“A Bit Of The Dark World” in audio

For the 500th episode of Pseudopod, a complete audio reading of Fritz Leiber’s story “A Bit Of The Dark World” (Fantastic, February 1962). He had written some early stories that drew somewhat on Lovecraft, back in the 1930s and 40s, but without pastiching the master. Today I think of him as a sword & sorcery author linked with the post-Howard Conan series, but here the mature Leiber attempts a tale of cosmic horror fit for the know-it-all world of the early 1960s.

Leiber had been musing about the nature of writing in changing times for some years, such as in his rip-roaring sci-fi comedy-satire “The Silver Eggheads” (1959, expanded as a novel in 1962). This features an A.I. science fiction setting in which ‘novel writers’ are machines with names such as the ‘Fiction House Fantasizer’ with Fingertip Credibility Control!). It’s also a little Lovecrafty, as it riffs on the idea of still-living “genetically-enhanced brains taken from the skulls of once-living writers”.

Sadly there’s no audiobook version of what appears to be a sci-fi comedy classic, and the OCR on the 1959 novelette version at Archive.org isn’t good enough for text-to-speech. Though the novel is, at least, newly available for the Kindle.

Lovecraft Country

Here’s an elegant map, which might make a useful folded bookmark or paste-in for Lovecraft scholars. Especially those reading through the ever-increasing number of shelf-strainers that contain Lovecraft’s Letters and Essays, and who are trying to follow the old gent as he zig-zags through the coastal summerlands and backwaters of New England to alight on the doorsteps of fellow amateurs, correspondents and antiquarian museums. The map is from the 1922 edition of The geography of New England.

300dpi, in a 3Mb .jpg file. It’s not a fold-out, so there’s not much I could do about the gutter when aligning the two pages in Photoshop.

Also useful, for following Lovecraft’s more local walks into the city-centre, is a 1907 street-map of central Providence. Hand-drawn by a local, it was intended for use as part of a city-wide ‘open day’. As such it shows the hopping off points for the tram lines that Lovecraft would have used to get out and about, and it usefully highlights and has a fine-grained local awareness of which stores and buildings are worthy of notice. Again, there was not much I could do about the map’s gutter, as it wasn’t a fold-out map.

Lovecraft’s essays – in Spanish

Lovecraft’s essays are now available in a new Spanish translation by Oscar Mariscal, as the book Confesiones de un incredulo: y otros ensayos escogidos (El Paseo, Oct 2018). The publisher’s blurb states that the works have previously been untranslated in Spanish, and also hints that the Letters were drawn on for their essay-like material. The translator’s selection is followed by a tabulation of the stories that Lovecraft noted or remarked on in his works and letters. Amazon Spain suggests the book has 300 pages, but the publisher suggests 240 pages.

A new Lovecraft poem?

I think I may have found another new poem by Lovecraft. Not a macabre one this time, but rather a bit of early juvenilia. It’s the “Fore-worde” to his Hope Street High School yearbook for summer 1907, The Blue & White.

This “Fore-worde” is a poem of suspiciously archaic language, and also has a characteristic Lovecraft touch in the coining of the neo-archaism “strange-froughte”. Who else but Lovecraft would write such a poem in the style of an ancient wit, or insert such a phrase?

Neither the title or first line of the poem is in the latest edition of The Ancient Track. Nor is it in the Ancient Track‘s “Chronology”.

If the poem is a very early one by Lovecraft then it’s also interesting for implying that the author was on “ye humbell Boarde of Editours” in early summer 1907, which then leads one to wonder if he influenced the design on the cover. In which the tentacular flame seems to evoke (if you look at it right) a rather Lovecraftian version of a jinn to accompany the surrounding Aladdin’s lamps. If one knows that Lovecraft wore glasses at this time, the central ‘face’ could almost be a self-portrait.

Obtaining a full copy of the Yearbook would show if Lovecraft was on the “Boarde of Editours” for 1907. If he wasn’t, then the poem would be less likely to have been written by him.

He also appears as “H.P.L.” in the text of a humorous playlet in the Yearbook, titled a “Merry Drama of Hope”. At the plangent end of which he might be trying, in vain, to interest a passing fresher in the concept of meteoritic flight-paths…


Act IV, Scene 1.

The Corridor after school (snatches of conversation heard.)

[…]

“H. P. L. (Sophomorite:) “Well, the only definite theory advanced as to the cause of the meteoric path being hyperbolic or elliptic, is —”

Giddy Freshite (giggling hysterically:) “— And then he said —”

    (Corridor gradually becomes vacant)


Lovecraft was a freshman (fresher) at Hope Street High in 1904-05, but left in November 1905 and did not return until September 1906. He formally left on 10th June 1908, without a High School diploma — as he had only taken a few full classes in his final year.

