Lunch in New York: Tigers in Greenwich

In Letters to Family Lovecraft gives an actual address for an Italian cafe he frequented with Kirk during the Clinton St. period. The cafe offered not only delicious spaghetti and cheese and a very friendly Italian owner, but also long-time lap-service by two delightful ‘tiger’ kittens.

Greenwich Village, where at #17 (not #10!) Downing St we found the little returned tiger-kitty, who sat in Grandpa’s lap just as serenely as one of those Tilden and Thurber kitties during the entire meal of native Italian spaghetti — for which Kirk insisted on paying” (May 1925)

These kittens were an attraction mentioned on several visits, and it appears to have been a regular haunt. “Tilden and Thurber” is the Providence based Tilden-Thurber Co, Inc., at that time having “miniature kitties” as part of their range of kitsch giftware. Lovecraft’s aunt enquired if Kirk might like one.

Kirk & I take a perennial delight in two small tiger kittens in an Italian restaurant in Greenwich Village. They know us, & we each have one which we habitually hold. Kirk calls his Lucrezia Borgia [the infamous poisoner], & I call mine Giambattista Tintoretto [old name for the famous Baroque painter].

Loveman and Kleiner sometimes joined them there. Occasionally Lovecraft and Loveman dined there without Kirk, at a later point when there was a Loveman-Kirk feud. He states that “the Downing Street joint is weak” on the coffee, which was a drawback.

In September Kirk adopted one of the cafe’s kitties, to be delivered October, and we thus learn more of the place from Lovecraft…

… he is an orphaned waif, who strayed into Kirk’s favourite Downing Street restaurant just at the time when the old lady cat was nursing her own tiger brood. Madam Tabitha, in generous mood, added the forlorn mite to her household without the least hesitation … these Downing St. Italians cherish their felidae with an almost Egyptian tenderness which warms the heart! No kitten has ever been killed in that restaurant, but with each new brood a canvas of patrons is made with a view to providing homes. … the homes [have] been always forthcoming …

Kirk’s Diary shows he could not wait and Lovecraft’s letters reveal that he instead tried to adopt a purloined alley cat… “the darlingest kitten vot I’ve adopted … white mostly with a black tail” (Kirk), and he jokes about starting a cattery. This new alley-adoption quickly ran away. Kirk seems to have been ill-fated with cats. A year later, the cat he finally settled on was run over and killed by a car.

Kirk’s Diary does not, so far as I can tell from a quick re-read, take an interest in describing or naming the cheaper New York eatieries or their cuisine, and all we get is an occasional “lunched with so-and-so”.

Lovecraft calls the place an “Italian-ordinary”, presumably meaning it was a cheaper and more everyday Italian restaurant than several others he would visit with Sonia such as the Taormina. His regular everyday cafe near his room in Brooklyn he calls “The Tiffany” or “Tiffany Cafeteria” and it was evidently a place that young hoodlums and hardened gangsters would also frequent. He also frequents “John’s” near Willoughby St. for Sunday meals, on which more tomorrow. And he often calls at the nearby Scotch Bakery on the corner of Court St and Schermerhorn. With the “gang” there are sometimes art-world coffee places to hang out in, such as the ‘Double R’.

17 Downing Street clearly means the Greenwich Village street rather than the street of the same name in Brooklyn (near Fulton St.), since this is a Kirk eatery. A little later in his letters Lovecraft talks about exploring the slums section between “the 4th Avenue and Downing Street”, which would make sense for a night-time tour of Greenwich Village. At this time Kirk had a new shop at No. 97 Fourth Avenue (page 288) and “the 4th Avenue and Downing Street” area thus becomes a prime target of more explorations into Greenwich’s ancient alleyways and hoary courtyards with “the gang”.

As one can see here, Downing Street was not as salubrious as today…

No. 17 is the dark shopfront three doors along. The gigantic Locatelli ‘Italian cheese’ sign seen here would likely have existed in the mid 1920s and would have naturally attracted the attention of wanderers in the small hours. Especially Lovecraft, who adored his cheese.

