CRYPT OF

CTHULHU
A Pulp Thriller and Theological Journal

Volume 7, Number 2 Yuletide 1987

CONTENTS
Editorial Shards 2

The Volume Out of Print 3

By Jim Cort

Midnight in Providence 9
By Charles Carofalo

Howard Lovecraft and the Terror from Beyond . . 13

By Robert M. Eber

The Man Who Collected Lovecraft 19

By Philip Weber

Christmas with Uncle Lovecraft 30

By Bruce J. Balfour

Lovecraft as a Character in Lovecraftian Fiction . . 35

By Robert M. Price

From the Vaults of Yoh-Vombis 38

By Lin Carter

The Keeper at the Crypt 42

By Carl T. Ford

R'lyeh Review 45

Mail-Call of Cthulhu 56

1
2 / Crypt of Cthulhu

Debatable and Disturbing:

EDITORIAL SHARDS
Winfield Townley Scott once HPL gets mixed up with Nazi spies;
dubbed H. P. Lovecraft "his own Fred Chappell's "Weird Tales," in
most fantastic creation," and cer- which HPL and Samuel Loveman en-
tainly many have found him to be counter weird entities; and a recent
so. The typical Lovecraftian begins tale in the "Heroes in Hell" series
by being captivated by HPL's fic- in which the shades of HPL and
tion, then moves on to absorption Robert E. Howard meet Cilgamesh
in the man himself, in all his fas- and others in the netherworld.
cinating eccentricity, as if one This present issue of Crypt of
might become a latter-day
thus Cthulhu , "The Adventures of H. P.
member of the Kalem Club. This Lovecraft" continues this trend by
Lovecraft personality cult has had bringing you five more apocryphal
some interesting results, one of adventures of Lovecraft, some par-
which is the production of a small odic, some straightfaced . Robert
genre of fiction in which Lovecraft Eber's "Howard Lovecraft and the
has become a character. Such a Terror from Beyond" was culled
development is a natural one for from an old Esoteric Order of Da-
two reasons. First, HPL was so gon mailing at the advice of Ran-
unusual and interesting a figure dall Larson. Philip Weber's "The
that one might easily take him for Man Who Collected Lovecraft," ob-
a fictional character. Second, the viously and unashamedly inspired
personal devotion many Lovecraf- by Robert Bloch's "The Man Who
tians feel for their departed Master Collected Poe," is not to be con-
has caused them to trade apocry- fused with Gregory Nicoll's tale of
phal stories, just as legends and the same title (available in Etchings
anecdotes grew up about the char- & Odysseys #5), which is an affec-
ismatic figures of Jesus, the Bud- tionate spoof-tribute to Lovecraft
dha, Saint Francis, and the Hasidic scholar Dirk W. Mosig.
zaddiks Only most of the tales of
. After five such tales, you may
HPL are admitted fictions. or may not be in the mood for an
We a number of such
have seen article, "Lovecraft as a Character
fictions lately, most notably Peter in Lovecraftian Fiction," which
Cannon's Pulptime in which HPL
,
surveys the development of the
and Frank Belknap Long team up whole trend.
with Sherlock Holmes; Richard Lu-
poff's Lovecraft's Book wherein ,
Robert M. Price, Editor
 ". .

Yuletide 1987 / 3

THE VOLUME OUT OF PRINT

By Jim Cort

"What I am trying to achieve, in ard would never give offense. No,

my own
small way, is the placing he just sat there well, being How-
on paper of the Ultimate Horror. I ard. He would go on about the
want to render in prose the terror Ultimate Horror, or launch into a
that all of us have felt, lurking learned discourse on Eighteenth
just beneath the surface. Not Century architecture, or turn so
merely the fear of death, but the diffident that even while asking for
more encompassing, eldritch and the job, he would somehow imply he
nerve-shattering fear that things wasn't good enough for it. Need-
are not as they should be; that the less to say, none of these ap-
assumptions from which we have proaches proved very successful.
hung our petty lives are in fact We reached the street and How-
false; that there is nothing to stand ard said, "I don't think it went
between us and the outer dark- well." He said it as if there might
ness .
be some doubt in the matter.
The editor shifted in his chair. "No," said, "it didn't go well.
I

"That's very interesting, Mr. Love- Howard, you've got to start taking
craft, and very well put, may I an interest in your own future.
add. But I'm afraid we're looking You've got to approach this job
for something a little different here hunting business seriously."
at Vanity Fair ." Howard looked pained. "But I

Ihadn't really expected it to am, Jimmy. don't think that's

I

work. After a few polite questions fair. I'm trying very hard to jus-
and strained pleasantries, we got tify your confidence in me. I'm sure
up to leave. The editor held me I could perform splendidly in any
back when Howard left the room. of these positions. It's just acquir -
"Where did you find that guy?" he ing the position that seems to de-
asked feat me. I'm too old for this."
"He followed me home," said. I said, "Howard, you're only 38.
I

"Thanks anyway." And you can get any job you want
Howard Lovecraft was newly ar- if you put your mind to it. You've
rived in New York City, fresh from got to keep to the point. You
Providence with a new wife and no can't go off on tangents all the
job. He was making a little money time. People get the wrong idea.
from' writing an occasional weird Like that screwy stuff you told the
story, and a little more from revis- guy from Collier's ."
ing the work of others not nearly "I merely assured him that I

so talented as he. But it wasn't would not permit my pure Anglo-

enough Saxon heritage to cause me to look
Iwas working for an ad agency down upon members of the staff
then and had quite a few contacts whose ancestry was less fortunate
at the magazines around town. I than my own. People care about
didn't realize at first that Howard things like that."
would be a harder product to mar- "No, they don't."
ket than Maxwell's Broccoli Flavored "The best people do," he in-
Gum. could get him an interview
I sisted .

with an editor. could even ac- I Howard had one basic and ap-
company him into the office. But parently insoluble problem: He
after that, it was up to Howard. didn't belong in the Twentieth Cen-
And somehow Howard always man- tury. I'm sure being the lord of
aged to say the wrong thing. some estate in the 1700s in Merrie
Not that he was offensive. How- Olde England would have suited
 " ,, " . " , . "

4 / Crypt of Cthulhu

him a "T."
to can picture him I There was a clatter of coat
sittingaround arguing politics with hangers from the other side of the
Addison and swapping verses with door, and a sound like a body
Pope. can't picture him dealing
I landing heavily on a pile of shoes.
with rush hour on the subway five "Yes," said a muffled voice, "I'm
days a week or punching a time all right."
clock. It was as if someone had "Is there anything we can get
kidnapped him from 1754 in Mr. you? Something to eat, perhaps?"
H. C. Wells' time machine and "No thanks." Then asound like
dumped him in New York City in a closet shelf collapsing.
1924. Sonia winced. Howard winced,
"Howard,
you have to under- too. He said, "There were a cou-
stand everyone's not like you," ple of items in the closet that we'll

I

told him. "You've got to play by be needing ah soon

their rules if you want to get "Won't be much longer," said the
ahead. You've qot to sell your- voice. "Nearly got it now. This is
self." going to be a swell trick oof!"
He looked like had suggested
I This last accompanied by a crash
he sell his mother, not himself. that shook one of the pictures off
"Heaven forfend! Jimmy, I'm sur- the adjoining wall.
prised at you. There are some "Howard," said Sonia, "how long
things to which a gentleman does are we going to put up with this?"
not stoop." Howard said, "Really, my dear,
* * * we can't be rude. Anyway, Mr.
Houdini is a great artist. We must
When we got Howard's apart- to make allowances. Shall we have
ment '
his was there to
wife Sonia some dinner?"
greet us. The desk was covered * * *
with hats and fabric samples from
her new hat shop. Howard wrapped The next eveningfound a note I

his little finger around hers and in Howard's crabbed, old-fashioned

squeezed. "How are you, my dear?" hand tucked under my door when I

"Just fine Howard she re- ,

got back from work:
"
plied. How did it go?"

"Not badly but not well ,

he Jimmy
answered
Felicitous news! Gainful em-
She glanced at me over his Promise of
ployment at last!
shoulder and shook my head She 1

much cash pleasant work!

sighed resignedly.
Finally something worthy of a
"Have you seen Mr. Houdini to-
gentleman
day, my dear?" asked Howard.
SH is off on a commercial
"No," said Sonia, "he hasn't
trip, so Grandpa is being do-
come out yet, Howard." tonight.
mestick by himself
As he moved toward the closet,
Could you bring over your
I whispered to Sonia, " Harry Hou- lexicon? Mine's in with
Latin
dini?"
Brother Houdini.
She nodded. "He was here to
discuss a story he and Howard had HPL
done together when he suddenly P. Bring ice cream.
S.
got a brainstorm about a new es-
cape stunt. He tied himself up
with his own belt and insisted we "SH" was how
he referred to
lock him in the closet. That was Sonia. The reference to ice cream
two days ago. He hasn't come out was intriguing, for it indicated that
since. Howard truly considered this Rea-
Howard was tapping softly at the son to Celebrate. ate a quick I

closet door. "Mr. Houdini," he dinner and stopped by the store

said, "are you all right?" as walked to Howard's place.
I I
 " "

Yuletide 1987 / 5

arrived with the ice cream in one "Charming. I guess there are
hand and my old Latin dictionary no pictures."
in the other. Howard answered my "This is just the sort of thing
knock and bustled me inside. "You I can use for my stories," said
got my note," he said. Howard. "I've been taking notes
"Yes. What's this all about?" for myself as go along. The I

"A job, Jimmy, a job," he re- thing's an absolute treasure trove."

plied as he took my parcels. "And "May see this book?"
I

it came to me. It just shows the Howard said "Certainly." He

advantages of a classical education. disappeared into the study and re-
What flavor of ice cream is this?" turned with a large black-bound
"Tutti-frutti." volume and placed it in my hands.
"It sounds foreign," he said. It was heavy and musty and half
We wound up in the parlor eat- again as big as a telephone book.
ing tutti-frutti ice cream (of which, The pages were brittle parchment
foreign or not, Howard had two and covered with Latin paragraphs
helpings), and got the story.
I A in the Black Letter style. On the
man had come by the apartment in front cover, embossed in the black
the afternoon, fortunately after leather was what looked like
Howard was awake. Sonia had left "RON CO."
that morning on a buying trip for "Who's Ron?" I asked.
her shop, so Howard had answered "Someof the letters have been
the door himself. obliterated," said Howard. "As I

"It was
remarkable," he said. told you, it's quite old."
"There he stood, like something out "How much are you getting paid
of Oliver Twist." for this, Howard?"
"Who?" "One hundred dollars," said
"He said his name was Alonzo Howard proudly, "five dollars as a
Vermin, but suspect that's an
I deposit. Excuse me, must I just
alias. put this back in the study. I

"Howard, be sensible. Who would promised Mr. Vermin I'd take good
change his name to 'Vermin'?" care of it."
"He had a book. Quite an old He had barely left the room with
book, as it turns out, all in Latin, the book under his arm when the
which he needed translated. He'd apartment door suddenly burst open
seen my advertisement in the local and a large man stood in the door-
press and thought was just the I way .

fellow. He was pleased at the num- "Thought you could pull a fast
ber of elderly tomes have here. I one on me, eh?" he said. "Where's
Said it made him feel more secure the book?" His face looked like it
leaving the book with me. It's had been stepped on frequently and
quite rare, apparently." with great enthusiasm. He had a
"What sort of book is it?" voice like Wallace Beery with a bad
"That's the most intriguing head cold.
part," said Howard eagerly. It Thinking quickly, said, "I beg I

seems to be some sort of grimoire, your pardon?"

a weird book of some kind, anyway. "The book," he growled, "the
I've been able to translate a few black book. Where is it?"
passages already. Listen to this: "You must be Ron."
'It is of old rumor that the devil- "Don't give me that stuff. I'm
bought hastes not from his charnel Vermin .

clay, but fats and instructs the "I don't doubt it," I said.
very worm that gnaws; till out of "Oh, a wise guy, eh?" he said,
corruption horrid life springs, and and drew from his pocket a very
the dull scavengers of earth wax nasty looking pistol.
crafty to vex it and swell mon- I smiled just as soothingly as I

strous to plague it.' Isn't that knew how and said, "I believe you
wonderful?" want my friend, Mr. Lovecraft."
 . . "

6 / Crypt of Cthulhu

As if on cue, Howard appeared ful of greasy hair. He then lifted

in the doorway. his brother two feet off the floor
"Put your hands up in the air," until his face was level with his
ordered Vermin. own. "You been playin' me for a
Howard looked indignant. "A sap," said Greg. "You give this
gentleman would never assume such guy the book, didn't you?"
a ridiculous position." "I was just gonna have him
"Mustn't annoy Mr. Vermin, translate it," squeaked Alonzo,
Howard," I said, still smiling. "He "while you was away. That's all.
has a gun." Pummee down, Greg." He hung
"This isn't Mr. Vermin," said from his brother's hand like a mail
Howard indignantly. "This man is sack from a hook, running through
an imposter." an unpleasantly large repertoire of
"Howard," I said, a little more horrid faces.
insistently, rude. "don't be Mr. "Translate, huh? While was I

Vermin wants his book back." away, huh? So maybe you'd have
"This is not Mr. Vermin. This a nice surprise for me when come I

is not the man who gave me the back, huh?" With every "huh"
book. I'm certainly not going to Greg gave Lonnie a vicious shake.
turn it over to him." Howard had "Jeez, Lonnie, ain't got enoughI

always been a man of high moral to worry about?" he went on in a

principles. wanted to strangle
I softer tone. "What's the matter
him with you? Is it my fault can I

The man called Vermin eyed us make the book work and you can't?
suspiciously, or maybe that was Is it my fault you flunked Latin?
just the natural cast of his face. Why didn't you study like Mom told
"Wait a minute," he growled, you? You never listened to any-
"whaddya mean gave you the book? thing Mom said."
Lonnie, get in here !
"A boy's best friend is his
This last remark was made fac- mother," said Howard.
ing us, and it took me a moment to "Listen, Greg," said as mildly
I

realize that it was not directed at as Icould, "it must be awfully un-
us. For after a second a short, comfortable holding your brother
scrawny fellow with a limp and a and that heavy gun, too. Why
bad complexion skulked around the don't you put the gun down?"
door jamb. If Alfalfa Switzer had "Don't you like me, Lonnie?"
gone on the skids, he would have said Greg, putting nothing down.
wound up looking like this. "Ain't always treated you right?
I

"
That's Mr. Vermin," said How- What do you want to sneak around
ard . like this for?"
"Introduce me, Lonnie," said the "I'd be glad to hold the gun for
man with the gun. you," added.
I

"Mr. Lovecraft," mumbled Lon- Lonnie's eyes filled with tears,

nie, staring at the floor, "this is whether from remorse or pain it was
m'brother Greg." difficult to say. "Awww, Greg. I

"Pleased to meet you," said just wanted to be important, like

Howard you. just wanted to help.
I
I

"Yeah," said Greg. didn't mean nothing by it."