According to a comment by Chris Perridas there may be a photo of Lovecraft in the next yearbook, 1908. But Chris had not been able to see either 1907 or 1908, and they’re still not scanned and online. Possibly it’s a photo that’s already well-known, though there’s nothing from 1908 here.

The small page-scans above are from a long-lost eBay listing, the data for which was snagged and kept online (just about) by a Web traffic-funnelling autobot.


Lovecraft’s pocket spectroscope

A… “pocket spectroscope, which was the delight of my fellow students at H.S.H.S. [Hope Street High School, Providence]. It is unbelievably tiny — will go into a vest pocket without making much of a bulge — yet gives a neat, bright little spectrum, with clear Frauenhofer lines when directed at sunlight. Many are the times I have passed it around at school.” — Lovecraft, letter to Galpin, 29th August 1918.

He had the device for weather and possibly also his astronomy, as such a thing appears to have been specifically used in star-identification. The light of a star would split into a distinctive banding of lines, and thus the identity of an unknown observed star could be confirmed. Although possibly his was not powerful enough to split the light of a distant star. He did have a larger $15 spectroscope in his weather station though.

Note the conjunction here of: unknown | colour | space, in relation to a story like “The Colour out of Space”.

Prop it up!

The Museum of Science Fiction invites your replica props, for their “Prop it up!” competition. Entries will be judged to movie-studio standards…

“across a variety of criteria including crafting skill, materials, and accuracy to the presented design. Finalists will be selected based on photographs and illustrated concept art submitted by email.”

Keep in mind that it appears the prop must be an accurate replica of a used movie prop (Conan’s sword, etc), and not some Lovecraftian idol that’s never been seen on the screen before. Deadline is 15th April 2019.

Spicy Armadillo Stories

Inspired by the excellence of Sam Moskowitz’s boots-on-the-ground 1964 biographical article on Virgil Finlay, mentioned here in an earlier post, I went looking to see if he had collected more such articles on artists into a book. It seems not, but Archive.org has the 1974 reprint of his earlier Immortal Storm: A History of Science Fiction Fandom (1954).

Also noted, the last issue of Spicy Armadillo Stories #7 (August 1992), themed “How the Pulps Worked”. Includes “Teaching Pulp Magazine Writing” by Sam Moskowitz. Seems to be totally unavailable today, but a $3 Kindle edition might get some interest re: the growing interest in the pulps among business historians.

There’s a more recent collection on how the pulps worked, albeit only from the point of view of the writers and probably mostly talking about story mechanics. The Penny-a-Word Brigade (2017) is from the makers of The Blood ‘n’ Thunder Guide to Pulp Fiction (2018, revised edition).

Hideous Creatures: A Bestiary of the Cthulhu Mythos

Currently printing and now on pre-order, Hideous Creatures: A Bestiary of the Cthulhu Mythos. Only 31 monsters, from Derleth and others as well as from Lovecraft, so it’s definitely not a cosmos-spanning encyclopaedia. However it’s apparently been in development for years and runs to 352 sumptuous hardback pages. Likely to be heavily illustrated and deeply informative about each monster, as apparently it dovetails with the Gumshoe-based Trail of Cthulhu tabletop RPG system. Since it’s for gamers there will also be a PDF download, albeit an expensive one.

Mentioned here because such in-depth books can be useful for writers, as well as for gamers.

Cthulhu in New Zealand?

Oh gawd, yet another themed Mythos anthology. This time, Cthulhu visits New Zealand. Thankfully for New Zealand’s forests he only does so for 200 pages, not the usual 600 pages. Even so… who reads these things, other than the authors and their buddies and the occasional obliged reviewer?

Coming soon… bumping along the bottom with “Lustcraftian Horrors: Erotic Stories Inspired by H. P. Lovecraft”. Seriously — the call for that anthology is out now.

Personally, hem hem, I’m hoarding my story-plots and awaiting the “H.P. Hovercraft vs. H.P Lovercat” anthology, devoted to Mythos stories set on a fleet of 1970s British hovercraft, which do battle in the middle of the English Channel with a giant tom-cat which displays amorous intentions toward dear old Blighty.

Lovecraft’s Unused Monsters, Cultists and Story-Settings: No.1 – The Pigeon Flyers

It would be interesting to have, at some point, a book titled something like Lovecraft’s Unused Monsters, Cultists and Story-Settings. It would be a sort of expansion of the Commonplace Book, in which the complete letters are scoured for unused monsters, cultists, and glints of story ideas and settings. Doubtless Derleth once trod the same path, and others after him, but it might be nice to see all the possibilities that he mined stripped back to their Lovecraft originals, neatly organised and with the sources given and correlated.