[I] Like Italian cooking very much — especially spaghetti with meat and tomato sauce, utterly engulfed in a snowbank of grated Parmesan cheese.

Here we move a little closer. There appears to be a two-part junk shop adjoining No. 17, part storage garage / old clothes-rack and part a smaller and more secure junk shop with a show-window.

Here 17 is more central…

But there’s a problem… another photo from 1940s.nyc lets us read the shopfront lettering. No. 17 is labelled as “Cabinet Maker” in the front window, and of course that’s a natural adjunct to a junk shop. We can even see what appears to be new-made chairs stacked near the window.

My feeling is then the next door section is actually the cafe in the picture, which makes the cafe No. 19-21. It looks like one, though there is no sign visible.

What of his exclamation “(not #10!)”? Evidently he intends his aunt to visit without him, and is giving her the address and recommendation without actually needing to state he is doing so. She is quite familiar with Greenwich Village and capable of visiting it herself. One possible explanation might be that the cafe was indeed once small and cheap and located at #17, but some 15 years later (seen above) had found success and moved next door to larger premises.

But it is far more likely that there was a simple transcription error in the Lovecraft letter. “17” was actually written as “19”, in which case his comment “(not #10!)” suddenly makes a lot more sense. His “9” might look like “0”, and there was and is no “10” in the street. This actually seems the most likely explanation to me, at least without a palaeographic scrutiny of the original letter.

A 1925 Italian trade directory of New York has… “Prota, A. & Co., 19 Downing St., New York”, and another directory adds “importer of foodstuffs” as the trade and elsewhere distinguishes Brooklyn addresses with “Brooklyn”. Hence this is not the Brooklyn Downing St. Also in 1925, a “Fratelli Prota” is granted a patent for peeled canned tomatoes, on behalf of “Prota, Angelina & Co., doing business as Fratelli Prota”. Thus the Downing Street eatery is likely to have been “Fratelli’s” and owned by the Prota family.


Today the street is very gentrified, and as we see here No. 17 has a stylish new brick frontage (presumably unappealing to graffiti vandals and inimical to drug-dealer stickers). But No. 19 was, until recently, a discreet wine-bar… and it may still be so. It’s the red door. Nice to think that you might still eat in New York City where Lovecraft and his circle once ate.

Born under Saturn

Hippocampus is now listing, on the “New Books” page, H. P. Lovecraft: Letters to E. Hoffmann Price and Richard F. Searight. Seemingly shipping soon.

Also, my copy of the Lovecraft Annual 2020 had arrived, and a filler paragraph informs me of a new book of letters. I was aware of Eccentric, Impractical Devils: The Letters of August Derleth and Clark Ashton Smith, which appeared for Halloween 2020. I was not aware of its planned companion volume, Born under Saturn: The Letters of Clark Ashton Smith and Samuel Loveman. This is possibly because the book has not yet appeared, though the Annual anticipated it appearing in 2020.

Letters to Family – Romola / “fantastic cinema” / an unknown story?

More notes on insights gleaned from Letters to Family

* In 1925 Lovecraft adored a screen recreation of the Italian Renaissance, as seen in the Lillian Gish silent movie Romola (1924). He saw this in New York in August 1925, during his short New York story-writing period. He liked it mainly for the costumes, lavish on-location backdrops, Italian physiognomy, and the painstaking attention to historical detail, but felt the acting was merely “adequate”. Picture-play magazine also had a similar opinion, that “Romola is beautiful but dull”. The movie is now newly on Archive.org with English inter-titles and no music. It was previously only available there with Portuguese hard-coded inter-titles and generic silent-movie music. The English version has slightly better compression, but is obviously from the same print. On Amazon there is a streaming version and reviews deem it “unwatchable”, “one big blur” and the captions “unreadable” and “chopped off”. However, as usual, Amazon is misleading its customers and a little more digging finds that these reviews are for the old VHS tape Grapevine release. An Amazon bot has been allowed to idly copy the reviews over to the new page. The English Archive.org copy seems likely to be the best that can be had. With adjustments in VLC Media Player, and shrunk to about 5″ at tablet size, it is watchable and the titles can be read.