"Mr. Vermin," said Howard pet- Greg said, "I was gonna let you
ulantly, "what is all this about?" help. was gonna let you help
I

"Yeah, Lonnie," said Greg in a tonight. You coulda asked me.

far less pleasant tone, "what's all What do you want to tell me stories
this about? You told me this bird for? I'm all embarrassed here."
stole the book." "Awww, Greg," said Lonnie
"Mr. Vermin I
" Howard was ap- again, "I never meant for that to
palled . happen. thought you was just
I

Greg clapped his hand on top of gonna shoot 'em." He tried to look
Alonzo's head and grabbed a hand- endearing and nearly succeeded, in
 . " "" . "" "

Yuletide 1987 / 7

a Cabinet of Dr. Caligar sort of i that part out. Firearms are vul-
way. "Listen," he said, "couldn't gar."
we just forget the whole thing?" "It's almost time" said Greg,
Greg Vermin's face did some- brandishing the pistol. "We need
thing which might have been smil- that book now. We gotta do it at
ing. "Yeah, OK. We got more im- 11:59 exactly. Like it says: la I

portant stuff to do." He set his Cthulhu fhtagn !

brother carefully on the floor and "How do you spell that?" said
turned to Howard. "Mr. Lovecraft, Howard, still scribbling.
I wanna 'pologize for thinkin' you Greg turned to his brother in
stole the Necronomicon confusion. "He don't think we're
"
Necronomicon said , Howard,
11
serious.
"is that what it's called? Greek "Prove it to him," said Lonnie.
isn't it?" "Shoot his friend."
"Idunno," said Greg. He raised They both looked at me.
the gun to point at Howard's nose. My stomach immediately plum-
"Anyway, hand it over, or I'll blow meted to my knees. tried to call I

your brains out. We got no time to Howard again, but my voice was
lose. At 11:59 tonight we can open too frightened to come out. The
the gate." muzzle of the pistol that Greg
"What gate?" asked Howard. pointed at me was the meanest,
"Never mind, Howard," said in I blackest hole had ever seen.I

a strangled voice. "Just give him Suddenly the closet door burst
the book and he'll go away." open and Harry Houdini stumbled
"The gate," said Greg, "the gate out, around his neck and
his belt
to the other side where the Old his pants around his ankles. "I've
Guys wait." done it!" he shouted.
"The Old Guys?" Both of the Vermins yelled and
"Yeah, the Old Guys," said swung around. Greg fired and a
Greg impatiently, "like it says in vase on the bookcase behind Hou-
the book: Yog-Sothoth, Nyarlatho- dini exploded into pnakotic frag-
tep, Cthulhu, Hastur, ments. Houdini plunged forward,
"Gesundheit," said Howard. tripping on his pants, and cracked
"We can use the spells in the his head against the leg of the
book to bring 'em through," said sofa
Lonnie. Igrabbed the first thing could I

"They'll take over everything," lay my hand on, which happened to

said Greg. be the ice cream container, and
"Wipe out everybody," continued threw it at the Vermins. Then,
Lonnie astonishing no one more than my-
Howard's eyes were glittering. self, jumped out of my chair and
I

"This is fascinating." landed on them both. We all col-

"No, it's not, Howard," I lapsed to the floor in a heap and I

pleaded "Give them the book." tried to wrestle the gun from
"Yeah," sneered Lonnie, "we Greg's grip. don't think could I I

don't want to keep them boys have done it with a crowbar. He

waitin' any longer. They been stood up with me clinging to his
waitin' since before time began arm like a gibbon to a tree limb.
already. His shirt was covered with tutti-
"I must get this down," said frutti ice cream, and he did not
Howard. He rummaged at the desk look pleased.
for pencil and paper and began Howard stood up from the desk,
scribbling furiously. a look of outrage on his face.
"Howard," said, trying not to
I "That's quite enough," he said.
sound as hysterical as was, "the I "That vase belonqed to my qrand-
man has a gun." father .

"Yes, yes, know." said How-

I Lonnie lay crumpled on the
ard without looking up, "We'll leave floor, since his brother had landed
 . ". "

8 / Crypt of Cthulhu

on top of him, and Greg still had "No, really," said Greg. Next to
the gun. He had a look on his face him on the floor Houdini groaned.
which saw some years later in the
I Greg leaned over absently, picked
movies on the face of King Kong. I him up with one hand and sat him
don't like to think what would have on the sofa. "I don't know why. If
happened then if the clock on the I was a bus driver, I'd get to meet
mantel hadn't chimed. people all the time. Get to talk
Greg stared at it, transfixed, as with them; get to know them. May-
it chimed twelve times. He turned be some of them would like me.
to Howard. "Is that clock right?" I could drive one of those big dou-
"Of course," said Howard, "it's ble-decker ones, the kind they
from Providence." have on Fifth Avenue. think I

"Midnight," said Greg softly. they're swell."

"Too late." He let the arm to which Howard said, "I ride busses
I still clung fall limply to his side, frequently. People often have
and slipped off at his feet.
I The pleasant conversations with the
gun tumbled from his hand and drivers. I'm sure it's a fine pro-
landed in my lap, scaring me all fession."
over again. "I can't do anything Greg Vermin stood up like a man
right," he went on. "I couldn't remade. "Yeah," he said, "that's
even make the book work right, what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna give
not really. Mom was right. I up all this spook stuff and be a
shoulda been a bus driver." bus driver." He stepped to the
He stepped over his brother and middle of the room and picked up
me and sat down heavily on the his brother's inert form. "Sorry
sofa. He looked at the two of us about the vase. Suppose you keep
forlornly the book, would that square it?"
"How did you come by this Howard began, "Oh the book is
book?" asked Howard. He was still far too valu
taking notes. "Yes, thank you," I said quick-
"Me an' Lonnie found it some- ly, "that would do nicely. So long.
place down in Greenwich Village," Don't let us keep you."
said Greg absently. "We was look- Greg walked slowly out the door,
ing for a book the right size to put carrying his brother like a suitcase
under a table leg. It cost fifty at his side. "Maybe Lonnie could
cents, think." I be a conductor," he mumbled as he
"But all this destruction you disappeared through the door.
were going to cause," said Howard, "Not a bad egg, really," said
"all these beings from another place Howard, "but his grammar is atro-
whom you were going to unleash. cious. "
What made you think of that?" "I'm riding the subway from now
'
Greg shrugged. "It was some- on," said.
I

thin' to do. My heart wasn't really Houdini groaned again on the

in it, though. What really wanna
I sofa
do is get out and meet people. I "Do you think you could look
been thinking more and more about after Mr. Houdini?" said Howard.
bein' a bus driver like Mom said. "I've got some reading I'd like to
You get to meet people when you're do.
a bus driver. like people, really.
I "Sure," I said. "I could use
It's just sometimes get upset. You
I the rest."
might not believe this, but lots of "Thanks, Jimmy." He picked up
people are scared of me." my dictionary and went into
Latin
said, "No kidding," as
I emp- I the study. don't think I'd ever
I

tied the shells from his gun. seen him quite so contented.
 Yuletide 1987 / 9

MIDNIGHT IN PROVIDENCE
By Charles Carofalo

Time stopped in Providence at his critics. As Lovecraft had ex-

midnight. Not every midnight, but pected to find only the uncon-
it did this particular one. It froze sciousness all atheists predict comes
as the earth on the old grave after death (with occasional appre-
cracked . . .moved . . .then ex- hensions of the fires of the Puritan
ploded upwards. The skeleton of hell during his blacker moods), he
Howard Phillips Lovecraft rose and had been more than content to
stepped out of it. With stumbling, accept his lot.
unsure steps, the mortal remains of What was going on in a strange
the old writer looked around at the dark house in the suburbs intimate-
wide expanse of the beautiful, ly involved him. And there was
moonlit memorial park. The Love- no possible way he could accept it.
craft plot almost overlooked the Lovecraft knew he was lucky
Narraganset Bay. Lovecraft saw that time had stopped, as often
he would have to cross the entire, happened when supernatural inci-
quite large, cemetery to reach the dents occurred. There was no
road. Slowly, he set out for the way he could have made it across
cemetery fence. town in time, otherwise. A sham-
No Lovecraft fans were holding bling skeleton just doesn't get any-
covert midnight vigils at his grave where fast. He had no illusions
this particular night. The cemetery about the possibility of waving
caretaker, in the best tradition of down a car. True, there were far
Lovecraft's own stories, was too more cars out, even at night, than
drunk to notice anything amiss. No there ever were in his day, but it
one saw as the skeleton, from which would have been unfair to expect
hung the rags of an antiquated the average driver to stop to pick
dress suit, left Swan Point Ceme- up the walking dead.
tery. Just as well. Even dead, a Lovecraft slowly but purposefully
tall, unathletic writer awkwardly marched through the sidestreet
climbing over a fence is a rather storefront district of Providence
ludicrous sight. at the base of College Hill. He
Lovecraft turned his steps to- vaguely wished he could take the
ward the heart of Providence. His time to visit old haunts, but he
goal was a suburb on the other had no idea how long time would
side of the town, a residential dis- stand still. As it was, he could
trict which hadn't begun to be not help noticing the changes, how
built until long after his death. But so many of those old buildings he'd
he knew about it, and he knew he loved had been allowed to fall into
had to go there. Death, for him, decrepitude, and how many more
had been a paradox. Lovecraft had had been torn down and replaced
lain in his grave all these years, by modern structures. It grieved
yet somehow he had also been aware the antiquarian in him to see how
of every single matter that might his town had changed. Those old
have remotely involved him, buildings had been ugly and or-
whether it had been a story of his nate, even he had to admit, but
being reprinted, a critic or biogra- they had had personality, some-
pher setting down his opinion of thing that the bland, characterless
him. or even two readers talking structures that for the most part
him over. For a writer, such a replaced them sorely lacked. The
fate might prove either heaven or occasional old building that was well
hell, depending on the verdict of preserved or possibly even restored
 . .

10 / Crypt of Cthulhu

to something like its prime usually horrifying and effective. The re-
a church or mansion served to suscitated cadaver from his tale
make the sad decline of the rest of "The Outsider," now that would
the city even more obvious. As he have really filled the bill.
trudged up Angell Street, he was Well, he'd have to make do with
almost relieved to see the Fleur-de- what he had, and hope it was
Lis building unchanged. Once he enough . . .

had called it hideous, and it was, * * *

but the new List Art Building up
ahead, with its ultramodern, and The neighborhood was affluent;
ultra-ugly, design made the old everybody in it was either at the
Victorian pile look positively beau- absolute top of the middle class, or
tiful by contrast. Oh yes, he al- outright rich. It was new, fresh;
ready knew of the List Art Build- the buildings were all in beautiful
ing. They had moved his old resi- shape, despite the wide variation in
dence, where he had written "The building styles; the parked cars he
Haunter of the Dark," over a block saw were all big and shiny.
or two to make room for it. A So much for his stories, where
thing like that wasn't likely to squalid, mongrel foreigners worked
escape his notice even if he was the evil rituals in old tenement
dead. No wonder crime was up and houses in the heart of dreary
morals were declining these days , slums. As he homed in on his goal
the skeleton thought. J_t would be . . . an attractive if inaccurate
easier for the average human being imitation of an old German hunting
to adjust to one of the alien cities lodge, he heard the faint chanting,
put in my stories than to live his and knew he had to hurry if he
lifein this barren modern town was to do any good, for time had
For all his dislike of the new started again.
Providence, Lovecraft had to fight "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh ..." some-
to keep his mind on the matter at one chanted sonorously.
hand. There were temptations . . "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh ."a .