In the meantime, here’s the first in what may be a very occasional series on this blog:


Lovecraft’s Unused Monsters, Cultists and Story-Settings:

Name: The Pigeon Flyers.
Appearance: Appear to be sinisterly beautiful pigeon-breeding youths.
Status: Messengers who serve “obscene, amorphous serpent-gods” on Thog, dark moon of Yuggoth.
Location: Rooftops of tenements in Hell’s Kitchen, New York City.
Time: Early 1920s.

In the early 1920s H.P. Lovecraft took his first tour of the notorious Hell’s Kitchen in New York City, in the company of its reluctant resident Everett McNeil. Lovecraft was especially struck by the pigeon-flyers of this tough Irish neighbourhood, with their pigeon-lofts perched high on filth-spattered tenement roofs…

… sinister pigeon-breeders on filth-choked roofs sending birds of space out into black unknown gulfs with unrepeatable messages to the obscene, amorphous serpent-gods thereof

The idea was used by Lovecraft, though only in the “The Pigeon Flyers” (Fungi From Yuggoth). Since “The Pigeon Flyers” is an obvious inversion of Genesis 8:11 (“And the dove came in to him in the evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth”), one wonders if Lovecraft also knew that Biblical law forbade a class of people called the ‘pigeon flyers’ from giving testimony. Had he once mused on how he might tie this nugget of historical fact about an unspeakable group, with a supernatural slant on the common idea of the birds as being message-carriers?

Lovecraft revisited a similar Bible-invoking theme, of a flock of birds seeking the wide waters for a now-sunken homeland, in his Fungi poem “Nostalgia” (c. 1930?).

It might be casually assumed that Lovecraft’s use of “sinister” in “The Pigeon Flyers” implies wizened or even wizardly old men. But, in a 1930 letter to Derleth, Lovecraft specified that the ‘pigeon flyers’ of Hell’s Kitchen in the early 1920s were youths and not the tobacco-marinated old men that we today associate with the sport. Lovecraft elsewhere refers to the “cherubic blond youths” of Hell’s Kitchen (Letters from New York, page 30) and their two chief activities of pigeon-breeding and building bonfires. Thus, in a fictional use, their “sinister” aspect would have likely been their preternatural beauty set amid the ammonium stenches and squalor of the pigeon-lofts. That they serve “serpent-gods” would further heighten the intrinsic symbolism.

Some readers might vaguely recall that R.E. Howard once used the pigeon idea in horror. Howard scholars may correct me, but it seems that Howard’s Lovecraft-alike story “Pigeons from Hell” (1934) didn’t arise from his seeing Lovecraft’s poem “The Pigeon Flyers” in late summer 1930 and/or corresponding with Lovecraft on the difficulty of making the intrinsically comical pigeon into a bird of weird horror. Apparently it’s claimed that the Howard story arose instead from memories of “Howard’s grandmother’s ghost stories”, long ago told of old deserted pigeon-roost mansion houses in the American south. Though it’s certain that Howard had earlier expressed admiration for Lovecraft’s use of “the unique grisliness of the notion” of whippoorwill birds in “The Dunwich Horror”.

Lovecraft’s space-pigeons are able to travel through the “black unknown gulfs” to Thog, a dark moon of Yuggoth on the edge of the solar system (“what they brought from Thog beneath their wings” — “The Pigeon Flyers”). This implies that what in earthly terms are thought of as the “serpent-gods” are located on Thog. Or more likely under, in caves and/or under an ice-sea. Presumably “what they brought” to Earth evokes fungi, and the observation arose due to Lovecraft spotting the fungi-like parasitic growths often seen on diseased urban pigeons. The travel is thus two-way, “unrepeatable messages” are sent and then small podules of strange Yuggothian fungi are brought back to Earth. Possibly this fungi has something to do with maintaining the preternatural youth of the Pigeon Flyers.

Virgil Finlay

Virgil Finlay space-war illustration, Startling Stories, March 1939. Extracted, cleaned, and with a new colourisation.

I generally like his sci-fi work much better than the macabre and girlie work, but there doesn’t seem to a comprehensive catalogue/artbook of such work. Virgil Finlay’s Strange Science seems to come closest to a book collection of his sci-fi work, and even though it’s from 1993 it can still be had for reasonable prices.

Worlds of Tomorrow magazine had a well-researched short biographical appreciation of Finlay in 1965, when people still remembered the 1930s with some clarity.

Here’s the Lovecraft poem it opens with, in full and read by Wayne June (sans studio-boosting)… .MP3.

Surprisingly, it appears no-one has yet made a documentary about him. Perhaps the difficulty of placing the work on a small screen was offputting. But in the age of the 8k screen and huge monitors with reasonable crispness and greyscale response, the fine detail of the work might now be presentable on the screen.