* Lovecraft also planned to see “a fantastic cinema” on the evening of 11th August 1925, the same day he wrote the story “He”. Both Loveman and Leeds were eager to see the movie with him, suggesting it had more than the usual appeal. But a broken morning ferry at Elizabethtown threw the movie plan into disarray. The movie is not named. Coming so soon before “The Call of Cthulhu”, if might have pushed him in another direction, and we would never had had “Cthulhu”. What could the movie have been? The British adaptation of She was not released in the USA until 1926. The Phantom of the Opera had not yet been released. Nor had the werewolf movie Wolfblood: A Tale of the Forest. It can’t have been The Unholy Three as that was not released until 16th August and was seen later without reference to a missed screening. Of 1924 movies, The Hands of Orlac was not released in the USA until 1928. The comedy-horror-melodrama The Monster is a possibility. The French Le fantome du Moulin-Rouge is another possibility, although it was also a comedy-horror. The German anthology movie Waxworks seems the most likely, which had seen a November 1924 release and could still have been running in New York.


* Lovecraft wrote “He” on 11th August 1925 (wrongly stated as 18th Aug in the Lovecraft Encyclopaedia timeline, though the entry itself is correct). But on the morning of Saturday 15th he returned to the same Elizabethtown park in which he had written “He”. There he outlined and began writing another tale…

I settled myself as on Tuesday in Scott Park — beginning a horror tale I had in mind. This I sketched out and began filling in when my labour was interrupted by the advent of one of those curious stranger-addressing characters whom one meets now and again […] He was interested in the weird material he found me writing”. (pages 350-51)

The old fellow turned out to be the nation’s leading expert on bison and their care, and they had a long and amiable chat about the shaggy beasts. Thus, Lovecraft had his very own ‘Porlock’. What was this interrupted and seemingly uncompleted tale? He had already written “Red Hook” and “He” and got down the gist of and plotted “Cthulhu”. “In the Vault” was not written until mid September 1925, and was anyway not a story he “had in mind” but was an idea suggested by Tryout editor Charles W. Smith.

The possibilities would be:

i) a first try at “Cool Air” (later written February 1926);
ii) a first try at “In the Vault” (if Smith had suggested the idea by then, it having been “sketched out” sometime in August);
iii) a first stab at part of “The Call of Cthulhu”;
iv) at this time Lovecraft talks in letters of his “Salem novel” or a novelette of “Salem Horrors”, though this was not yet written. Possibly related to the Commonplace Book‘s 1925 “Witches’ Hollow novel”, though this was obviously a school-story and thus a planned collaboration with Whitehead.

Can his telegraphic 1925 Diary throw light in the incident? He records an evening spent with Loveman at the insalubrious Tiffany cafe on the edge of Red Hook, haunt of gangsters and petty hoodlums, after which… “HPL stay[s] up to explore with pad & pencil”, which sounds like experimenting all night with story ideas. His Diary then makes no mention of the Porlockian stranger he met the following morning, and the entry for this time is simply…

… ferry to Stat. Isl. in dawn — across to Eliz Ferry — sunrise — Eliz[abethtown]

Despite it being a Saturday, on his return he was immediately plunged into an unexpected maelstrom of urgent work and complex logistics relating to his circle. Presumably the dawn tale was forgotten. So all in all it sounds to me like this was an experimental New York story arising from his “explor[ing] with pad & pencil”, a tale perhaps later mislaid or destroyed or folded into some other tale?

We perhaps get a glimpse of the tale in the Commonplace Book in the second half of 1925, with the items here slightly re-structured to make more of a modern-gnostic story outline…

A secret language spoken by a very few old men … Hideous world superimposed on visible world — gate through — power guides narrator to ancient and forbidden book with directions for access. … Someone or something cries in fright at sight of the rising moon, as if it were something strange. … Explorer enters strange land where some atmospheric quality darkens the sky to virtual blackness — marvels therein.

As such the November 1927 dream-fragment “The Book” may seem to connect with these 1925 ideas. However, note that Joshi is not convinced that there was no later Derlethian padding… “the latter portion of the text may not be Lovecraft’s at all: several sentences here are distinctly un-Lovecraftian in style.”

