Penumbra #1 in ebook

I see that the first issue of S. T. Joshi’s new journal Penumbra: A Journal of Weird Fiction and Criticism is now available on Amazon as an affordable £4.65 ebook for download. Even if you don’t care to add yet more fiction to your tottering reading-pile, there are also enough non-fiction pieces to find something of interest for your fivver. Such as…

* The Cosmic Scale of Elfland.

* The Idea of the North in the Fiction of Simon Strantzas.

* Finding Sherlock Holmes in Weird Fiction.

* “The Weird Dominions of the Infinite”: Edgar Allan Poe and the Scientific Gothic.

Fly me to the moon…

In his boyhood article “Can the Moon Be Reached by Man” (October 1906) H.P. Lovecraft opens with the observation that…

In 1649 a Frenchman named Jean Baudoin published a book entitled: A Trip from the Earth to the Moon.

The footnotes in Collected Essays reveals that this was actually a translation of a book by the Englishman Francis Godwin (1562-1633). Though it does not seem likely the boy Lovecraft had yet read either Godwin or Baudoin, since I have found that he was likely borrowing his opening fact from Jules Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon. In Chapter II of this novel Verne has a French speaker addresses the Gun Club in Baltimore, reminding them of various great French ‘firsts’ in the field…

Permit me,” he continued, “to recount to you briefly how certain ardent spirits, starting on imaginary journeys, have penetrated the secrets of our satellite. In the seventeenth century a certain David Fabricius boasted of having seen with his own eyes the inhabitants of the moon. In 1649 a Frenchman, one Jean Baudoin, published a “Journey performed from the Earth to the Moon. At the same period Cyrano de Bergerac published that celebrated ‘Journeys in the Moon’ which met with such success in France.”.

We know that Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon was in Lovecraft’s library in book form. But the young Lovecraft was presumably unaware, in 1906, that Verne had conveniently omitted to inform readers that the work was a translation from the Englishman Francis Godwin (1562-1633, possibly the great uncle of the writer Jonathan Swift). Nor is the reader told that Bergerac, also lauded by Verne’s orator, had actually been parodying the English Godwin. Had Lovecraft known of the English author or the Swift connection in 1906, then he would surely have been mentioned these facts. In his Anglophile fervour he might even have upbraided Verne for his cheek. Not that it would have mattered much to most readers of the Pawtuxet Valley Gleaner, of course.

Godwin had been the Bishop of Hereford at the time he wrote the book circa the 1620s, the tale of a fantastical voyage to the Moon titled The Man in the Moone: or A Discourse of a Voyage Thither. Godwin’s tale was published posthumously in 1638, and tells off a voyage accomplished by the man being carried to the Moon by a flock of powerful one-footed swans (not geese, as one modern encyclopaedia wrongly has it). One might think that his sounds somewhat similar to the dream-leap to the Moon that Carter experiences in Lovecraft’s “Dream Quest”, …

Verily, it is to the moon’s dark side that they go to leap and gambol on the hills and converse with ancient shadows […] upon a signal, the cats all leaped gracefully with their friend packed securely in their midst

This method of flight is also broadly similar to Godwin, in its distributive aspect. Godwin has his hero invent a mechanical device that evenly distributes his weight among the especially powerful swans.

Thus it seems worth asking if Lovecraft happened upon Francis Godwin during his intensive New York research for Supernatural Literature? Or perhaps in his conversations with the members of his New York circle who we know where collecting and reading early science-fiction? If so, the discovery would be conveniently timed, re: the writing of “Dream Quest”. But the publication dates do not fit. The first modern edition of Godwin’s Moone was in 1937, just before Lovecraft’s death. He may have known of it, as it was not only known among cloistered academics but also covered by popular articles such as the one in Flying Magazine (dated February 1937, and likely appearing on the newstands earlier). There had also been a long review-article in 1931 (“Bishop Godwin’s Man in the Moone“, Review of English Studies), which may well have become known to his circle — but again this was far too late to have influenced “Dream Quest” and its visit to the Moon.