. to go visit College Street out of dozen or more voices echoed.

nostalgia, the temptation the vari- Had any of Lovecraft's face been
ous book stores held for him even left, he would have allowed himself
after all these years (and to think a smile. As it was, he had to
his poor efforts were now for sale settle for a skeletal grin. That
in many of them! ) "ancient chant" he'd created for his
Those few he encountered made story was effectively eerie when re-
no attempt to stop him. Of course, cited under the right circum-
caught as they were between pass- stances, not a batch of unpro-
ing moments, they stood frozen and nounceable nonsense words the way
staring, unable to see him. As he his detractors said it would be.
predicted in many of his works, a But he had to get in there, and
goodly percentage of the people he fast.
passed were dark, foreign types, The back door was the quickest
and he saw that a number of stores route. It was a good heavy wooden
had signs in languages other than door, securely locked. Those in-
English side the house definitely did not
He stopped to observe (he could want uninvited guests coming in
not say "admire") himself in a large and seeing what they were up to.
mirror in a store front. Too bad Lovecraft slammed his shoulder
this business hadn't occurred be- against the door. Instead of his
fore time and the worm had reduced unprotected bones shattering, the
him to bare bones. A skeleton was way he'd half-expected them to,
unpleasant enough, but a decaying the door smashed off its hinges
corpse with its skin flaking off re- and fell in two pieces. The
vealing the ghastly charnal flesh strength and durability pulp writ-
beneath would have been even more ers attributed to the resuscitated
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 1 1

dead was there.

Cthulhu R'lyeh ..." the
. . The worshippers were not the
unseen speaker continued slowly. foreign scum he had always associ-
Cthulhu R'lyeh ..." his
. . ated with black magic. Oh, there
audience repeated. was a single person there of defi-
They were in the basement. nite Chinese or Japanese ancestry,
"... wgah'naql fhtaqn ." and two of the celebrants were
"... wgah'naql fhtaqn ." dark Latin types, but there was
In a group they repeated the little difference between them and
strange words over and over again, the WASPs (Lovecraft had heard
each time a little more quickly, the expression even where he was)
each time a little more intensely as that made up the bulk of the cele-
their emotions built up. Lovecraft brants. All were young adults,
knew what they were doing from his clearly prosperous, working at good
researches into occult and religious jobs, already respectable pillars of
practices. The ceremonies could their community. He, Howard and
not commence until the worshippers the rest had been wrong
had worked themselves into a near Hawthorne in his "Young Goodman
ecstasy of excitement, into a sort Brown" had had the right idea as
of berserk fervor during which no- to who might worship the devil on
body really cared what he or she dark nights.
did Except it was not the devil they
Smashing through the door to were worshipping. Instead, behind
the basement, the late author came the altar, seated on a black throne,
rattling down the steps, so quickly squatted the object of their adora-
he nearly lost his footing and al- tion. Cthulhu had come to life.
most came rolling down them. There before Lovecraft sat the
His entrance was enough to stop image of the very god he had cre-
the ritual dead. He stood at the ated. More than man-high sitting
bottom of the steps, confronting down, repulsively fat, scaled,
the celebrants. Fifteen people hands and feet ending in huge
stood staring at him, all naked ex- claws, wings flaring from his shoul-
cept for sheer robes. Thirteen ders, obscenely ugly, leering face
wore scarlet gowns sewn over with only half-hidden by the octopus
cabalistic and astrological symbols. tentacles ... if Cthulhu had ever
Two, a boy of about eight and a really existed, he existed now.
girl of maybe fifteen, wore the Lovecraft advanced on the wor-
plain white
robes of the sacrifices. shippers, hands outstretched to
They were gagged, each was tightly clutch and rend.
gripped by two cultists, and they "What the hell is . .?" began
.

were seemingly on the verge of be-
ing tied to the altar (a rough,
crude imitation of a Roman Catholic
church altar painted black) when
Lovecraft had intruded.
Lovecraft's eyeless gaze swept
the room, as the would-be devil-
worshippers backed away from him.
It was all there, a composite black
ceremony gleaned from Waite and
Crowley and a dozen other sources.
There were the blasphemous altar,
the big crucifix lying broken in
three pieces on the floor, the pen-
tacles, the black candles, the cups
for catching the sacrifices' blood,
the whips, the sacrificial knives,
the grotesque sexual paraphernalia.
one man in a cthulhoid mask, obvi-
ously the cult's leader. His words
changed to a bleat of fear as the
skeleton lunged at him. The clum-
sy, clutching fingers caught only
his robe, tearing it off him.
The cultists all fell back, terri-
fied. The skeleton's appearance
affected these hardened decadents
far more strongly than Lovecraft
might have guessed. None of them
had really believed in the super-
natural: the black magic ceremonies
were only an excuse to indulge
their tastes for vice and cruelty.
But all of them knew enough about
the supernatural to know what a
walking dead man meant, what he
 . .

12 / Crypt of Cthulhu

represented brought a bony fist down on it.

Lovecraft then made for the The flimsy plywood caved in easily.
cultists holding the intended vic- "But to use my creations as an
tims. The frightened decadents excuse for your debauchery " he
gave back, releasing the boy and roared, grabbing up one of their
girl. The two children fled. Love- whips and breaking it over his
craft knew that the memory of knee.
their kidnapping by the cultists, "your blasphemous orgies"
and his appearance, would plague Lovecraft continued, stomping on
them for years afterwards. Still, the pile of objects on the floor.
compared to what these lunatics "your cruelty " Lovecraft con-
had planned for them, they had tinued, attacking the statue of
gotten off light. Cthulhu itself, " is enough to make
Hehad to create a diversion anybody turn in his grave!"
quick, though, before somebody The image of Cthulhu was fash-
thought to run after the escaping ioned from papier-mache. The de-
pair. The skeleton lunged around termined skeleton made short work
the room, grabbing at everybody, of it.
champing his lantern jaw and rat- Several of the diabolists had fi-
tling for all he was worth. He nally managed to flee. The others
wasn't accurate, but he didn't need no longer could think clearly
to be. The worshippers screamed, enough to do so. One woman was
dodged, hurled themselves in a backed into a corner, screaming
dozen directions at once. Somehow, hysterically. Another was down on
whenever anyone made for the door her hands and knees, begging him
Lovecraft managed to be between for mercy. There was a man down
him and it. Their cries of terror on his knees, too, trying desper-
were magnified by the very same ately to convince Cod and the Vir-
soundproofing that had kept their gin Mary he had reformed and re-
deeds hidden from everyone every- pented the past few minutes.
all in
one save a dead man with super- No sense in lecturing these peo-
natural awareness. ple on sick actions none of
their
It was very like a grotesque them was in any condition to listen.
game of tag. Lovecraft soon tired In the distance Lovecraft heard
of it, though nowhere nearly as sirens. The fleeing children had
soon as the cultists lost their en- created enough of a disturbance to
thusiasm for it. attract the police. The Cthulhu
"I invented Cthulhu," Lovecraft cult, the cult he had unintention-
shouted, "to entertain people. That ally brought into being, was
was all. Iwas telling a story to finished
amuse myself and others." The skeleton suddenly collapsed,
He was amazed he could speak, strength gone. Lovecraft stood
considering his vocal cords were over the crumbling framework of
long gone. What he heard (with bones that had held his spirit for
no ears) was a deep, inhuman so long. If he had been the cause
voice, echoing as if he were speak- of all this, even without intending
ing from a tomb. Still, it had the to, maybe he had been held on
desired effect on the cultists. earth, unquiet, to right it all. It

"Just stories to amuse!" he re- was only just, he supposed.

peated. "If later writers turned But then he noticed something
out a batch of poor imitations of my he hadn't before. The cellar steps
tales, that wasn't so bad, because continued further downward, much
they hadn't been meant for any further. There might even be,
great purpose to begin with. If say, seven thousand of them. Love-
they went and made some of my craft began the long descent. Some-
stories into bad movies, well, most how he felt he would soon return to
movies are foolish anyway!" the Providence he remembered so
Lovecraft reached the altar and fondly.

HOWARD LOVECRAFT
AND THE TERROR FROM BEYOND
By Robert M. Eber
Glancing yet once more around
the shaded
room that was his dimly
lit study, Howard Lovecraft reached
into a dark recess behind a shelf of
books, and withdrew a dusty pack-
age wrapped in oily brown paper.
It had been a long time since he
had last allowed himself to look up-
on the bizarre object wrapped
therein. Nothing had happened the
last time, but his nerve had given
out at the thought of what he
had tried. It had only been recent-
ly that he felt well enough to make
another attempt. He expected no
more success than in the past; such
stuff as he was trying was, after
all, utter nonsense. Yet he had,
for a long time now, postulated the
existence of forces beyond the
realm of man's normal existence and
was eager to test his theories. At
any rate, it would make good copy
for one of his stories. The ritual
he contemplated would be looked
upon as outrageous by his friends,
much less by society at large, but
he was willing to try anything to
achieve his ends. And, ofttimes,
hidden among the wild ravings of
madmen, is a kernel of truth, if
one knew what to look for. One
could never be sure which parts
of a ritual were just nonsense, and
which had real significance.
But tonight would be different.
The stars seemed to be in just the
right position. And the moon the
moon had come up with a ruddy
hue across the blotched face that
had made him shudder at its mon-
strous significance. There was a
nip in the night air that had made
him tug at the lapels of his thin
coat, and foreshorten his nightly
stroll through the older sections of
the town. The very sounds of the
night seemed themselves to be in
waiting, expectant of the extraordi-
nary things that might occur on a
night like this. Howard found him-
self strangely affected by the an-
Yuletide 1987 / 13
ticipated events. It would be soon.
Slowly, almost reverently, How-
ard unwrapped the package, remov-
ing string and paper almost as if
the very act of unwrapping it were
dangerous. As the greasy paper
was unfolded from around the black
object enclosed within, a fetid odor
arose, instantly filling the room
with charnel vapors that assaulted
the nose and tortured the senses.
Momentarily, Howard reeled under
the attack of the stench, fighting
the instinctive urge to vacate the
room until the worst of the eldritch
smell had dissipated. Within mo-
ments, the odors disappeared, leav-
ing but a trace of their former
abundance. Howard had frequently
tried to get rid of the smells when
he had first acquired the object,
but without success.
Slowly, Howard picked up the
object, a look of awe and anticipa-
tion on his face. The dim light re-
vealed the object to be a book, a
book of massive covers with several
locks across the pages. It was
said, in certain unmentionable cor-
ners, that the book had been bound
in human skin, and that other
"parts" had gone into its making.
Perhaps so; it might very well ac-
count for the unbearable odors that
accumulated whenever the book was
left wrapped up for prolonged peri-
ods of time. From its outside ap-
pearance, the volume was old, very
old. The odd designs on the cover
looked almost impossible to make,
especially by human hands. The
strange whorls and wild curves did
not sit well with normal sensibili-
ties, and the scenes depicted on
front and back could only have
been the result of a deranged mind.
Howard had been unable to discover
anything of the origins of the dark
volume. Relatively recent history
of the book, going back several
centuries, was readily known, but
the book's history rapidly plunged
1 1) / Crypt of Cthulhu

into obscurity after that. There spell or warning, was meant to be

was not even a title page, or other
signs of printing history that could
help establish the book's lineage.
From what he could learn on exami-
nation, he could not even be posi-
tive that the book had been
printed; some unknown method may
have been used to impress the
characters onto the pages. The
pages themselves were not paper
conveyed by the symbols was unde-
terminable; the language, if indeed
it was one, was irrevocably lost, at
least in any place where man might
be found. As it was, one didn't
need a translation to perceive the
hideous suggestiveness of the de-
sign. Perhaps it was the strange
emphasis given to certain of the
more subtle details. . . .

or parchment, and Howard was not Quickly, Howard performed sev-

sure he ever wanted to know ex-
"
actly what they were made of.
Leaving the dark volume resting
on the study desk in its wrappings,
Howard moved to the far end of the
room, where a ceiling-high set of
bookcases stood. Reaching to the
center cases, he pressed a small
stud in the molding; a muffled
click was heard, and the two cen-
tral cases swung outward on oiled
hinges, revealing a small alcove.
Within its depths stood a rounded
piece of stone, with curious stains
evident even in the gloom, which
went undispelled by the study's
light. Two brass candlestick hold-
ers stood, one to either side of the
stone, with massive candles set in
each. Like the book covers, the
candlesticks showed bizarre de-
signs. The effort Howard had ex-
pended in obtaining the holders had
been monumental; even now several
obscure cults would probably have
killed him in singularly unpleasant
ways had they known the where-
abouts of the holders. Like the
pages of the book, the candles were
made of some extraordinary sub-
stance; Howard suspected human
fat. A small cushioned board for
kneeling, and a stand for holding
the book, completed the furnishings
of the alcove. In a small holder in
the back of one of the bookcases
were several singular instruments;
some of the rituals described in the
book demanded unusual actions and
accessories. The most prominent
was a silver knife, partially
sheathed in black velvet. Symbols
curiously suggestive of writing of
some sort were engraved on the
blade and impressed on the carven
handle. Whatever message, whether
eral ritualized gestures in front of
the altar stone, and bowed thrice.
He then retrieved the book, and
placed it reverently on the stand in
front of the stone, opening it to a
particular place he seemed to have
in mind. Deftly, he removed sev-
eral of the instruments from their
places, including the knife. No
"sacrifices" would be necessary for
what he had in mind, but both the
knife and the utensils were neces-
sary as props in the formula he in-
tended to perform. The instruments
he arranged on the floor next to
where he would kneel; the knife
he placed on the book, across the
pages he intended to read. If all
went well tonight, he would have
to be well-prepared; the forces he
intended to invoke did not allow for
mistakes. He put out of his mind
the picture of what had been de-
scribed to him as the fate of those
who had miscalculated, and contin-
ued with the exercises.
Swiftly, as he recited the Words
of Power, his finger traced a pen-
tacle on the surface of the stone
altar, which immediately glowed
with a steady, greenish light that
seemed to pulsate with uncanny
rhythm. Howard's voice was steady,
his motions sure. The ritual de-
scribed by the book was one ena-
bling the user to gain knowledge so
as to surpass that of the wisest of
men. Howard was not exactly sure
how such enlightenment was to come
to him, but the glowing pentacle
itself seemed to indicate that what-
ever was to happen could very well
be lethal if he was not careful.
Howard was very careful.
Thrice the formula on the el-
dritch pages resounded, his hand
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 15