More from ‘Letters to Family’

More notes on insights gleaned from Letters to Family

* Lovecraft was a member of the Blue Pencil Club of Brooklyn, though perhaps not a paid-up one. He joined in July 1924 and anticipated paying his dues in due course. The membership had a cost, but Dench was a commercial opportunity-spotter and it was presumably good networking if rather humdrum in terms of the literary debate. Lovecraft was then in dire need of a regular job, following the disaster of Sonia quitting her well-paid job to start a (quickly failed) upmarket hat-shop, and then having her valuable client-list effectively stolen from her by subterfuge.

* Lovecraft’s correspondent and fellow amateur journalist Mrs. Renshaw was remarked on as being “high” in Republican women’s circles in Washington, which adds another small item of data on her.

* Lovecraft read Moby Dick and… far from hailing it as a existential masterpiece the tale seems to have only made him interested in the history of the old time whalers.

* Lovecraft’s Grandpa never lived to see him in long trousers. Since he died in 1904, this puts a marker on Lovecraft going into long trousers. Actually he elsewhere tells us exactly when the trousering happened, April 1904. He had his first suit in 1905.

* As a boy, his room at 598 was cut off from light and air by the side of a neighbouring house.

* Lovecraft evidently kept a “trunk” in the cellar at Clinton Street. A possible cue there for a new Mythos story.

* During one regional antiquarian trip he tripped and fell headlong down stairs into a dark colonial cellar, while carrying a black cat. This offers a rather mind-boggling opportunity for an artist to depict the moment.

* Lovecraft and Sonia saw the original ‘Zippy the Pinhead’ in a sideshow at Coney Island. This was not in the Luna Park section, as that section was only done on a similar visit a few weeks later.

* Lovecraft’s famous silhouette was not cut at Coney Island. E.J. Perry the cutter was working in the winter at the “Capitol Book Shop on Broadway near 51st St.” (page 309), and that was where Lovecraft and some of the Kalems first had theirs cut. Sonia did later have two silhouettes cut by Perry at his Coney Island stand (not Luna Park) with and without her hat. On the bookshop The New York Times, then a reputable paper and ‘the paper of record’, noted its name change from “Capital Book Shop, Manhattan to Capitol Book Shop” in its 26th June 1925 issue. But that doesn’t help, as the shop is now utterly obscure under either name or close variants. Which is strange, as it obviously gave Perry a reasonable trade in the winter.

* The somewhat shady Yesley-Leeds “publication” of 1925 sounds to me like it would have been a generic giveaway magazine, into which the sponsoring business would have its own flattering article and pictures centrally inserted. Lovecraft wrote a number of general articles for it, as did Long. Its nature is never explicitly spelled out for his aunt, nor is Yesley pictured.

* Prior to “copying some yarns” for submission to Weird Tales and starting the New York stories with “Red Hook”, he was considering writing tales with an Eastern, “Baghdad” setting. It would be interesting to speculate on how these might have turned out. Perhaps we glimpse something of these unwritten tales in “Under The Pyramids” (written after close study of a travel guide or two, and afternoons spent in the antiquities departments of the New York museums) and in Dream Quest.

Everett McNeil on children’s publishing in 1923

Lovecraft’s good friend and Kalem member Everett McNeil outlines the trials of getting published in the children’s market, in The New York Times Book Review (11th November 1923). This was back when The New York Times was a reputable paper, unlike today. The “elderly readers” of the article title appears to refer to ‘readers’ at magazines and publishing houses, editorial assistants who vetted submitted tales. He also has a dig at censorious acquisition librarians.

‘Picture postals’ from Lovecraft: springtime at Lincoln Woods

An early springtime theme for the ‘Picture Postals’ this week. Views from the Lincoln Woods that Lovecraft so enjoyed on warm days, taking his reading and writing bag to the large rock by the lake. You can see the rock in the distance here…

the Quinsnicket or Lincoln Woods region which I have haunted all my life.” — letter from Lovecraft to Clark Ashton Smith, 1933.

