H. P. LOVECRAFT, AN EVALUATION

by

Joseph Payne Brennan




Copyright 1955

by

Joseph Payne Brennan


MACABRE HOUSE

55 Trumbull St.

New Haven 10

Connecticut


Since the publication of my “H. P. Lovecraft: A Bibliography” (Biblio
Press, 1952), I have been repeatedly urged to write out my opinion of
Lovecraft’s work. I have been kept from doing so by the pressure of a
full-time library job, plus my own creative work in the diverse fields
of the horror story, the western story, and poetry, as well as the
semi-annual publication of ESSENCE and other time-consuming activities
such as an unending struggle against censorship groups which are
violating Constitutional rights on both a local and national level.

The following brief essay is an admittedly hurried and incomplete
attempt to meet demands for a Lovecraft critique. An entire book,
requiring many months of uninterrupted work, could be devoted to the
project and I sincerely regret that circumstances do not permit me to
undertake such a task. But I hope that my comments, in spite of their
brevity, will be of some interest.

Nearly twenty years have passed since Lovecraft’s death, but,
unfortunately, a final evaluation of the man and of his work is still
not possible. His collected poems, though due to appear shortly, have
not yet been published. His letters, either selected or collected, have
not appeared. Probably some of the pieces which he contributed under
pseudonyms to “little” magazines have never been reprinted. And of
course no complete and carefully written biography of the man has ever
been published.

With the important exception of the poems and letters however, all of
Lovecraft’s work of any significance has been in print for some years.
It seems doubtful, therefore, that an evaluation of his work, at this
time, will be seriously qualified by future publication.

In his essay on Lovecraft, “Tales of the Marvellous and the
Ridiculous”, which originally appeared in “The New Yorker” and was
later reprinted in his book, “Classics and Commercials”, Edmund Wilson
states flatly: “Lovecraft was not a good writer.” (Before Lovecraft
admirers reach for their shotguns, I might point out that Edmund Wilson
also refers to no less a literary figure than Somerset Maugham as
“second-rate” and “a half-trashy novelist.”) Even though his criticism
is far too severe—too much of a generalization—Wilson does call
attention to two Lovecraft faults which I must reluctantly acknowledge:
his frequent prolixity and his tendency to lean on shopworn adjectives
such as “terrible”, “horrible”, “hellish”, etc. to achieve eerie
effects. In a good horror story, adjectives such as this are best
omitted or at least introduced very sparingly. Beyond these criticisms,
Wilson emphasizes the essential weakness and lack of verisimilitude
of the “Cthulhu Mythos” episodes. With this, too, I must grudgingly
agree. And at this point I would like to call attention to the fact
that the two specific faults mentioned immediately above—prolixity and
adjectivitus—are more frequently encountered in the “Mythos” stories
than in any others.

The “Cthulhu Mythos” has raised a great commotion. Over a period of
years, enthusiastic collaborators, imitators, friends and admirers
have elevated the Cthulhu myth to a pedestal of importance which
it scarcely deserves. The “Mythos” did indeed become the frame for
Lovecraft’s later tales, but they were not his best tales. Lovecraft
also amused himself by employing Cthulhu terminology in some of his
huge correspondence, but it now seems doubtful that he attached as
much importance to the “Mythos” as do some of his disciples!

Many of the Cthulhu stories, such as “The Dunwich Horror” and “The
Whisperer in Darkness”, are actually tedious. They are too long; our
interest is apt to flag; our “willing suspension of disbelief” may not
hold to the final page. All too often we read on without compulsion,
without belief, without very much actual enthusiasm.

Lovecraft often seems so intent on introducing and exploiting the
“Mythos”, he loses sight of some of the basic elements which are
essential in a good short story: economy of wordage, verisimilitude,
mounting suspense sweeping to a single climax followed quickly by the
final denouement.

Referring to the “Mythos”, Edmund Wilson concluded: “It is all more
amusing in his letters than it is in the stories themselves.” Of course
it was not intended to be amusing in the stories, but I think Wilson’s
meaning is clear.

When it still possessed the freshness of novelty, the Cthulhu Mythology
afforded a vast amount of entertainment. But with the passage of
time the novelty has evaporated and the myth has become threadbare.
Lovecraft used it in story after story and his disciples have exploited
it since his death and it now seems wrung nearly dry of interesting
effects.

It remains, of course, an integral part of the bulk of Lovecraft’s
work. To attempt to dismiss it as incidental or unimportant would be to
close our eyes to the facts.

In my opinion however, Lovecraft’s future reputation as a writer of
fine horror stories will rest on a very few of his early tales in which
the Cthulhu Mythos is either entirely absent or at most still in its
formative stages in Lovecraft’s own mind. These early stories which I
mean to mention were published prior to the appearance of the first
generally accepted “Mythos” story: “The Call of Cthulhu” (WEIRD TALES,
February, 1928)

These stories are: “The Hound” (WEIRD TALES, February, 1924); “The Rats
in the Walls” (WEIRD TALES, March, 1924); “The Music of Erich Zann”
(WEIRD TALES, May, 1925); “The Outsider” (WEIRD TALES, April, 1926);
“Pickman’s Model” (WEIRD TALES, October, 1927)

Of these I think the best of all is “The Music of Erich Zann.” This
piece, which might have been written by Poe, has everything which
many of the “Mythos” tales lack: compression, sustained and rising
suspense culminating in a powerfully effective climax followed almost
immediately by the end of the story. Stylistically and structurally, I
think Lovecraft never surpassed it. I think it probable that the old
German mute will go on sawing his accursed viol in that ghoul-infested
garret long after great Cthulhu has lapsed into silence! This story,
like Poe’s masterpiece, “The Cask of Amontillado”, seems literally
above criticism. There are no wasted words. The brief story unfolds
with a remorseless inevitability. Nothing could be omitted, nothing
added, nothing changed which would improve its quality. In its
particular genre it remains a pure masterpiece.