cutting the air in disturbing

fig- closer examination of the text was
ures with the knife as Howard per- clearly called for.
formed the ceremony. The lan- The glow of the pentacle died
guage was at best gutteral, its out fitfully as Howard replaced the
syllables most certainly never meant ritual implements in their places,
for human speech. Each of the in- and extinguished the massive can-
struments Howard had prepared had dles. Leaving the alcove, book
its use and he applied them with a under one arm, Howard closed the
familiarity borne of long study and bookcase door, a muffled click the
practice. only sound in the stillness. There
After what seemed an indeter- was no point in continuing tonight;
minate period of chants and not, at least, without greater
prayers, Howard paused. If any- knowledge of just what it was he
thing was to happen, now was the was trying to do. Too many such
moment. The air was heavy with as he had displayed overconfidence
anticipation as Howard strained his in such endeavors in the past and
senses to detect a response to his subsequently paid for their mis-
spell placed enthusiasm in singularly un-
Yet there was nothing. No wind, pleasant ways. And, after all,
no crickets, no passing cars. Noth- there was still an enormous amount
ing. Only a silence that was almost of correspondence to attend to.
deafening in its intensity. The book Howard sighed resignedly as he re-
had not been too specific as to just wrapped the book, and replaced it
what was to happen once the spell in its hidden receptacle. He would
was cast. It had only noted, in just have to put off the experiment
syllables unpronounceable to human to a later date.
tongues, that extreme caution was
* * *
to be exercised in the performance
of the bizarre ritual. The transla-
tion was somewhat clouded beyond The street lights seemed
that as to the results of the spell; strangely muffled, barely managing
only that great knowledge and to illuminate the roadway, and only
power would be made available to fleetingly able to penetrate the
any who were prepared to do what gloom surrounding the residential
was "necessary." buildings of the neighborhood.
But the results were nil. How- Which was just as well, Dickie Ram-
ard could detect no change in his sey thought, as he and his brother
surroundings; even the faint light Bill crouched in the bushes along-
of the glowing pentacle remained. side a likely prospect. The two of
Failure. Reluctantly, Howard stood them had been casing the area for
up, closing the book as he did so. a nice quiet neighborhood to heist
While he had experienced failure in for weeks before happening on this
the past, he was nevertheless keen- one. They had already hit two of
ly disappointed. Somewhere, some- the dozen or so homes in the imme-
how, he was missing some vital in- diate vicinity and intended on fin-
gredient, some part of the incanta- ishing off the rest before the month
tion central to the success of the was out. They were good, real
invoker. But, thinking back over good; the cops had no idea who was
what he knew, Howard could not behind the robberies, and Dickie
imagine what had gone wrong. Fur- would see to it that they never did.
ther study of the strange tome Bill was good at safe-cracking and
would be called for. Unfortunately, strong-arm stuff, but Dickie was
while Howard had had no trouble the brains. Didn't he plug those
translating the text literally, the two gumshoes who were onto them
full meaning of what he had read in Phillie?
was often unfathomable. Consider- But they had more important
ing the book's probable origin, this business right now. The joint right
was not too surprising. Yes, a next to them. Only some queer
 .

16 / Crypt of Cthulhu

duck and an old lady. Easy Street, tied up. A rustling of silverware
for sure. Must be loaded. These and plates could be heard nearby;
oddballs usually faked poverty; evidently someone was in the kitch-
probably had a mattress stuffed en. Might as well have the "cele-
with cabbage stowed somewhere. bration" there as any place. Mo-
Well, if the guy didn't cough it up. tioning with his head towards the
. . Dickie punched one calloused
. doorway, Dickie proceeded forward,
fist into the other hand, evidently skirting the numerous books and
with the satisfaction of long and papers scattered about. Bill fol-
successful experience. Of course. lowed close behind.
Bill would do all the "persuadin'" A slight movement caught Bill's
needed. And, from what they had eye; turning, he saw the curl of
seen of the guy, not much would be smoke that Dickie had noted earlier.
necessary He could have sworn that there had
But now to work. Cautiously, been less of the stuff when he had
Dickie raised himself to the level of looked earlier. Dickie nudged him
the window just next to him. No in the ribs; shrugging, he turned
one. Just a bunch of books on to go. Dickie had all the brains;
shelves, and an old battered desk if he wasn't concerned, there was
covered with papers. No sign of no reason for himself to get worked
the owner; must be somewhere in up. Anyway, what could smoke do?
the house. Just as well; it'll be Looking around the corner of
easier to take'm when they're both the study door, Dickie noted a
inside. With almost imperceptible short hall with several doors on
motion, Dickie pushed upwards on either side. At the far end, Dickie
the window frame, gently at first, could hear the movements of the
and then with greater force as the kitchen occupant, preparing some
window slid silently open. This was sort of meal. Must be a real nut,
almost too easy. A small curl of eatin' at this hour; most folks'd be
smoke caught his eye in one corner in bed right now, easy pickings.
of the room, behind an overstuffed No matter; Bill would handle him
chair. Probably an ash tray, noth- OK. Motioning Bill forward, Dickie
ing to worry about. crept down the short hall, with
The air of the room had a Bill along the opposite wall. They
strange smell; an old smell, of an- paused at the kitchen doorway,
tique paper. "This guy must be Dickie sneaking a quick look around
some sort of professor or some- the corner. He was there, all
thin'," Dickie thought, scanning the right, emptying a can of spaghetti
rows of books crowded into the into a saucepan, apparently oblivi-
shelves and piled around the desk. ous to the rest of the world. A
He had never seen so many books really queer duck:
slender, lan-
in one place before; outside of a tern-jawed, wrapped in some sort
library, that is. Outside of li- of bathrobe. Hardly the type to be
braries, that's where Dickie liked any real trouble.
to be. Learning made him nervous. Bill glanced quickly behind him-
Now heistin', he knew. self; something was wrong. He
"Give me a boost. Bill," he could see nothing of the study to
growled. Bill winced for an in- their rear. Only the faintest rus-
stant, then applied the needed as- tling reached his ears. And he
sistance. In a moment, he was in couldn't even be sure of that; a
and Bill right behind him. whisper would have been louder.
Slowly they made their way No matter now. Dickie was signal-
across the study, towards the ing a rush.
doorway at the far side. The With a speed surprising due to
night's "entertainment," as they his great size. Bill rushed the
liked to think of it, couldn't begin robed figure still occupied at the
until their "guests" were present stove. In an instant, both Bill and
and/or accounted for. And neatly Dickie were upon him; the man
 "

Yuletide 1987 / 17

struggled briefly, but to no avail. Howard watched the search,

He desisted upon observing the sickened at heart. There was noth-
wicked-looking blade Dickie dis- ing he could do to prevent what
played in the vicinity of his throat. was happening, and the two didn't
"One move and yer a corpse," seem like the type who would be-
Dickie growled. lieve him, no matter what he said.
"OK, OK, you win," the man He had to think of something fast.
stuttered. "Take what you want, It was then that Howard noticed
just don't hurt me." the peculiar smoke drifting through
The stranger had immediately the door. Strange, the odors that
ceased struggling, but both Dickie came to him didn't smell like smoke;
and Bill could feel the tenseness in they seemed to have a curious, sul-
the man's body as they tightened furic scent. Curious: didn't smell
their grip. like A shudder ran through
a fire.
"Now that's more like it," Dickie him. It had struck him as to ex-
answered, as they moved the man actly what the smoke was. "Ah,
to a kitchen chair. Producing a gentlemen ..."
length of rope from under his coat. "Yeah, what is it? Ya decided
Bill expertly tied the man down, to talk, eh?" Dickie clamped one
leaving him virtually immobile. hand on Howard's shoulder. "OK,
"Now, we want all yer money. out with it; where's the dough?"
Ya know, cash, jewels, watches. "In my study, in a concealed
And fast, too, if ya know what's panel," Howard replied. His strain-
good for ya .
ing ears could make out a curious
"There's no money, but you can shuffling sound coming from the
have what you want." study. It seemed to get louder,
"Now you don't think that Billy- as if it were approaching the kitch-
boy and really believe that, do
I en. The smoke fairly billowed now,
ya?" Dickie snarled, lowering his an acrid stench filling the room.
face until it was just an inch away Dickie looked around in alarm.
from the prisoner's. "Ya better "What's that?" he cried, seeing the
talk fast, or my brother there fumes billowing from the hallway
might get nervous. He does funny door. The sounds were more audi-
things with a knife when he gets ble now, a steady shuffling sound,
nervous. Real funny things, if you matched by the groan of floor-
get my drift. Don't ya. Bill?" boards as whatever it was ap-
Bill smiled a most discomforting proached. There was also the
smile. "Sure do, Dickie. And I'm sound of heavy breathing, a rasp-
a little nervous right now." And ing noise that filled the room.
he was. He didn't mention the Dickie had turned completely
smoke he saw coming into the white. "Let's get the hell outta
kitchen door. Just a little right here!" he screamed. He didn't
now, but increasing steadily. Some- budge, however; he seemed to be
thing was wrong. rooted to the floor. Bill made as
Bill relaxed a little, though, as if to escape out the kitchen door,
Dickie motioned him to search the mewing sounds issuing from his
kitchen. Now that he knew some- throat. The stench filled the
thing about. Rapidly he searched, kitchen, and the whole house trem-
pulling out drawers and emptying bled as the shuffling became a
their contents on the floor, empty- heavy thumping. A fetid stench
ing the cupboards, and generally filled the kitchen, and the smoky
making a mess of things, and hav- clouds blinded all. Something
ing the time of his life. He didn't brushed against Howard; he fell
find anything, though. Dickie let over backwards, striking his head
him continue to scrounge. Some- against the floor. As he slipped
thing might turn up, and, if noth- into unconsciousness, it occurred
ing else, their "guest" might to Howard that whatever had
change his mind. brushed against him had had a
18 / Crypt of Cthulhu

scaly, almost reptillian texture to

it. . . .

* * *
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ateness, he opened his eyes, while Shudder Stories #2 $4.00
reaching to his forehead. Damp- Shudder Stories #3 $4.00
ness. He lowered his hand; there Shudder Stories #4 $4.00
were smears of red. And streaks Shudder Stories #6 $4.50
of white as well. He stirred, groan- Shudder Stories #7 $4.50
ing as he attempted to raise him-
self. Apparently he was no longer Risque Stories #1 $4.00
tied up; he got to his feet, gin- Risque Stories #2 $4.00
Risque Stories #3 $4.00
gerly leaning against the table. He
noted the clock against the wall: Risque Stories #5 $4.50
6 a.m. He had been unconscious The Coming of El Borak
for The entire kitch-
quite a while. by Robert E. Howard . . $5.00
en was mess; and among the
a Two-Fisted Detective Stories
ruins there were blood-stained by Robert E. Howard $4.50 . .

pieces of something he didn't even The Adventures of Lai Singh

want to think of. In spite of his by Robert E. Howard $3.00 . .

throbbing head, he had to smile to Pay Day by Robert E.

himself. The spell seemed to have Howard $3.50
worked; the only problem had been Lewd Tales by Robert E.
in the timing. And, for once, Howard $4.00
things had worked in his favor. Of
course, before he had the repair-
Cromlech: The Journal of
Robert E. Howard Criti-
men come in and fix things up, he
cism #1 $4.50
would have to clean up the place a
Cromlech: The Journal of
bit. No sense in inviting questions
Robert E. Howard Criti-
he couldn't answer. The two
cism #2 $4.50
thieves might be missed by some-
one, but he doubted it seriously. Lurid Confessions #1 . . . . $4.00
Of course, some of his friends
Astro- Ad ventures #2 . . . . $4.50
might inquire as to what he had
been up to; he would have to make Tales of Lovecraftian
up something. Fortunately, he was Horror $4.00
rather good at that sort of thing.
Revelations from Yuggoth . $4.50
He could imagine the letter he
would write. He would tell them Verses Dedicatory by
how the ceiling fell in and banged Lord Dunsany, Lin
poor "Grandpa" on the head; he Carter (ed. ) $2.00
would not mention the strange,
History S Chronology of
clawlike marks in the ceiling, mark-
the Book of Eibon by
ings tinted with streaks of red.
Lin Carter $1.00

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 Yuletide 1987 / 19

^/Ae is4lan "iV/io ^<Meote</ ^owe<yMife

By Philip Weber

had come to the small secluded

I me I'd felt a slight twinge of pain
Providence cemetery that day to on my left ankle. Still standing in
visit a long departed but not for- the road, I pulled my sock down
gotten friend. Gazing on the sim- and noticed a small trickle of blood
ple granite monument which marked oozing two punctate wounds.
from
the entombment of his flesh, I Cursing searched for
to myself, I

turned and made my way through the cat it and saw

sitting on the
the maze of headstones
similar curb across the street. It then
whose shadows
had begun to casually walked into a small shop. I

lengthen in the midafternoon sun. quickly followed, vowing to take

Living about seventy miles out- revenge either with its owner or
side of the city, had spent the
I more preferably with it; for you
last four years teaching at a small see hate cats!
I

community college. My initial choice Entering the shop immediately I

for taking the position, after com- spied the beast nestled in the arms
pleting graduate school, was its of a dark haired man who looked to
proximity to Providence and the be about thirty. He wore a neatly
final resting place of one whose trimmed black beard, had a long
stories and memoirs have made such straight nose and peered out at me
a lasting impression on my life. from deeply set dark eyes. Before
The cemetery gate groaned rust- I had a chance to say anything he
ily as exited and turned one last
I spoke.
time. Lying upon the grass cov- "I saw everything that happened
ered earth which had been stand-
I and would like to apologize for
I

ing on not two minutes previously Ezzie's behavior. He has a bad

was an orange and black tabby cat. habit of sneaking up on people . .