Here are more vintage pictures, newly colorised…

A closer view of the rock, across the lake.

A rock massing that might have evoked a feeling of ‘cyclopean ruins’.

And finally, here is ‘the Butterfly House’, also part of the park. Not a house for butterflies, but named for the curious iridescent wings shape made by the cut blocks on the facing at the side of the house. They are clearly visible here. This house is not the same as the nearby…

picturesque ivied ruins of an ancient mill which I knew in youth.

Related posts and additional pictures:

Lovecraft, outdoorsman.

Lincoln Woods.

Lincoln Woods explored as Lovecraft knew the place. This reveals that the Druid Circle stones as known today are not the same as they were in the 1920s. They were damaged by the “blasting and road work” of the 1930s New Deal work-parties.

Public domain in 2022

Who and what is entering the public domain early in 2022, for nations following the 70 year rule (author died in 1951)?

* Algernon Blackwood, author of the famous story “The Willows” etc. He needs no introduction here.

* Richard Malden, churchman and sometime writer of British ghost-stories. These are collected in the book Nine Ghosts (1942), and were said to have been written for his friend and fellow ghost-story writer M.R. James.

* Gelett Burgess, all-round American humourist and wit, novelist and nonsense poet at the cusp of modernism. Introduced Cubism to the American public with his article “The Wild Men of Paris”. Creator of the 1920s comic-strip infants ‘The Goops’, who had earlier appeared in his humorous books on infant manners. Produced books of parody such as The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne, and a mystery-detective book The Master of Mysteries: Being an Account of the Problems Solved By Astro, Seer of Secrets (1912), this being “a cycle of short mystery stories featuring an eccentric amateur sleuth” — said to be an Armenian con-man who reluctantly has to do good.

* Bernhard Kellerman, noted for the best-selling science-fiction novel of a transatlantic tunnel, Der Tunnel (1913). This being said to be set in an alternative future in which the First World War had not happened. Built to “promote world peace” the tunnel apparently precipitates war and a great recession. The book was said to be gripping despite its bitter ironies and was filmed four times (mostly very badly, apparently). Translated into English as The Tunnel (Macaulay and Co., 1915). He is said to have written many short stories, and some dime novels after he was effectively banned from publishing by the Nazis, and so it’s possible that some more of his work might also have been science-fiction?

* Abraham Cahan, founding editor of the Jewish Daily Forward. Novels and stories of Yiddish New York City at the turn of the century, in English, such as Yekl: A Tale of the New York Ghetto (1896, filmed as Hester Street) and the New York career tale The Rise of David Levinsky (1917).

* Lloyd Cassel Douglas, one of the most popular authors of his era, now best known for his ‘Jesus & disciples epics’ such as The Robe and The Big Fisherman. Also a writer of medical ‘doctor’s diary’ casebook novels, of a type once popular.

* Isabel C. Clarke, prolific Catholic novelist. Once very well-known, she now seems to be completely forgotten even by Catholics. Definitely ‘not a Tolkien’, it seems, as she stuck with domestic settings. But did produce several biographies of writers, including Haworth Parsonage: A Picture Of The Bronte Family. It’s not impossible that the latter could be the basis of a new graphic novel or movie.

* Peter Cheyney, once one of the richest British genre authors but now forgotten. Wrote best-selling “American style hard boiled” crime novels in the 1930s and 40s. Some of the plots might be usefully lifted into new science-fiction settings?

* Joseph Conrad’s Congo diaries that were the source for his Heart of Darkness. To be found in print in Last Essays, which it appears has somehow remained in copyright until 2022.

* J.C. Leyendecker, famous American cover-artist and leading designer for magazines. Handsome and gay, his life could make for a new costume-drama bio-pic, feature documentary, graphic novel etc — and presumably much of the art will now be public domain if it wasn’t already?

* Hermann Broch, Austrian novelist described as a “metaphysical realist”, apparently merging mathematics and mysticism. A trilogy of late post-war novels is also said to have explored the rise of German Nazism and depicted different ‘Nazi types’. There are apparently translations, but these are presumably not going into the public domain. Still, there may be short stories needing translation.

