SF’s influence on science

An interesting new article on a topic little-addressed outside of SF circles: “Modifiable Futures: Science Fiction at the Bench“…

“the function of science fiction […] in the history of scientific and technological innovation has often been obscured, misconstrued, or repudiated” [but] “they have a relationship of ongoing and productive mutual modification.”

Domestic Lovecraft

Apex has a full online copy of the new survey/opinion article “The Improbable, Inevitable Domestication of the Great Old Ones: HP Lovecraft’s Iconic Influence on 21st-Century Fantastic Literature and Culture“, which is part of Apex Magazine’s September 2011 issue — available by in PDF/ePub/Kindle/Nook.

“In the passage of time, the promiscuous appropriation of his creations and now Lovecraft’s canonization into the American literary firmament, some of the weirdness and danger is culturally softened. Becoming an icon, a representation that can be used to create not just likeness but signify qualities beyond the image, has taken some of the horror out of Lovecraft.”

Lovecraft in the New York Public Library

From my new book, a photo of the Local History & Genealogy room in the New York Public Library, a room where Lovecraft spent many evenings reading a reference-only book on the history of Providence.


Above: Local History and Genealogy room (No. 328) of the New York Public Library. Picture: Handbook of The New York Public Library, 1916. Public Domain.

Possibly this is the sort of “small genealogical reading-room” that Lovecraft had in mind when writing “The Dunwich Horror” just a few years later in 1928…

“The building was full of a frightful stench which Dr Armitage knew too well, and the three men rushed across the hall to the small genealogical reading-room whence the low whining came. For a second nobody dared to turn on the light, then Armitage summoned up his courage and snapped the switch. One of the three — it is not certain which — shrieked aloud at what sprawled before them among disordered tables and overturned chairs. […] The thing that lay half-bent on its side in a foetid pool of greenish-yellow ichor and tarry stickiness was almost nine feet tall, and the dog had torn off all the clothing and some of the skin. It was not quite dead, but twitched silently and spasmodically while its chest heaved in monstrous unison with the mad piping of the expectant whippoorwills outside. Bits of shoe-leather and fragments of apparel were scattered about the room…” — “The Dunwich Horror”.

One wonders if the nature of this creature’s depiction was perhaps even Lovecraft’s literary revenge on some particularly annoying phlegmy and wheezing old cougher, such as he might have once had to endure in the room at the New York Public Library?

Here’s another picture, unused in the book, which depicts another typical scene from the New York Public Library in the early years of the 20th century…


Picture: New York Public Library Flickr Commons stream.

This is what the exterior/entrance looked like, as painted by Tavik Frantisek Simon in 1927…

Nicholas Roerich Museum

Skeleton Pete reports on a visit to The Nicholas Roerich Museum in New York City. More photos on Flickr. Lovecraft knew Roerich’s work and something of his ideas, and presumably met other Theosophists in New York, although he was never a believer. Indeed, he seems to have lumped most of the theosophists in with charlatan quackery like spiritualism. In a letter to Willis Conover, Lovecraft wrote of… “The crap of the theosophists, which falls into the class of conscious fakery”. His use of whacky ideas from Theosophy is explored in Robert M. Price’s 1982 article “HPL and HPB: Lovecraft’s Use of Theosophy” (available online). He did have good words to say about Roerich however…

“Possibly I have mentioned to you at various times my admiration for the work of Nicholas Roerich — the mystical Russian artist who has devoted his life to the study & portrayal of the unknown uplands of Central Asia, with their vague suggestions of cosmic wonder & terror … surely Roerich is one of those rare fantastic souls who have glimpsed the grotesque, terrible secrets outside space & beyond time, & who have retained some ability to hint at the marvels they have seen.” — 21st/22nd May 1930 to Lillian D. Clark.

“…old Nicholas Roerich, the Russian painter whose weird Thibetan landscapes I have so long admired” — Selected Letters: 1932-1934.

“…good old Nick Roerich, whose joint at Riverside Drive and 103rd Street is one of my shrines in the pest zone [New York City]” — letter to James F. Morton, March 1937.

Roerich lived to 1947, so the date on the latter letter suggests Lovecraft may have known him well in the mid 1930s, when he often visited New York just after Christmas. “Good old” was usually a Lovecraft-ism used for things like cinemas or old men or old cats, meaning they were “reliable” in their warm welcome and hospitality.


Above: Nicholas Roerich, “Armageddon, 1936”.