I smiled sardonically knowing his II

love for cats and that he wouldn't "Has Ezzie had his rabies shot?"
mind at all to have it bask a while I interrupted sarcastically.
above him. "Why, yes, about two months
Rituals in life as well as in ago. He ...
he didn't bite you
death can be things of comfort. My did he?"
infrequent pilgrimages always left angry
Still pulled down my I

me ravenous, so not to break the sock show him the partially

to
tradition, stopped at the same
I clotted wound.
little restaurant located three blocks "Ezzie, how could you!" He ad-
from the cemetery. ordered a I monished and popped the cat smart-
large steak and two glasses of ly on the rump. It sprang from
house wine. his grasp and backed itself into a
My hunger assuaged, drained I corner, hissing, its yellow eyes
the last few drops of wine from my filled with hate.
glass, left a modest tip, paid my "Nice pet you've got there,
bill and was about to get in my car Mr. ..."
when a cat darted out from between "The name's Schwartz, Nathan
my legs, almost knocking me over. Schwartz." He walked over to
A passing car squealed its brakes where stood and we shook hands
I

to avoid hitting the cat as it raced informally. introduced myself as

I

away. It had evidently been un- Mark Richards.

derneath my car and my opening "Mr. Richards, am extremely I

the door had frightened it, sur- I sorry. Please, look around the
mised . shop and if you see anything you
As the feline beast scurried past like, anything at all, it's yours." I
 . "

20 / Crypt of Cthulhu

hadn't paid much attention to the visit grave, which I'm sure
to his
contents of the place. It was a you know just up the street."
is
somewhat cluttered antique and sec- "Thank
you for the compliment,"
ond-hand store. It contained some he said as he placed the cat on the
old heavy furniture; tables, dress- floor. "From time to time someone
ers, desks and the like. rather I interested in Lovecraft finds his
hurriedly walked through the shop, way to me. have devoted my life
I

heading for the back, trying to to the collection of his works and
find some way to excuse myself the preservation of his memory. All
when came to a bookcase. Taking
I modesty aside, consider myselfI

a casual glance at several titles I one of the foremost experts on

was somewhat surprised to find H. P. Lovecraft's writings and life.
nothing but works of writers deal- I've even gone so far as to write a
ing in the macabre and fantastic. few poor pastiches based on his
More intently began to study the I stories.
accumulation of old books. The A melancholy quality had entered
works of Edgar Allan Poe, Ambrose his voice and his eyes had a
Bierce, Lord Dunsany, J. S. Le- dreamy glaze as he spoke. He
Fanu, Algernon Blackwood, and quickly recovered his composure
C. A. Smith were all well repre- and repeated, "See anything you
sented. But search as would I I like?"
could find nothing by that one "Well, yes, but couldn't ask I

troubled genius that Providence you to part with any of these," in-
claims as its own. was about to I dicating the contents of the display
comment to Schwartz on this egre- case.
gious omission when saw a collec- I "Nonsense, that nasty bite on
tion of old pulp magazines neatly the leg has to be worth something.
arranged in a glass display case. I tellyou what. Since we seem to
Iwalked over to it and found it be kindred spirits in our admiration
filled with the works of one author: for Lovecraft, if you're willing to
H. P. Lovecraft, my spiritual men- take a forty-five minute drive, I

tor and the man whom had come I will allow you to look through my
to Providence today to pay my personal collection which far sur-
respects to. passes anything you see here,"
On bended knee peered with I making a sweeping gesture to in-
envy through the clear glass. A clude everything in the shop.
small placard read "Complete First Letting my curiosity take control
Publications of H. P. Lovecraft." I readily agreed. spent the next I

Within the case were approximately hour or so perusing the shelves

forty pulp magazines whose garrish and taking mental note of the
front covers proudly displayed his things might be interested in re-
I

name. turning for at a later date.

was so engrossed in the perus-
I We conversed on and off when-
al of these treasures that hadn't I ever could think of some hard-
I

noticed Schwartz standing behind gleaned fact or anecdote about

me until heard a loud purring
I Lovecraft. My statements seemed
noise. Somewhat startled spun I to amuse him. Stroking his beard
around to find him holding that and smiling he would either agree
damn cat in his arms, gently rub- and add a few insights of his own
bing its heid. or totally disagree, quoting articles
"See anything you like?" he or portions of stories to contradict
asked me. had always been able to hold
I

Answering rather sheepishly, "I my own

in any conversation on
have never seen such a fine collec- Lovecraft but Schwartz's depth of
tion of Lovecraft's works. have a I knowledge on the subject left me
few of his things myself, but noth- dumbfounded. I'm sure at times
ing like this. As a matter of fact he thought me a cretin.
while was in town today
I paid a I Jogging my memory recalled I
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 21

reading a story by Schwartz pub- repeatedly by sinuous shafts of

lished a semiprofessional maga-
in lightning which momentarily blinded
zine. was entitled "Lurker From
It me as tried to follow Schwartz
I

Beyond The Crypt" or something to through the rain choked streets.

that effect and remembered think-
I The downpour was so intense at
ing it quite good. A rather grue- times that I feared for my safety
some tale having the proper atmos- and would have pulled to the curb
phere and build-up of suspense, had I not been afraid of losing
making it stand above the other him.
stories it accompanied. Not wanting He drove like a mad man, dart-
to run out of things to talk about I ing down side streets whose antique
decided to ask him about it later at looming houses seemed to mock us
his home. as we hastened by in the rain. Up
The cat Ezzie had free run of one street, accelerate so as not to
the shop. More than once had I lose him. Hit the brakes, skid to
caught it peeking out at me from a stop. Turn again, accelerate,
behind one of the pieces of antique double clutch, brake, turn; his tail
furniture which were scattered lights always visible in the dis-
about. Having tried several times tance. Windshield wipers full speed,
to coax it to me in an overture of clapping time; not fast enough to
friendship, without success, de- I completely clear the glass before
cided to give up. Besides, my the next sheet of rain descended.
ankle still hurt and hadn't com- I The houses and buildings wavered
pletely given up the idea of having and undulated through the wind-
my way with it. also had aI shield as oncoming headlights
sneaking suspicion that the cat in pierced my retinas, leaving yellow
the graveyard and Ezzie were one spots before my eyes as they
and the same. passed
Looking through the large pic- Just when I thought I couldn't
ture window the front of the
at go any farther we reached the out-
shop noticed that the sky had be-
I skirts of the city and a stretch of
gun to grow ominous. Dark clouds straight road. pressed the ac-I

began piling up and muffled claps celerator to the floor and prayed
of thunder echoed in the distance. that my worn tires would hold me
The wind gusted bits of paper and to the pavement. stayed on I

debris about the road. Schwartz's tail 'til we reached his

"I like a good storm, don't you, house.
Mr. Richards?" thundered Schwartz, Pulling into the driveway, lined
"It puts me in the mood." by large unkempt evergreens, got I

A bit startled by the intensity my first look at his home as our

of his voice turned to find him
I headlights momentarily lit the front
standing directly behind me. He of the large Victorian structure. It
seemed more animated than I had sat back about a hundred yards
seen him before. His eyes were from the road and as we approached
fixed upon me like a wild animal I could see that the house, once a
about to pounce, sending a shudder thing of pride and beauty, had
up my spine. fallen into disrepair. A wide an-
Realizing thatstorm was
the tique veranda, missing portions of
about to break Schwartz hurriedly its woodwork, wrapped itself ser-
prepared to close the shop. Hav- pentinely around the house. Large
ing taken all the money from the areas of paint had peeled away from
cash register and checking all the the exterior, leaving it blotched
doors and windows, he picked up and sick looking. The unlit vacant
the cat and we left by the front windows, overgrown shrubbery and
door. Before we could reach our crumbling masonry gave the place
cars it had begun to rain; gently an air of utter despair.
at first and then in torrents. Pulling into a small carport we
The storm-blackened sky was lit made a mad, rain-soaked dash for
 . "

22 / Crypt of Cthulhu

the house. Once inside Schwartz imparted a musty odor to the room.
turned on the lights and we quickly He had not been exaggerating when
shed our sodden jackets. Taking he boasted about his collection. The
our drenched outer garments, sheer volume of works contained in
Schwartz excused himself saying he the room was mind-boggling, but
would take them to the back of the the fact that they were all of one
house, where they would dry quick- particular category, that being the
ly, and bring us some refreshments. bizarre and malign, literally took
The cat had gotten its share of my breath away. was drawn to
I

the rain, too. Its matted wet fur several old and crumbling volumes
clung tightly to its body making it placed by themselves. Picking up
look ridiculously thin weasel and the largest of the books, wasI

like. It shook itself several times taken aback but really shouldn't
in an effort to dry off and splat- have been surprised to find that in
tered my already wet pants leg. my hand held the dread Necro -
I

Finding myself alone for the mo- nomicon authored by that mad
,

ment decided to look around. The

I Arab, Abdul Alhazred. For its
lone overhead light cast dense size it was inordinately light. I

shadows down the long hallway. I felt a compulsion to open it but its
was pleasantly surprised to find reputation was so sinister and evil
that the interior contrasted marked- that I hastily reshelved it. The
ly with its exterior appearance. frightful Book of Eibon and the
The central hallway was flanked horrific De Vermis Mysteriis were
by four rather spacious rooms, sandwiched between the Necronomi-
all containing furniture many con and another volume of unspeak-
generations old. Two brightly able lore, the Celaeno Fragments .

colored Oriental covered the rugs Deciding to limit my search to

hardwood floor of the hall and a less formidable material, moved to
I

banistered stairway on the right a section containing the works of

led up to the second floor. Lord Dunsany. Inspection of sev-
My exploration was cut short by eral of the books revealed that the
Schwartz's return. He was carry- inside dust jacket had been signed
ing two wine glasses filled with a by Dunsany himself. One of these
deep red liquid. read "To my good friend Ezekiel
Handing me a glass he said, "I'm Schwartz .

very partial to wine. hope you I

like it, it's my favorite." Then as Turning with open book to

an afterthought he continued, "I Schwartz asked, "Who is Ezekiel
I

make no apologies for the decrepi- Schwartz?"

tude the house has fallen into. I Answering with an amused smile,
really prefer it this way. The "He was my uncle. All these books
structure is sound, really, and its belonged to him, as did the house
neglected decayed appearance keeps and grounds. He was devoted to
most people away, giving me the the writings of Dunsany and met
privacy to do as please. I him once when he toured America.
"Now I'll show you what I They corresponded off and on for
brought you here for. Please fol- years, as he did with many of the
low me to the library." writers who shared his interests.
followed him, sipping on the
I Lovecraft included. If you look
wine as we went; its pleasant fruity here you will find many of these old
taste was a delight to the palate. pulp magazines autographed. Here,
"This is where 1 work and take a look."
study. Have a look around," he Motioning for me to approach, he
said and seated himself behind a handed me a copy of Weird Tales
large mahogany desk beside an unlit magazine which was inscribed on
fireplace the front cover, "To a True Be-
The library wall was lined by liever," and signed "HPL."
bookcases filled by volumes which "This is simply fantastic," I
 : . "

Yuletide 1987 / 23

said. "Any collector of Weird Tales story that without doubt would
would pay a lot to have a copy equal any that are contained within
autographed by Lovecraft." Having the volumes in this library."
made this profound statement I Again the cat "spoke" and I

drained my glass, feeling the warm emptied my glass in one gulp. The
glow of the wine as it heated my fruity fragrance was pleasantly tan-
insides. was beginning to feel
I talizing but the scent of the poppy
quite high and euphoric being flower was very strong. In a min-
among so many kindred spirits. ute my inebriation was complete and
"Yes, you are probably right. I felt drained of my inner resolve.
Here, Mr. Richards, your glass is Schwartz silently motioned me to
empty. We can't have that. Eze- an overstuffed armchair. Feeling
kiel, you keep Mr. Richards com- that had been drugged,
I tried to I

pany while fetch more wine."