* The French writer Andre Gide, recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature. Though, for the Anglosphere, his work and letters will be in translation and these will not be going into the public domain. But he should be up for new unexpurgated translations. Some may also look to France in 1926, hoping it will lead to American public domain materials. But while Breton’s Surrealism and Painting and Aragon’s surrealist/psychogeographic Paris Peasant are both 1926, they were not translated and published in America at that time.

* Andrei Platonovich Platonov, an early writer of strange Russian science-fiction. Wrote a science-fiction trilogy in the 1920s, Descendants of the Sun, The Lunar Bomb, and Ethereal Trail. But he started to doubt the glorious socialist revolution, and a few years later his 15 year-old son was sent to what was effectively a death-camp and Platonov’s name was removed from the books on Communist literature. He continued to write “for the bottom drawer” but was hardly published except for some re-writes of folk-tales. His work does not seem to have been translated into English until fairly recently.


In the USA, works published and films released in 1926 will enter the public domain. Some of the authors below may well already be in the public domain.

* Spengler’s famous 1918 The Decline of the West… “appeared in its English edition in 1926” in both the USA and UK.

* Hugo Gernsback’s futuristic travel-tale novel Ralph 124C 41+: A Romance of the Year 2660 (1926 in book form). “Can be defended as the most important science-fiction novel ever written”, for encapsulating and launching an entire pulp genre (Gary Westfahl, The Mechanics of Wonder: The Creation of the Idea of Science Fiction). Seems most likely to become a full-cast audio adaptation, with sound FX?

* T.E. Lawrence’s Seven Pillars of Wisdom. The famously lucid autobiography of desert warfare, later beautifully filmed as Lawrence of Arabia. It’s difficult to see how a graphic novel version or movie remake might compete against David Lean’s masterpiece. But Lawrence died 1935, so it must already be public domain.

* Ronald Firbank’s Concerning the Eccentricities of Cardinal Pirelli, said to be a posthumously published satiric Wildean comedy, of camp libidinous priests and cardinals with predilections for winsome choristers. Might make for a wild Joe Orton / Ronald Searle / Terry Gilliam -style animation?

* Edna Ferber’s 1926 novel Show Boat… “chronicles the lives of three generations of performers on the Cotton Blossom, a floating theatre on a steamboat that travels between small towns along the banks of the Mississippi River, from the 1880s to the 1920s.” Became a Broadway musical theatre hit. Possibly the property with the most TV mini-series potential, but it would be expensive to do in full costume, with boats and landscapes. Political correctness would probably now make it impossible to get the idea past producers, anyway.

* John Metcalfe’s weird collection The Smoking Leg, and other stories (1925). The 1926 U.S. first edition should put it in the public domain in the USA in 2022. In it Lovecraft especially admired the tale “The Bad Lands”.

* The highly acclaimed biography Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years.

* Honor Willsie Morrow, Splendid Journey. Best-selling stark and epic novel. Published as an adult book, but then taken up in a big way by what publishers would now term ‘young adults’. The story of a thirteen year old lad on the Oregon Trail, drawing on many old letters and reminiscences of a real party of children crossing America in the 1860s. Has obvious potential for adaptations or, for fewer problems with political correctness, translation into genres such as fantasy or science-fiction.

* “The Cowboy and His Interpreters, which appeared in 1926, has been a standard reference for nearly three decades” (from The American cowboy: the myth & the reality, 1955).

* Letters from a Roman Gentleman, being the selected and translated letters of Cicero in one volume, published by the University of California. Latin Notes called it “delightful” in 1927. Seems to have audiobook potential.

* The best-selling non-specialist Story of Philosophy, being… “a brilliant and concise account of the lives and ideas of the great philosophers”. Approachable chapters on Friedrich Nietzsche and George Santayana may make the book of interest to philosophic Lovecraftians. The revised second edition of 1933 will not be public domain.

* “S.L. MacGregor Mathers’ translation of The Kabbalah from the Hebrew originally appeared in 1926″.

