somewhat convoluted family line, to Moe in a letter…

These [ancestors] marry’d, respectively, Stephen Place and Jeremiah Phillips — and in the next generation Sarah’s daughter Rhoby Place (nam’d for her aunt) marry’d Rhoby’s son Whipple Phillips …. these espoused cousins becoming my mother’s parents.

The Lovecraft family ‘Commonplace Book’ contained much information about Robie’s Place family and ancestors at nearby Foster, R.I. de Camp’s biography of Lovecraft, perhaps leaning on oral evidence that has not come down to us, has…

In 1855, he and his younger brother James fell in love with two local girls, Robie Alzada Place and her cousin Jane Place. Said Whipple to James: “You take Jane and the farm, while I take Robie and go to Providence to seek my fortune.

The newly married couple then lived a few miles further west, at Foster, in the homestead built there by her father Stephen Place and in which Robie had been born. (Lovecraft’s mother was also to be born at the Foster house). One might then suspect that the unmarried Robie had regularly travelled the few miles from Foster to North Scituate for her schooling. But a little research reveals a new data point. It was a boarding school with large boarding facilities for girls, and she may thus have been staying there in the week and then going home at weekends…

Her most likely attendance dates centre on circa 1845-50, with Lovecraft himself suggesting from “1845” in one letter. The school would have been known as the “Smithville Seminary”, here seen circa 1900 and with the frontage much unchanged. One assumes a school library matching that of the town itself, and perhaps with some connection between the the two libraries.

Did Lovecraft ever visit? He certainly passed through the general district at his leisure on his 21st birthday. Since he had treated himself to an epic all-day tram (‘car’) ride. This first sent him out of Providence and…

riding westward through the picturesque countryside of my maternal ancestors” (letter to F. Lee Baldwin, 1934)

On his return from New York his family history researches may have taken him there in pursuit of memories of Robie and her schooling, and especially her astronomical work. We know that in the mid 1920s, after returning from New York, he made several long and intensive ‘gleaning’ expeditions to Foster and Greene and roundabouts in search of family history.

However, he may not have found much. By 1923 the Institute had passed through several hands and the old Baptist records and yearbooks had undoubtedly been removed to Baptist archives. By 1923 it had become established as the Watchman Institute, though there were bad fires there in 1924 and 1926 and “both wings burned down” according to one history. One has to wonder if there was much there for Lovecraft and his aunt to glean circa 1926-28, other than a brief stroll past the smoke-stained frontage and around the charred grounds.

But Lovecraft might have learned something of the texture of the old life, in Foster and North Scituate, nearer to home. Because his near-lifelong Providence barber came from North Scituate, and one thus imagines that the barber’s memories of the place and its gleaming ‘school on the knoll’ came up from time to time in the barber’s chair…

Had my hair cut yesterday by the same old barber who removed my flowing curls in 1894. He’s a good old R.I. Yankee of the 7th generation of North Scituate settlers.” (May 1926)

There was also a fine new observatory in North Scituate, albeit 75 years later and private. Lovecraft’s “The September Sky” newspaper astronomy column (1st September 1914) concluded by noting the opening of the then-new observatory there…

Of particular interest to Rhode Islanders is the opening of Mr. F. E. Seagrave’s new private observatory in North Scituate, about two miles north of the village. The building stands on an eminence 342 feet above sea-level, free from the smoke and lights of the city, and commanding a magnificent view of the celestial vault.

The observatory had formerly been on 119 Benefit Street, Providence, but there appears to be no evidence of the young Lovecraft being invited to visit the new one on Peeptoad Road. But Robie might have done so, and before the building of the observatory there. Robie had been a Baptist, but that did not then preclude also being an astronomer with a substantial library and presumably a telescope to match. Lovecraft told Moe in a 1915 letter…

My maternal grandmother, who died when I was six, was a devoted lover of astronomy, having made that a speciality at Lapham Seminary, where she was educated; and though she never personally showed me the beauties of the skies, it is to her excellent but somewhat obsolete collection of astronomical books that I owe my affection for celestial science. Her copy of Burritt’s Geography of the Heavens is today the most prized volume in my library.

Robie’s Smithville Seminary was itself on a knoll, perhaps good enough for observing. But back in circa 1845-55 (before the building of the observatory), could Mr. Seagrave’s apparently excellent 342-feet high observing hill have also been one regularly visited by parties of local amateur astronomers — Robie among them?

On the little-considered ‘airplane novel’ genre

Having recently become enamoured of Kipling’s classic “With the Night Mail” and his Aerial Board of Control universe, I was interested to see that Quillette has a long new survey of the genre of the airplane novel. Exploring especially how it was blown off-course in response to terrorist events…

Gone are the days when aviator/authors such as Nevil Shute and Ernest K. Gann and Paul Beaty wrote about airplane travel as if it were an almost spiritual experience. That type of novel lost its hold on the public’s imagination when men […] began boarding airplanes with a nefarious purpose in mind. The golden age of hijacking only lasted from 1965–1972, but its impact on popular culture endures.

I’d add that Lovecraft’s “At the Mountains of Madness” might be considered to be, in part, among the ‘airplane tales’ of the 1930s. But there the ‘spiritual experience’ of height and far-sight is flipped into horror.

I guess, in a way, that the 1970s ‘turn’ in the genre then subtly opened a way for the nascent steampunk to offer a home for the old and vanished ‘romance of air-travel’. If only with dirigibles, zeppelins, balloons and personal ‘fliers’ of various kinds.

Also new on Archive.org. in a Loompanics book from the 1980s, the opposite. A chapter surveying the key examples of The Inner World in Fiction. ‘Inner World’ here meaning various non-horror ideas of subterranean realms under the earth.

Lovecraft’s first letter in its magazine context

Currently on eBay, H.P. Lovecraft’s first publication. In Scientific American for 25th of August 1906. In those days Scientific American was about science, not politics.

Interesting to note that this had a cover featuring the New Croton Dam (construction 1892-1906), given the later subject-matter of “The Colour out of Space”. The Dam and its vast lake gathered and sent the first out-of-city supply of water to New York City.

Lovecraft proposed a multi-observatory photographic method of discovering a planet beyond Neptune, at the edge of the solar system. He goes so far as to suggest, basic on his own cosmic observations, that a spot known to him at “50 units” out would be the place to start. The planet Pluto (yes, it is a planet) is sometimes at that distance, a textbook stating it…

averages 40 astronomical units from the Sun, but it ranges from 30 units to 50 units.

It might be interesting for the forthcoming book on Lovecraft’s astronomy to determine: i) when and how he was making the observations that led him to propose “50 units”; and ii) if Pluto was indeed at 50 units out at that time.