After “The Music of Erich Zann”, I would cite “The Rats in the Walls.”
Actually, I very nearly voted it first place because it achieves a
pitch of sheer grisly horror which exceeds the taut terror of “The
Music of Erich Zann.” On the other hand, it does not possess quite the
same degree of purity and compression. But it is a masterpiece of its
type, and again I can think of no Lovecraft story after “The Music of
Erich Zann” which equals it. As a matter of fact, one almost feels
that Lovecraft has gone too far in this particular story. Something
inside one rebels as the ghastly eldrich grottos reveal their loathsome
secrets. Perhaps it is simply that one instinctively refuses to believe
that homo sapiens could ever descend to such a hellish sub-level. But
this is a philosophical comment, not a criticism of the story.

“The Rats in the Walls” begins in the somewhat leisurely manner which
has come to be associated with rather old-fashioned gothic ghost
stories, and for some little time nothing really hair-raising happens.
But once the full horror comes to light, it simply overwhelms us. We
see at once that the leisurely start was intended to lull us a little.
Certainly it kept us interested enough to continue, and we did perhaps
expect some pretty formidable horrors—but nothing like what we finally
encounter! For sheer inhuman horror those twilit grottos under the evil
foundations of Exham Priory have yet to be surpassed.

In his introduction to “Best Supernatural Stories of H. P. Lovecraft”,
August Derleth states: “It has been said of “The Outsider” that if the
manuscript had been put forward as an unpublished tale by Edgar Allan
Poe, none would have challenged it.” Perhaps this is not literally
true, but I agree with the spirit of it. “The Outsider” is one of
Lovecraft’s finest stories. It possesses the merit of compression; with
rising intensity it achieves its single shuddery effect—and ends. Some
aspects of this story call to mind Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death”;
both stories achieve their effects with a minimum of wordage, both
linger in the mind.

“Pickman’s Model” is one of Lovecraft’s strongest stories. It has
unity of effect, suspense, a highly original plot idea, and a climax
which neatly and forcefully ends the story. It is not quite as tightly
knit as “The Music of Erich Zann” or “The Outsider”, but it is still
Lovecraft writing at his top-level best. The “nameless blasphemy with
glaring red eyes” gnawing at a human head would probably feel at home
in one of those unspeakable grottos under the infamous walls of Exham
Priory!

I have mentioned Lovecraft’s “The Hound” because it has remained in my
mind after I first read it many years ago. Its structure is somewhat
slight and it does not have the power of Lovecraft’s very best tales,
but it has splendid atmosphere and, again, brevity and unity of effect.
It might have been written by the early Poe. But I cite it primarily
because it has lingered long in my mind.

The limitations of this little critique do not permit me to touch on
many other good Lovecraft stories. I have mentioned only five which
I think are the best. I am merely expressing a personal opinion—a
personal taste—and I am more than willing to admit of other opinions—no
matter how they may differ from my own. Time alone will decide who is
right!

I have not yet seen all of Lovecraft’s poetry, but I think I have seen
enough to comment briefly. Much of the poetry falls into two main
categories: deliberately archaic work imitative of eighteenth-century
verse, and a group of weird sonnets known as “Fungi from Yuggoth.” The
imitative verse is interesting and often competent, but I think the
“Fungi” sonnets are far more arresting and effective. A few of the very
best of them may survive.

Any criticism of Lovecraft’s work, no matter how brief, would be
incomplete if it omitted mention of his famous essay, “Supernatural
Horror in Literature.” Even Edmund Wilson concedes that the essay
is “a really able piece of work.” In my pamphlet, “H. P. Lovecraft:
A Bibliography”, I commented: “The background and evolution of the
horror tale—a “must” for anyone seriously interested in the genre.” The
comment still holds. Apart from the letters, I think it is probably the
finest piece of non-fiction which Lovecraft ever wrote.

Judging from the few letters and extracts from letters which are in
print, Lovecraft’s “Selected Letters” (or “Collected”) will definitely
enhance his reputation. It is probable that their publication will
revive and intensify interest in both the man and his work. Lovecraft’s
erudition, humor and style is such that it is even possible they will
eventually tend to eclipse his other work! At this point we can only
wait and see.

Lovecraft’s final place in American literature has not yet been
determined. It is too early for that. But it seems certain that the
very best of his work will endure, that it will remain important in
the particular field which he chose. If he did not reach the summits
attained by Poe, or Bierce, at his best he scaled some dizzy heights.


This is an edition of 75 copies.

This is copy number:

30