I resist his unuttered command. I

Before could protest, Schwartz

I gripped the edge of the table with
had removed the empty glass from all my strength; my fingernails
my hand. He exited the room, blanched under the strain. stood I

leaving me alone with the cat. this way for perhaps a minute,
As if it knew to take charge, afraid to take the proffered seat
the cat Ezekiel, rather tastelessly to hear a story in which felt I I

named for Nathan's late uncle, was to take a part.

commenced to walk around the pe- Turning to the cat Schwartz
riphery of the room next to the said, "This one is strong, Ezekiel.
bookcases which lined the walls. You have made a good choice.
With its tail haughtily lashing back Please help Mr. Richards to his
and forth it pranced around the seat.
entire room, seemingly full of self As if it had understood, the cat
pride. casually strolled across the desk
Suddenly it jumped upon the top and stopped at where my aching
desk and made a whining utterance, hands held me in place. It gently
opening and closing its mouth to licked my little finger and then
modulate the sound, which seemed grasped sharp white teeth,
it in its
startlingly close to human speech. gradually applying pressure until
Feeling a sudden compulsion, I the pain was too much to bear. My
approached the desk to find the cat right hand dropped from the desk
standing atop several sheets of and then the left when similar force
smudged paper which were covered was applied.
by sprawling handwriting. A type- I was still standing in place
writer, loaded with paper, sat on when the cat nimbly dropped to the
the desk and it appeared as though floor at my feet and gave me a
the text of the handwritten manu- sharp bite on the calf.
script was being transcribed on the Ilet out a muffled groan and
typewriter knowing that in the end would I

Ezekiel gave another eery utter- have to sit, decided to spare my-
I

ance and found myself walking

I self any further pain. As dropped I

around to the front of the desk to into my seat, Schwartz began his
read what had been transcribed. It story.
read "You have probably already
"'Know there are far worse
that grasped that my uncle was a man
things than Death and that those of peculiar habits and tastes. He
who are cursed to spend even one was a man unafraid to look behind
second as the undead suffer a tor- the pleasantries of life, undaunted
ment worse than a lifetime in Hell.'" by the prospect of Death. Be-
Before could continue reading
I cause he knew that Death could be
Schwartz entered the library with defeated! Not in the hollow spirit-
another glass of wine. Placing it ual sense as you might think,
in my hand he said, "Drink this, through the teachings of the World
Mr. Richards, and will tell you a I Religions. No, not that way. You
 . "

24 / Crypt of Cthulhu

see, Uncle Ezekiel Schwartz was a back !

Wizard, a Sorcerer, a Necromancer, In my drug-induced stupor I sat

if you like, and had usurped even immobile yet heard every word per-
the power to overcome Death. fectly. The cat was before me on
"In this age of the computer the floor; its terrible yellow eyes
chip and quantum mechanics he was held me in a powerful hypnotic
an anachronism, totally out of step stare. Schwartz paused briefly and
with inventions like the artificial then continued his fantastic tale.
heart and surgical procedures of "Late on the night following
organ transplantation. Through Lovecraft's burial my uncle stole
many lives, through many transmi- into the cemetery, dug up the loos-
grations he has practiced his craft ened earth which covered his cof-
until this present age of disbelief fin, removed Lovecraft's body,
whose skepticism is so pervasive filled in the grave and brought his
that even he felt threatened. corpse to this house where it has
"He had foreseen all that was to resided for almost fifty years. Old
come as he felt the almost impercep- Ezekiel hoped he might save Love-
tible flagging of his powers coincide craft even yet!
with the rise of Science and 'Mod- "I came
live with my uncle
to
ern Medicine.' He began to isolate some years ago at his re-
eight
himself more and more from the so- quest. him uncle but he is
I call
ciety amid which he felt more and not my father's brother. No! The
more the outsider. He cloistered generations that have passed since
himself away within this house, his birth can hardly be counted.
conserving his energy, determined But we are related, of this he had
to wait for the day when belief in assured me. And because we were
the supernatural and occult would of the same blood he took an inter-
return est in me. can still remember the
I

"Uncle Ezekiel turned to those night he came to my college dormi-

who shared his beliefs, many of tory and introduced himself as my
whose writings abound in this father's prodigal brother come to
room. One after another he sought make amends. We talked long into
them out and invariably suffered the night. He told me incredible
profound disappointment and rejec- stories about my ancestral heritage;
tion whenthey refused to believe some of which knew but most
I I

in him. All save one: Lovecraft, had never heard before. He told
that courageous soul who, too, spat the stories with such vividness and
in the face of Death. They con- in such detail, it seemed he must
versed long and regularly over have lived for centuries to have
many a volume of ancient and for- accumulated all his facts. In that
gotten lore. You should know that one night he totally captured my
'Herbert West Reanimator' and The soul. Without telling my parents I

Case of Charles Dexter Ward were went to visit him between semesters
largely inspired by conversations and have been with him ever since.
Lovecraft had with my uncle. "I became his pupil. His appren-
"But in the end, Lovecraft was tice if you like. When he told me
unable to accept my uncle for what of his true nature was able to ac-
I

he really was. The cancerous cept it. He taught me much of his

growth which finally robbed him of ancient craft, and much have I

his life could have been dealt with learned on my own.

if only he had confided in Uncle "About two years ago he began
Ezekiel. But Lovecraft was a proud suffering from angina. His symp-
man and didn't tell him of his ill- toms of heart disease became pro-
ness until it was too late. With gressively worse and believe he I

tears in my eyes, have listened

I actually suffered two small heart
many times of how he grieved the attacks. It was at this time that
night of his dear friend's passing he told me that his body was dying
and how he vowed to bring him and that a new host had to be
 !

Yuletide 1987 / 25

found quickly. offered myself as I A loud crack of thunder sounded

the vessel to hold his spirit but he directly overhead and the lights
said that was not his plan. He had flickered, suddenly breaking my
already selected a suitable host, a captor's attention. wanted noI

young man both handsome and ro- part of this sick charade. Making
bust. was to act as his interme-
I a feeble effort to rise, felt my I

diary; to facilitate his transmigra- arms and legs spasmodically re-

tion and to help him through the spond. Like a flash, the cat leapt
adjustment period until he could from the floor at my feet and
take full possession of his new clamped its mouth on my neck. I

body. felt the pulsation of my jugular vein

"But as they say, 'The best in its grasp and knew that if did I

laid The
plans ofttimes go astray.' not reseat myself it would sever
time was fast approaching when the the vessel with its powerful fangs.
change was to take place. had I "Now, Mr. Richards, please do
left the house on an errand and not attempt to flee. My uncle does
upon my return found my uncle ly- not want to damage you. am 1

ing on the floor of this very room surprised at your continued resis-
dead! His faithful cat lay tance, an admirable trait but fool-
prostrate at his side. ish. The hypnotic drug placed I

"Ipanicked. How could this in your wine was sufficient to have

have happened? was beside my- I incapacitated two men your size.
self with grief, having let my uncle Another indication that Uncle has
die by not being there when he made a fitting choice.
needed me! cursed myself, know-
I "There, the truth is out! You
ing full well that my powers of are to host the spirit of Ezekiel
Necromancy were insufficient to stir Schwartz for his next transmigra-
him to life. tion! Think of it! How envy I

"As I wept over the lifeless body you, Mr. Richards. My uncle will
of my uncle, his faithful cat stirred be such a splendid Master. His
itself and sat drunkenly up. I powers are vast and you will share
picked it up and cradled it in my in the knowledge gained through
arms. It meowed and when looked I the ages, and in knowledge beyond
at it I was
held by its powerful the scope of Mankind.
hypnotic stare, a gaze which before "Uncle is anxious to start a new
had been peculiar to my uncle! life and you will furnish him with
Could it be true? How could I the body to do just that. Your
know for sure? cooperation, although not neces-
"There was a chance. searched I sary, is preferable. He can be
his body and found a small syringe very generous, Mr. Richards. He
hidden in his hand, the same sy- will know the things that you want
ringe which he always carried. Ex- and get them for you. But, just
amining it, I noticed traces of dried as a coin has two sides, disobedi-
blood and knew that in his last ence and resistance will have its
desperate seconds before his heart price.
stopped. Uncle Ezekiel had injected "Ezekiel has had his eye on you
his essence into the cat! The trans- for many months, observing you
ference had been completed whenever you came to the grave-
"As days turned into weeks and yard. His powers of suggestion
my uncle's control over his new and manipulation are formidable.
host became complete, he began It was a simple matter for him to
trying to communicate with the will you to stop at the restaurant
pitifully inadequate feline vocal once he had implanted a ravenous
cords. Strange to say but within a hunger within you. His luring you
short time he was able to make him- into my shop was child's play. The
self understood to me. Can you not tricky part was getting you to come
testify that he has spoken to you here. think
I I did quite well,
tonight?" don't you?"
26 / Crypt of Cthulhu

Was mad? I Could this really be add a realistic touch to this diabolic
happening? kept expecting to
I farce. The pungent aroma of form-
awaken from this terrible night- aldehyde was also present. knew I

mare. Of course, knew had

I I the odor well from school, yet its
been drugged and that Schwartz smell was disturbing.
was using my drugged state to At length we arrived at a large
scare me into believing his prepos- wooden door, bolted from the out-
terous tale. But for what purpose? side. Schwartz undid the bolt and
Extortion? Revenge? could think I unlocked the door. He hurriedly
of nothing had ever done to him,
I ushered me and the everpresent
having only met him a few hours feline inside without relocking it.
ago. The cat was real enough and I noticed my visual disturbances
I had no doubt that it and Schwartz had abated somewhat as he turned
could do me real harm, so de- I on the dim overhead light. could I

cided to go along with their pre- faintly make out that we were in a
posterous hoax until saw some I rather large room which seemed to
way to escape. be set up as some type of labora-
"The time is at hand, Mr. Rich- tory.
ards. Uncle Ezekiel grows impa- Schwartz led me to a small bed
tient with expectation. He desires and bade me lie down. Again I

to do
those things that only the tried to resist. Summoning all my
human form can accomplish. Look strength hesitated at the edge of
I

deeply into my eyes. Yes, that is the bed, only to feel the cat tug at
right. Now look at my hand. Good! the flesh of my leg. Again my
I believe you will find that you can powers of resistance were insuffi-
now move, though with some diffi- cient to overcome the commands of
culty. Get out of the chair and these two repugnant creatures.
walk to the bookcase." As lay down on the crumpled
I

With a touch of his hand the bedspread suddenly felt the enor-
I

bookcase swung open, revealing mity of my predicament. began to I

steps leading downward. As ap- I tremble with fear as the room grew
proached I rush of cold,
felt the dim about me. screamed with ter-
I

dank air on my face. Another ror, trying to remain conscious.

odor, that of rot and decay, could When came to,
I found both my I

be faintly discerned. I hesitated wrists bound by sturdy hemp

at the brink and felt the gnawing ropes. The overpowering smell of
bite of the cat on my leg. rotting formaldehyde
flesh and
I tried to run but couldn't. helped to clear my head. From my
Schwartz helped me down the flight supine position had an unobstruc-
I

of steps, supporting me on his arm. ted view of Schwartz. He was

Once at the bottom beheld a dimly I standing at a work bench covered
lit passageway through drug-fogged by numerous articles of laboratory
eyes. The floor seemed to ripple glassware. Two lit Bunsen burners
and undulate at my feet as we be- cast an eery blue glow, while oddly
gan our slow journey. The passage- shaped glass retorts and distillation
way had many branches and turns. chambers simmered and boiled.
Like Theseus, searched for some
I Both Schwartz and the cat would
way to mark my passage through scurry back and forth amid the
this labyrinth. Noticing a thin sputtering maelstrom of brightly
layer of undisturbed dust or soil bubbling liquids. Schwartz was
which covered the floor of the other reading from one of the ancient,
passages, marked it and hoped it
I malevolent volumes had seen in I

would prove useful if found the I his library. It appeared to be the

means of escape. Celaeno Fragments and listened as I

The stench-filled air grew more he read aloud.

fetid the farther we progressed "la! hi! Hastur Ph'nqlui !

within the shadow-shrouded maze; mqlw rnafh Hastur Haii wgah'naql

no doubt the odor was provided to fhtaqn .Mutafln uft'elon Hali Cf - 1
 . . !