* Graham Wallas published The Art of Thought, a well-regarded book on creativity and the creative process.

* Vita Sackville-West’s book The Land, an epic narrative poem of the British landscape, seasons and history. The ‘book-length poem’ format is not at all to modern tastes, but it could well make for an abridged graphic novel or radio adaptation.

* Carl Van Vechten’s breakthrough novel Trigger Heaven, about black life in Harlem in the early-mid 1920s. The Bookman said it did not “preach” but termed it “gaudy”, with its cast of characters being deemed a rather inauthentic mix of “blackface” and “whitewash”.

* The romantic ’90s by Richard Le Gallienne. A brisk and vivid survey of the decadents of the 1890s, and a book published on both sides of the Atlantic. Many of the writers and artists were or had been his friends.

* The Catholic writer Achmed Abdullah’s The Year of the Wood-Dragon (1926). “An American boy’s adventures on a journey into the interior of Tibet.” He was the screenplay writer for The Thief of Bagdad.

* Abraham Merritt’s 1926 book version of his 1924 The Ship of Ishtar, and Ships. Apparently a rip-roaring supernatural fantasy, that sold well and later influenced early D&D.

* Arthur Conan Doyle’s late novel The Land of Mist. Apparently a rather morbid pro-spiritualism novel, which only used his Professor Challenger character in places. His two-volume The History of Spiritualism appeared the same year. By this time Doyle was quite literally ‘away with the fairies’.

* Stanley Unwin’s The Truth about Publishing. “A fascinating insight into the problems, perils and delights of publishing books.” It went through eight editions. Could make for an engaging and bookish non-fiction graphic novel, if the subject matter is still relevant.

* Two biographical Poe books appeared in 1926, one “unscholarly and poorly organised” with little new information, and one an armchair “attempt at Freudian analysis”. Though, at the time of publication, Lovecraft found them useful as on-the-ground guidebooks to finding little-known Poe places.

* An insight into the Lovecraft era of astronomy, with Harlow Shapley’s Starlight, a ‘popular science’ book, and also Florence Armstrong Grondal’s more poetic Music of the Spheres: A Nature Lover’s Astronomy. Both entering the public domain in the USA.

* Joseph Pennell’s Pictures of Philadelphia. See Lovecraft’s Letters to Family, re: his long visit there. 64 lithographs, could be paired with Lovecraft’s text.

* Anne of Green Gables author Lucy Maud Montgomery’s The Blue Castle (1926) one of her two novels meant for adults. About an old maid in Canada who finds escape via literature and… “soon her daydreams about the Blue Castle turn into reality”.

* The Boy Through the Ages, a well-researched book on the daily life of boys from early times to the 19th century, cheerfully written for boys. British but appears to have had a New York edition variously listed as being published by “Doubleday Doran and Co.” or “George H. Doran” in 1926.

* The Velveteen Rabbit, a best-selling young children’s story book of 1926, published on both side of the Atlantic. Now very rare in original editions though, due to being extremely collectable. The same author also wrote the werewolf novel The Thing in the Woods under a pen-name.

* Felix Salten’s Bambi, A Life in the Woods.

* Enid Blyton’s Book of Brownies skips into the public domain in the USA. Brownies here being an old British word for ‘pixies’.

* “Bomba the Jungle Boy, published in 1926″ and popular then. Pulp or thereabouts, said to be “not unlike a youthful Tarzan”.

* Everything in Weird Tales for 1926. Inc. “The City of Spiders” by H. Warner Munn. Said to be “one of the best tales of giant spiders ever written” and thus a possible front story for a new anthology of such. His “The Werewolf of Ponkert” (1925) went into the public domain last year, and its 1927 companion will go in January 2023, “The Werewolf’s Daughter” (1928) following in 2024. His various related “Werewolf Clan” tales will then go over the following few years.

* Kipling’s penultimate collection of stories and poems, Debits and Credits. Kingsley Amis remarked of it… “some self-indulgent fantasy, some exercises in the supernatural … three good stories.”