However, my feeling is that he would have been encountered references earlier via his study of his favourite poet Samuel Butler. For instance, the author of the Poetical Works of Samuel Butler footnotes an allusion in Hudibras as relating to… “Bishop Godwin … getting to the Moon upon ganzas or wild swans”. Lovecraft knew Samuel Butler well and had “ploughed through” even the toughest of his poems, and his Hudibras was a special favourite. Lovecraft owned the extensively footnoted 1864 edition of this large and allusive work. The 1864 edition’s annotator does not actually name “swans” in this case, but he refers to the Bishop and his ganzas (a fictional super-powerful breed of swan) on page 286…

There is also the more general theory, lightly held my many learned men until the 17th century, that many types of birds migrated to the Moon in winter. Again, this was the sort of early proto-scientific theory that Lovecraft would have been aware of. As for finding cats on the Moon, as in Dream-quest, the 12 year old Lovecraft already delighted in the idea of other nearby worlds populated by his beloved cats, and so this seems to have been his original idea, part whimsy and part science — the idea of creatures on Venus or Mars was then still a topic on which reputable scientists could speculate in the press.

Fossil #386

A new January 2021 issue of The Fossil, free and available now in PDF. In the long lead article David Goudsward goes in search of “The Other Miniter” and discovers a trove of information about the pre-Lovecraft life of Mrs. Miniter. As Miniter-expert Ken Faig writes elsewhere in the issue…

“indefatigable literary detective and Fossil David Goudsward has shed some much ­needed light on Edith’s husband John Miniter.”

Hongos de Yuggoth

In the Spanish newspaper El Mundo, another appreciation of the recent translation of Lovecraft’s Hongos de Yuggoth

This long cycle of thirty poems is translated by the brilliant poet Garcia Roman, who immerses us in the essence of Lovecraft’s work: he gnaws to the bone-marrow of Lovecraft’s hard poetic narratives, rushes with the same relentless energy to the ends of dark corridors, dives into the darkling depths or soars away into carnivorous sunsets. … But we can never discover the answer [in such poems], because the final horror has no name…

New documentary on Rosaleen Norton

Newly released, a new feature documentary about the Australian Rosaleen Norton, The Witch of King’s Cross. It appears to have been made from a wide-eyed occultist perspective…

“Allegations of satanic rituals, obscene art and sex orgies in 1950s Sydney. Inspired by the work of Aleister Crowley, bohemian artist Rosaleen Norton…”

Before that mumbo-jumbo the young Norton was a possible Lovecraft correspondent, and certainly a far-flung acolyte. At age 15 in 1934 she wrote and published three tales that tried to closely mimic the master, but nothing thereafter. One of these tales echoed the lost 1907 Lovecraft story “The Picture”, and we know Lovecraft would send this story as ‘a re-write test’ to promising young writers such as Bloch. See my 4,000-word essay on the possibilities, in my book Historical Context #4.

‘Picture Postals’ from Lovecraft: the Courthouse

This week, another in the long series of posts that have investigated Lovecraft’s College St. I was going to hold off from posting pictures of the Courthouse Buildings at the foot of College St., Providence. Partly because it doesn’t seem the most exciting place in the world, and he may well never have set foot in it. But also because I was still unsure of what exact routes Lovecraft habitually took from the hill to the city-centre. Even when he lived in College St., was it a regular sight for him? Some scholars say he walked into town one way, some another.

But then I read Lovecraft commenting on the old courtyard at the back of the buildings a little down from the Courthouse, in the new Letters to Family books. His aunts had both sent a fine drawing of this courtyard, cut from a local newspaper or magazine (see my earlier blog post on this courtyard). Lovecraft then remarked, in 1924, that he had climbed up the hill that way “thousands” of times. And this was before he even lived at No. 66, a little further up the hill.

Thus, while he may well have descended from College Hill into the commercial district by a different route (longer and more scenic, perhaps varying by season) and thus avoided the very foot of College St., it sounds to me like he often returned up the hill by the shortest and most direct way. That would be logical, if he were returning carrying groceries and library books.