Yuletide 1987 / 27

ayak, vulqtmm, vuqtlaqln, vulqtmm. pulled upwards; a jacketed arm with

Ja! ]a! Hastur !" thrashing hand came into view. As
After repeating this several Schwartz continued to pull, a fig-
times he began to chant, in a deep ure shrouded in shadows sat erect
bass voice, still reading from the in its coffinlike container, his back
book towards me! My captor continued
"
Magnum Patrium Hastur ! to guide and support the gaunt
"
Regnum De Mundus . form out of its confinement and into
"
Reqnum De Vaccus . a hastily positioned chair. The cat
"Sui Fratres Cthulhu Vincos pranced around the seated figure,
"
Placeo Meus Causam Audis ! winding through its slightly sepa-
"
De Vermis Resutectum Homini . rated legs and meowing those hid-
"
Sum TeHumilis Famulus . eous half-human vocalizations.
"
Placeo Meus Causam Audis I Although could not at first see
I

"
Commuto Aqua Vita the face of the thing from the cof-
"
De Vermis Resurectum Homini I fin, my worst suspicions were con-
The cat, too, seemed to be firmed when Schwartz positioned a
mouthing the words in its own lim- lamp from the workbench to illumi-
ited way. nate its head and upper shoulders.
Schwartz presently saw that I With heart pounding and fear-
had regained consciousness. He crazed convulsions, sought to flee
I

continued chanting for several min- the sight of this unholy resurrec-
utes. The diabolic experiment tion. My eyes were drawn to it. .

seemed to have reached a climax as . .The recognition was instantan-

Schwartz carefully collected various eous and hideous beyond belief!
decanted liquids into a small crys- The gaunt emaciated form with
talline flask. elongated oval face, small mouth
Having apparently completed the and closely deep set eyes was . . .

formulation of the sinister concoc- Lovecraft! There could be no mis-

tion, he carefully walked to an take! Oh, but it was horrible! The
elongated hinged wooden crate, skin of the hands and face was a
flask in hand. Schwartz gingerly ghastly shade of blue-black, broken
lifted the lid, and he and Ezekiel by patches of moldy white. The
peered inside, seeming not to notice eyes had a vacant dead stare and
the fetid odor of corruption that the sclerae were dull and red, im-
was released. Again they began to parting a fiery demonic gaze.
chant. Schwartz poured the fluid It opened its crusted mouth, re-
into the coffin-shaped box and then vealing decay-blackened teeth, and
described a peculiar sign in the air made a desiccated, blood-curdling
with his forefinger. utterance
Unable to determine the signifi- "Why have you brought me
cance of the bizarre proceedings back? Damn you! Damn you both
and being curious as to the con- to Hell!"
tents of the box, pulled myself
I Schwartz again described that
into a sitting position, despite my mysterious necromantic sign in the
restraints. air. The shade of Lovecraft spoke
A minute passed by. And then no more and sat sullenly immobile.
two. Suddenly heard a hollow
I "This is not Mr. Lovecraft's first
rustling which was punctuated by awakening, you see. have quite I

bumps and soft percussions, sound- often put him to work for me! He
ing as if something had stirred to still retains his profound literary
life within. skills, which have occasionally
I

The hair on my head and neck employed in the creation of stories

stood erect as a weird, agonized passed on as my own. Rather iron-
groan was emitted from the box! I ical, must say!
I As a matter of
began to shiver and quake with fact the manuscript on my desk is
fright his most recent effort."
Schwartz reached down and Schwartz laughed heartily at his
28 / Crypt of Cthulhu

own personal triumph over Love- lit burner. Schwartz screamed in

craft. agony, trying to free himself from
"We have brought Lovecraft back the fiery torment.
to witness Uncle's transformation Suddenly, the cat leaped upon
tonight. He has become resistant Lovecraft's shoulders and bit vi-
as of late, throwing frequent vio- ciously into the moldering blackened
lent fits. He may soon have to be skin of his neck. At once Love-
discarded, having outlived his use- craft released the scorched arm and
fulness, if you will excuse the ex- grabbed for the cat. He hurled it
pression . against the wall with a sickening
"Now all that remains is to draw thud; it fell to the floor in a life-
off a small amount of blood from less twisted mass.
Uncle's feline host and inject it into The gas fumes were becoming
you! This requires that your mind overpowering, and gasped for
I

be placed into a more conducive breath as watched the surrealistic

I

state. When you awake the trans- spectacle. Lovecraft turned to look
formation will have begun. envy I at me with berserk menace in his
you, Mr. Richards." eyes. "Come to me," he said. You
Schwartz waved his hand above don't know! We must all die!"
me in that mysterious fashion had I Knowing that each second de- I

witnessed before and lost con- I layed brought me closer to my

sciousness. doom, I leaped for the door. It
awoke with a crash, finding
I was unlocked and burst through,
I

that the bed and myself had been bolting it behind me.
overturned. Feeling that my arms The gas fumes were not strong
were now free pushed the bed
I outside. With difficulty retraced
I

from on top of me, only to have it my footsteps through the dusty im-
shoved roughly back. could hear I prints we had left a short time be-
sounds of a scuffle close by and, fore. After what seemed like hours
pushing the bed away a second of twisting and doubling back
time, was witness to Schwartz and
I through the underground maze, I

the Lovecraft-thing locked in mortal at last came to the steps leading to

combat.
They
tore and gouged, neither
giving the other any quarter.
could hear the reedy rasp of Love-
craft's voice through clenched
teeth. "I told you not to bring me
back, damn you!
livion! Do have to kill you to
I filled laboratory had been ignited
make you understand?"
The monster gave a terrific push
and sent Schwartz hurtling towards
the laboratory workbench. Broken
glassware and boiling liquids were
propelled across the workbench and
freedom.
Suddenly, a muffled explosion
I echoed from deep within the laby-
rinth of tunnels. Dirt descended
in streams through the wooden raf-
ters of the ceiling as a second
I only want ob- detonation was heard. The gas-
by the open flame of the Bunsen
burner, and the heat produced by
the first explosion in turn ignited
the canister of propane.
Black smoke had begun to billow
from the open bookcase as crossed I

spilled onto the floor. One of the the threshold. Crabbing the sheaf
Bunsen burners was extinguished of mold-smudged papers on the
and the sickening smell of propane library table Iraced across the
gas began to fill the room. room, down the hallway and out the
Schwartz, badly cut and bleed- front door.
ing profusely from his face and A light drizzle was falling out-
arms, tried to raise his arm to em- side. Istarted my car and sped
ploy sorcerous powers.
his Love- down the driveway. As passed I

craft, aware of the other's inten- the library window could see that
I

tion, lunged forward, grasped the the flames had spread upstairs.
threatening arm and forced it down Soon, the whole house, its occu-
into the hot blue flame of the other pants, and all its dark secrets
 . , . .. .

Yuletide 1987 / 29

would be consumed. But if not, no matter. The whole

terrible business will at least have
Everything you have just read ended
transpired a mere six days ago, but
those six days have been a living
nightmare for me.
Ithought had escaped the ma- I Preliminary Investigative Report
lignant influence of the Schwartzes State Bureau of Investigation
when the explosion and blaze gutted Providence, Rhode Island
the house where was held cap- I

tive. breathed a sigh of relief

I The extraordinary suicide note
as climbed into bed in the early
I found with the body of Mr. Mark
morning hours following my terrible Richards is to be held as state's
ordeal. Once in bed gathered the I evidence in the arson and double
pages of Lovecraft's manuscript on homicide at the residence of Mr.
my lap and wearily read them. Un- Nathan Schwartz, resident of Paw-
questionably authentic. tucket. Two bodies were removed
I hadn't been asleep for more from the structure, both of which
than an hour when awoke violent- I were burned beyond recognition
ly ill, with flu-like symptoms. My One is believed to be that of Mr.
body ached horribly and was I Nathan Schwartz. The identity of
racked by nausea and vomiting. A the second victim is as yet undeter-
general malaise had overcome me mined. Presumably the remains are
and thought a shower might bring
I those of the Ezekiel Schwartz men-
some relief. tioned in Richards' account. Final
As was lathering myself
I no- I identification is pending dental
ticed a small bruise on the soft analysis. A small animal body was
inner portion of my arm. screamed I also recovered
and collapsed onto the shower stall The suicide note's story of un-
floor! knew! knew what Love-
I I holy resurrections and possessions
craft had meant with his final cryp- may be some sort of elaborate blind
tic cry. to conceal a more mundane motive
Schwartz had consummated his behind the arson and homicides
malignant plans that night as I lay The final autopsy report on Mr.
helpless and unconscious. He had Richards has been delayed due to
managed to inject me with the vi- the sudden illness of Dr. Graham,
rally infected blood from his ageless the medical examiner. Dr. Graham
uncle! And now I, too, was in- became quite ill shortly after per-
fected ! forming the autopsy. He was hos-
From that day to this have I pitalized for two days suffering
fought a losing battle for posses- from high fever and unusual psy-
sion of my body. An alien con- chological disturbances His office
.

sciousness is being nurtured within reports his condition is improving

me and has begun to impose its will and that the autopsy report will be
over mine . . . completed as soon as he returns
The inner voice began yester- to work, possibly this week.
day. have fought it; tried to
I

drown it out but it always returns. Detective William Burke

It promises much, very much. When State Bureau of Investigation
I resist, it threatens ... I

haven't slept in thirty-six hours. I SubsCRYPTions

fear that if do it will take com- I

plete control. know what must I I

One year's subscription (8

do. There is a gun in my bed- issues) costs #36 in the USA

room. must act now before it
I
and Canada, $99 in Western
grows too strong. leave this I
Europe and $97 in Australia
record in the improbable hope that Pay in U. S. funds, and
some reader may believe my story. indicate first issue.
 .

30 / Crypt of Cthulhu

CHRISTMAS WITH UNCLE LOVECRAFT

By Bruce J. Balfour

The night air was cold and clear scenes to the watching Elder Cods
on Christmas Eve. The stars shone outside. Many humans were seated
like brilliant sapphires in the sky around dinner tables or in front of
and the full moon lit up the snowy fireplaces as they joked, laughed,
spruce boughs like crushed dia- and told stories. Moving from one
monds. Ancient farms with moss- window to another, the two Gods
covered cottages squatted on the watched with wistfulness in their
gently rolling hills, brooding over eyes as cats were stroked and
old New England secrets as the two sleeping children were carried off
Elder Cods strode past. They were to bed. A dog's bark broke the
in high spirits, laughing as the silence and they continued on their
sheep ran away from them and hud- way
dled together in fear against the When they were through the vil-
far side of their pens. lage they could smell the friendly
Disoriented after the long trip fields again. They braced them-
from Betelgeuse, Ythoqquah and selves for the final stretch, the
Rozhoth-Tar had gotten lost in the Home stretch, that would end with
woods of the New England country- the opening of a door and a warm
side. But now they had found a fire to greet the weary travellers
beaten track that made walking from a distant star. They plodded
easier. They felt secure in the along in silence, each thinking his
knowledge that the track would lead own thoughts.
them surroundings. They
to familiar Rozhoth-Tar thought about his
could sense the air that they
in four sore feet. If only the Creator
were almost Home. had given him the ability to fly in
"Looks like we're coming to a Earth's thin atmosphere, he
village," Rozhoth-Tar said with a wouldn't have such a problem. Yog-
voice like a bubbling hiss. He Sothoth never had trouble with sore
slackened his pace as they stepped feet, being coexistent with all time
onto a concrete road. and conterminous with all space.
"Don't worry about it," Ythoq- The Creator could at least have
quah boomed. "At this time of made him like Azathoth, the blind
year, the humans are all safe in- idiot god, an "amorphous blight of
doors. sitting around a fire with nethermost confusion which blas-
their dogs and cats. We'll pass phemes and bubbles at the center
through without anyone seeing us." of all infinity." He sighed and
Rozhoth-Tar's tentacles twitched trudged onward. At least he didn't
with nervousness as a Model T au- have to do this every year.
tomobile appeared on the road be- Ythoqquah felt good about the
hind them, its headlights illuminat- long walk and the change of sce-
ing the two Elder Gods. It swerved nery, but he was getting hungry.
into a ravine moments later. Many years had passed since his
"Well," Ythoqquah said, "almost last Christmas feast. He was hun-
nobody will see us." gry enough now to eat a horse, but
They approached the village on they hadn't seen any on their trip.
soft feet over a thick fall of pow- His multiple eyes were fixed on the
dery snow. Dusky orange-red white landscape ahead, not noticing
squares were visible on both sides when Rozhoth-Tar jerked to a stop.
of the street where the warm light Rozhoth-Tar had caught a smell
of the homes overflowed into the on the air. A moment later he had
night. The windows that lacked captured it again and was sure of
curtains revealed pleasant family its source. Home. They were very
 " .

Yuletide 1987 / 31

close now. By following the scent The windows of the five upper
they could take a shortcut through rooms glowed with welcoming light.
the woods. They had finally arrived.
"Ythoqquah! Come back!" The two Elder Gods jumped over
Ythoqquah turned and eyed his the hedges and climbed the front
companion. "We can't stop now. If wall to peer in through one of the
we don't arrive soon, everyone will second-story windows. Leaning on
be asleep. the white Colonial mantel by the
A pleading look in Rozhoth-Tar's roaring fireplace was a thin man of
massive eyes made Ythoqquah sigh average height with stooped shoul-
and trudge back to his friend's ders. He had dark eyes and mousy
side. "This better be good. My gray hair which was cut short.
tail is nearly frozen." His face was long with a lantern
"I've found a shortcut," Roz- jaw and a small, severe mouth. He
hoth-Tar said. "I can smell Home!" wore a conservative blue suit with
"I'm amazed that you can smell a blue tie. The Elder Gods watched
anything in this cold," Ythoqquah with affection in their eyes. This
sniffed. "Lead on." was their Creator. This was Uncle
As they scrambled up a hillside Lovecraft
to a dense forest, Ythoqquah began Ythoqquah scratched his claws
chattering about what they would across the window as Lovecraft had
do when they arrived, how wonder- taught him and hid from the Crea-
ful it would be to sit in front of tor's view. Lovecraft looked up
the fireplace, and how much food from the flames and smiled at the
he meant to eat. Even the evil window, remembering the greeting
Ancient Ones would be in good ritual. He approached the window
spirits this evening. and spoke in a high-pitched voice
Ythoqquah stayed close behind with a flat, nasal quality.
his friend as they crossed a deep "Do hear a cat at my window?"
I

ravine, scrambled through dense The two Elder Gods clung to the
undergrowth, and crossed an open outer wall out of Lovecraft's view
field in the moonlight. Then, with- until he turned and started away
out warning, Rozhoth-Tar dropped from the window. Ythoqquah quick-
into an ancient tunnel that smelled ly dragged his claws across the
of decay. Ythoqquah was sur- glass again. Lovecraft spun around
prised for a moment, then followed and spoke gravely to the window.
"
without hesitation. Rozhoth-Tar Ph'nglui mqlw'nafh Cthulhu
struck a match, his night vision not R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtaqn ."
being as good as it once was, and Rozhoth-Tar worked a claw un-
continued through the tunnel at a der the window and opened it.
rapid pace. Then he and Ythoqquah jumped into
Even though his sinuses were the room in front of Lovecraft and
bothering him, Ythoqquah could towered over him in a menacing
now detect the scent of Home as fashion. Lovecraft smiled.
they neared the far end of the "It is wonderful to see you
tunnel. A thrill rippled through again. Uncle!" Ythoqquah boomed,
his blood. The Creator was near! his voice rattling the windows.
They
popped out of the tunnel "It's nice to be Home," Roz-
in vacant lot on College Street in
a hoth-Tar said.
Providence, Rhode Island. Their "I was pensively ruminating on
appearance startled a group of cats the possibility that you might not
who quickly departed the area. arrive," Lovecraft said. "Shall I

They smiled as they glimpsed the procure some liquid refreshment for
familiar lines of the Creator's Colo- you?"
nial style home with its fan carving They nodded.
both Lovecraft
over the front door. Its eighteenth left the room and quickly returned
century design and smoking chim- with two large glasses of ginger
ney were pleasing to their eyes. ale.
 .