* “In an interview published in Collier’s magazine in 1926, Nikola Tesla, then in the twilight of his career, made some predictions about the future”. Depending on the verbosity, it might be the basis for an interesting 45-minute radio-play?

* Personae: The Collected Poems of Ezra Pound, published in New York in 1926. This was… “his personal choice of all the poems he wished to keep in print other than some translations and his Cantos.”

* Lovecraft’s fellow writer and poet Hart Crane apparently sees his first collection, White Buildings, enter the public domain in the USA.

* Fowler’s Dictionary of Modern English Usage… “first appeared in 1926”. Though possibly not in the USA?

* The three volume 1926 Supplement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

* And of course the original Winnie the Pooh book, the title that will be endlessly parroted by journalists come January 2022. I’d expect that Disney has kept some kind of lock on its own cartoon depiction of the famous bear, and probably also trademarks in relation to how the character names are presented — so it’s not a Pooh free-for-all. But expect things like “Pooh-thlu” or “Poohthulhu” mash-ups mixing Pooh and Cthulhu.


* In music, H.P. Lovecraft’s favourite barbershop song of 1904, “Sweet Adeline” sung by The Haydn Quartet, also comes out of copyright in 2022 due to a 1951 death. I’ll get in first with a “Sweet Azathoth” version…

Sweet Azathoth,
My Azathoth,
At night, drear heart,
For you I pine.
In all my dreams,
Your cosmic beams.
You’re the idiot of my heart,
Sweet Azathoth. (My Azathoth.)

Also certain Caruso opera recordings, in the USA.


In movies, some of the key 1926 movies are:

Douglas Fairbanks’s The Black Pirate.
Buster Keaton’s The General.
Mary Pickford’s Sparrows.
Rudolph Valentino’s The Son of the Sheikh.
The German Faust.

I’m uncertain if Lotte Reiniger’s debut The Adventures of Prince Achmed was released in America in 1926. As a feature-length animation (then an unfamiliar form) it apparently had a troubled distribution history even in Germany.


Canada and South Africa and other nations which follow the 50 year rule (author died in 1971) get…

* C. M. Eddy, Lovecraft’s Providence friend and collaborator.
* August Derleth.
* John Wood Campbell Jr. (science-fiction author, famous editor of Analog).
* S. Foster Damon (William Blake expert).
* Virgil Finlay, the key early Lovecraft illustrator.

So Canadians get to re-write and tighten Derleth’s mythos with all the dross taken out, if they want.

On the earliest use of “weird fiction”

The earliest use of the term “weird fiction” I can find is in the Australian Journal, 1872, said of a ghostly oral tale of the outback…

Interestingly the headless horseman of British lore was here transformed by the Australians from a fearsome spectre into an aloof guardian, or so it might seem.

The term moves into literary use with The Library Table, 1878, used of Gaboriau-esque detective mysteries set in the dank and decaying pre-Haussmann city of Paris…

1879, from a survey of The Homes of America, said in passing of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow tales of Washington Irving…

In summer 1894 there appears a well-reviewed anthology of the “weirdest Oriental stories” … “weird literature of the East”, as retold by aficionado Lafcadio Hearn.

The genre is now well known if diffuse, and in 1892 the Mormon Young Woman’s Journal takes care to distinguish children’s fairy stories from “weird literature”.

The first journalistic use that can be found, by a book reviewer using it in the modern sense we would recognise today, is from 1894. From Philadelphia, Lippincott’s Monthly, November 1894, “Book Notes”. This credits Poe as the inventor, but also notes the German influence…

Evidently we are not talking here about folk tales, fairy stories, ghost stories, Oriental stories or early Parisian detectives. The fine evocation of atmosphere is a key element, and this implies a readership willing and able to savour it rather than rush ahead to the next penny-dreadful ‘shock’.

Can anyone beat 1894, with the term used in the modern sense?

There was probably then some throwback of the term, using to ‘net’ earlier fiction that might have once been classified differently. Here, for instance is “weird fiction” in popular newspaper use in February 1905 in Canada, by a literary critic remarking on an aspect of the famous Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886). The clever editor has run a suitable but unrelated cartoon next to the article.