He would thus have been walking on the side of the street opposite the Courthouse, and had a good view of the building across the relatively quiet street intersection. His side was the obvious side of College St. to choose to walk on, as it would avoid Brown University students. By tradition the students were supposed to go up and down the hill on the Courthouse side of the street, so as to give the other side to residents. He would also avoid tripping over any undesirables that might be loafing on or milling around the Courthouse steps. Thus, the building would have presented itself to him as a fine landmark on his starting to ascend the hill and return home, whatever he may have thought about its architectural merits.

Here are some indicative views of the exterior. First we see the wider context. The ascent of College Hill is ahead, and the Courthouse a little way up on the right of the picture. The date is 1905, but it was fundamentally unchanged for several more decades.

Now the camera is sited a little way up College Street and the cameraman looks across at the Courthouse frontage from a side-street. College St. runs across the picture from left to right.

Here we see why the above ethereal picture was made in winter. In summer the same view was obscured by trees, as you can see in the picture below — which also provides the best glimpse of the slanted louver-boards on the belfry pinnacle. More on those later.

An artist has no such problem with foliage, and can artfully restrain the trees. Below is Henry J. Peck’s pen-study of the Courthouse frontage, before 1927 and most likely 1924-26. There is now apparently a need for a litter-bin (trash-bin) on the corner, although it might be an American post-box (Post Office mailing-box) of a type unknown to me.

In the end I needn’t have worried about if he actually habitually observed the building as he walked up and down College St., or if he came back up from the commercial district in such a way as to approach it face-on. Because it turns out that at No. 66 he saw it every day, or at least an evocative bit of it. The Courthouse appears briefly in Lovecraft’s late tale “The Haunter of the Dark”…

At sunset he would often sit at his desk and gaze dreamily off at the outspread west — the dark towers of Memorial Hall just below, the Georgian court-house belfry, the lofty pinnacles of the downtown section, and that shimmering, spire-crowned mound in the distance whose unknown streets and labyrinthine gables so potently provoked his fancy.

Thus the belfry structure must have been visible from the windows of his room at 66 College Street, and it can plausibly be said to have helped inspire a key setting in “The Haunter of the Dark”…

the black tower” with “the smoke-grimed louver-boarding

Possibly more of the Courthouse tower could be seen from up in the monitor-roof attic of his house at No. 66, which had a thin line of windows and an old west-facing door to the exterior roof-space. This door was opened for Lovecraft by Brobst, who found a way to spring the intricate locking mechanism that held fast the cobwebbed door.

New book: Old World Footprints

There’s a new David Goudsward publication. He has made Old World Footprints available again in a new Kindle ebook edition at a modest price.

In 1928, Mrs. William B. Symmes gave her family and friends 300 copies of her 32-page travelogue. The book’s printer was amateur pressman W. Paul Cook … Mrs. Symmes’ nephew, Frank Belknap Long is credited for the preface, actually ghostwritten by H. P. Lovecraft. Lovecraft proofread the book for Cook, and may have edited it as well.

The work is a very minor footnote in Lovecraft’s life and writing. But many will still welcome this new edition which is annotated and has photos.

It’s presented in 58 pages. I’m uncertain what “revised” means. The Amazon listing has it that it’s a “Print Replica” and “revised”. My guess is that “revised” may mean that errors of fact may have been corrected via the annotations? Or perhaps it’s just an Amazon thing, a way to get a clean listing so that Amazon’s idiot-bots don’t confuse it with the original?

Lovecraft’s ghost-written preface can also be found in Collected Essays of H.P. Lovecraft, Volume 5: Philosophy; Autobiography. David Goudsward’s article “Cassie Symmes: Inadvertent Lovecraftian” was in The Fossil, April 2017, and presumably the new book builds on this and provides the definitive version of it.

Marvells of Science

Neale Monks has a nicely written and fair-minded new review of Collected Essays Volume 3: Science for SFcrowsnest.

Joshi has done a tremendous job here editing the various essays, letters, articles and manuscripts. … Overall, this is a fabulous book that opens a whole new side of Lovecraft that will be unfamiliar to most of his fans. His non-fiction writing is succinct, clear and easy to follow …. As a science writer, it’d be easy to dismiss him as a gentleman amateur, but that’s not at all the impression you get … Rather, he’s a man who may be largely self-taught but uses scientific instruments to collect data, takes copious notes and reads as widely as he can to keep up with current thinking.