32 t Crypt of Cthulhu

"Have the others arrived yet?" of the fire.

Ythoqquah asked, looking around Uncle Lovecraft and his creations
at the empty room. waited in tense silence as an el-
A crash sounded in the hallway. dritch tentacle appeared in the
"I they're approaching at
believe chimney, probing the ashes in the
this moment," Lovecraft said. "They fireplace. A couple of bricks fell
are conveying victuals for our re- into the fireplace, then the gargan-
past." tuan body of Great Cthulhu slid
It was like a parade. The bat- down the chimney and bounded into
like Shantaks entered the room with the room. Lovecraft and the others
trays of food. They were followed were delighted to see the bundle of
by Azathoth and Hastur the Un- gifts that Cthulhu gripped in one
speakable who carried a massive fir massive tentacle. Although it ap-
Christmas tree between them. Yog- peared to be uncomfortable, Cthu-
Sothoth was next with a tray of lhu was wearing a bright red outfit
food on every tentacle. Nyarlatho- with white trim. A fake white
tep, Shub-Niggurath, Dagon, Hyp- beard was attached beneath the
nos, and Yig brought up the rear gaping mouth.
carrying enough bottles of ginger Cthulhu boomed with a sound re-
ale flood the Plateau of Leng.
to sembling laughter as he dropped
Dhzohzin-Hajgu another of
,
the the gifts underneath the tree. With
Elder Gods, carried a giant roll of a wink of his eye, Cthulhu nodded
Cheddar cheese into the room and to Uncle Lovecraft and squirmed
set it on the floor. back up the chimney with his tray
A wonderful celebration ensued of food and drink.
"
and everyone had a good time. Cthulhu wqah'naql Merry
They feasted on chili con carne, Christmas fhtagn "
!
everyone
vegetables, cheese, candy, several shouted as Cthulhu disappeared
flavors of ice cream, and coffee. from view.
As usual, Azathoth was the life of Little time passed before all the
the party. The blind idiot god presents were opened. Uncle Love-
danced around with a lampshade on craft received an autographed first
his amorphous head until he passed edition of the Necronomicon and
out with his face in a bowl of pis- seemed very happy with it. The
tachio ice cream. The tree was Elder Gods and the Ancient Ones
decorated by the time the fire and received a wide variety of ancient
the party died down at two in the figurines carved in their own im-
morning. By common and silent ages. Ythoqquah also received a
agreement, everyone moved away heavy wool mitten for his tail. Roz-
from the fire precisely at two hoth-Tar acquired a set of comfort-
o'clock. Most of them hide tried to able fur boots custom-made by the
their bulky bodies behind the few Abominable Snow-Men of Mi-Go.
small pieces of furniture. Uncle Showering wishes of the season
Lovecraft set out a small tray of on Uncle Lovecraft and the others,
food and drink near the fire, then the assembled creatures moved off
ducked behind the couch as he to their bunks and sleeping bags.
motioned for everyone to remain Lovecraft poured himself a nightcap
silent of ginger ale and toasted them all
Thunder boomed and lightning as they left the room.
flashed. Rozhoth-Tar, intoxicated Exhausted from the day's exer-
by the ginger ale, started to gig- tions and their long journey Ythoq-
,

gle. Ythoqquah clapped a claw quah and Rozhoth-Tar clambered

over his friend's mouth to silence
him. A series of
sounds became audible on the roof,
followed by an enormous crash.
Clouds of soot dropped down the
chimney to snuff out the remnants
into their bunks and covered them-
damp squelching selves with the heavy blankets.
They both felt great joy and con-
tentment. They saw clearly how
much this occasion meant to them
and the special value of such an
 I

Yuletide 1987 / 33

anchorage in their existence. Even One; he already would have become

so, they would not turn their backs one. The bite turned him into a
on the stars and what they offered. vampire of sorts.
They knew they must return to the "Fisherman at Falcon Point" re-
larger stage. But it felt good to mains the only mystery, unless that
know they had this Home to come old fisherman saved the merwoman
back to, these things which were in the first place because he felt
so glad to see them again and could sympathy which could imply that
always be counted upon for the he was one of them, too. But that
same simple welcome. They fell is only implication. That one story
asleep with contented smiles on is a mystery.
their faces. Tani Jantsang
Newquay, England
Copyright O 1987
by Bruce J. Balfour [Oops! The discussion of "Inns-
mouth Clay" was added to Larson's
article, to update it, by your bum-
LOVLCRAFT AS A CHARACTER bling editor. Mea culpa ! Editor
IN LOVECRAFTIAN FICTION
(continued from page 37) I would like to address the criti-
cisms of Crypt leveled by Ms. Jes-
'See Steven J. Mariconda, "'The sica Amanda Salmonson at your
Hound' A Dead Dog?," Crypt of magazine's lack of female authors.
Cthulhu #38. First, let me reaffirm the facts she
2 pointed out to begin with that
See Robert M. Price, "The Hu-
really, there aren't very many fe-
mor at Red Hook," Crypt of Cthu -
males writing for the 'zine. This
lhu #28, where show how both
I

is true. However, think it is not

I

Suydam and Malone are Lovecraft

necessarily correct in calling the
alter egos.
"excuse" used by many editors who
^Most of the following dates are say "no females submit" "archaic."
initialpublication dates. Up to this Must we be labeled barbarians be-
point they are composition dates. cause we tell the truth? think I

not. For one, Jessica, it is not

'See also Shea's very Derlethian
entirely easy for editors to recover
The Color out of Time (1984).
addresses of lady writers this job
is, in fact, quite nearly impossible
without the proper connections. I

HAIL-CALL OF CTHULHU as editor of Revelations from Yuq -

(continued from page 60) qoth myself would love to reprint
more work by female macabre art-
the Marsh clan; he already had ists. However, much of the stuff
Deep One blood. When he sculpted currently being produced is below
the statue it was to be a bird wom- the par set for my magazine.
I

an, yet in his dreams he was influ- Moreover, most of the older stuff
enced by something guess like a
I put out by such highly-respectable
succubus, to change the statue in- ladies as Creye La Spina, Leah Bo-
to a Deep One woman. Corey was dine Drake, Mearle Prout, Dorothy
so much a Deep One already that Quick, Alice I'anson, and others is
the drunk ran when he saw extremely difficult to research
Corey's neck creases. The suc- copyrights for, and as such even
cubus-like dream-woman and the more risky to reprint.
statue only helped to cause what Don't get me wrong. am not I

was in him to happen anyway. defending chauvinism. Many of my

In "Haggopian" also, Haggopian favorite macabre artists areof the
has Deep One blood from his moth- fairer sex C. L. M. E.
Moore,
er's side. The bite from the hag- Counselman, and the ladies
all of
fish did not turn him into a Deep (continued on page 43)
 .

34 / Crypt of Cthulhu

FANTASY MACABRE // 1 0 - OUR CTHULHU MYTHOS ISSUE

Featuring; "The Guardian of the Gate" by James Grandillo, a never

before published story which, August Derleth at the time of his death,
had accepted for an anthology on which he was working.

Among the other ten stories in issue #10 are: "The Light in the Room"
by Gary William Crawford; "The Kiss" by Archie N. Roy; "Pages from
Pickman's Diary", Arkham House artist Tony Patrick's first serious
work of fiction; and "The Pacific High" by Grant Fjermedal,
bestselling author of THE TOMORROW MAKERS (Macmillan).

Subscriptions to FANTASY MACABRE are $9 for three issues. Subscribe

now and receive three (3) back issues free, including, while supplies
last, one containing a new story by Tom Ligotti.

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 Yuletide 1987 / 35

LOVECRAFT AS A CHARACTER
IN LOVECRAFTIAN FICTION
By Robert M. Price

Any author puts himself into his character more completely re-
is a
work, but some have done so in a alized alter ego. HPL probably got
literal fashion as when, for exam- the idea from having used his own
ple, Lin Carter, author of the Cal- dream in "The Statement of Ran-
listo series of science fiction adven- dolph Carter." Why not have Car-
ture novels, sets aside the role of ter return as his alter ego? In
Burroughsian narrator and dons the "The Unnamable" 1923), Lovecraft/
(

mantle of (anti-)hero in Lankar Carter appears full-blown as a

of Callisto . H. P. Lovecraft's writer of horror stories for the
characters often have an pulp magazine Whispers "The Sil-.

autobiographical ring as well. And, ver Key" (1926) is more pensive

of course, HPL has entered the and wistful, and provides an elo-
fiction of others as a character. quent statement of Lovecraft's phil-
We will take this occasion briefly osophical stance: an escape from
to survey the major appearances nihilistic despair by taking refuge
of Lovecraft as a character in in the beauty of the past. Ran-
Lovecraftian fiction. dolph Carter becomes a Burrough-
Following the common practice of sian inter-world adventurer in The
cannibalizing one's autobiography Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath
for one's fiction, HPL used aspects (1926-27). The speech of Nyarla-
of his own unique upbringing and thotep at the end of the novel pro-
his antiquarian interests to fill in vides a statement of Lovecraft's
the sketchy outlines of his narra- esthetic strategy of building realms
tors/characters in "The Tomb" of cosmic fantasy on earthly scenes
(1917), "The Outsider" (1921), and locales that seized his own
The Case of Charles Dexter Ward imagination in breathless moments
(1927), and "The Thing on the of wonder. Finally, in "Through
Doorstep" (1933). Lovecraft him- the Cates of the Silver Key," Love-
self is the narrator of "The State- craft adds yet another alter ego in
ment of Randolph Carter" (1919) the same tale: "Phillips, the Provi-
and the prose poem "Nyarlathotep" dence mystic, was lean, grey, long-
(1920) simply because these stories nosed, clean shaven, and stoop-
are transcripts of his own dreams. shouldered." I suspect it is no ac-
(Harley Warren in "Statement" is cident that a second Lovecraft Dop -
really Samuel Loveman.) Similarly, pelqanger appears in this sto-
innocent personal experiences ry alongside Randolph Carter.
transmogrified into fictional horrors "Through the Cates of the Silver
form the basis of "The Hound" Key," a sequel to "The Silver
(1922 ), so HPL is the narrator and Key," was really the idea of E.
Rheinhart Kleiner is the doomed Hoffmann Price ("De Marigny" in
"St. John." 1 "Through the Cates"), who wrote
Two talesfrom 1925 are genuine- the first draft. Lovecraft collabo-
ly autobiographical to a greater ex- rated only reluctantly. Randolph
tent. "He" and "The Horror at Carter is used in this tale in a way
Red Hook" both comment ruefully Lovecraft had not planned. In this
on Lovecraft's "New York Exile," light, "Ward Phillips"and his
as may be seen readily from the speech take on new importance.
opening lines of the former. 2 Phillips briefly sums up what he
Lovecraft's Randolph Carter had though t to be Carter's fate.
 . . a

36 / Crypt of Cthulhu

giving a summary of the events of the Steeple" (1951), brings in fel-

"The Silver Key." Of course low-author Fritz Leiber as yet a
"Through the Cates" undoes the third doomed character.)
ending of the earlier story, the To be complete, we ought to
story of Carter as HPL had really mention Bloch's creation of Luveh-
wanted it ended. Now forced by Keraph, Egyptian high priest of
politeness to lay it aside for the Bast (the goddess of HPL's beloved
sake of his friend Price's proposed cats). This HPL pre-incarnation,
sequel, Lovecraft dissociates him- highly reminiscent of HPL's own
self Carter and identifies him-
from "Klarkash-Ton," appeared in
self with the new character
instead Bloch's "The Suicide in the Study"
Ward who now pointedly
Phillips, (1935).
reminds the reader, " Here's what In the stories of Long and
thought happened: remember 'The Bloch, the reason for introducing
Silver Key'?" It is thus a subtle Lovecraft as a character is simply
protest against the Price sequel in the fun of seeing HPL appear in
which HPL was a reluctant collabo- one of his own stories, so to
rator. speak. The idea is much like that
Lovecraft began to invade the of the Candid Camera viewers who
fantasy worlds of others in Frank often wrote in asking that Allen
Belknap Long's "The Space Eaters" Funt himself be made the unsus-
(1928 ), 3 where the narrator's friend pecting dupe in one of the show's
"Howard" is "a tall, slim man with a elaborate filmed scams.
slight stoop long nose and
. . . August W. Derleth began inject-
slightly protuberant chin. My . . . ing his mentor HPL into Mythos
friend wrote short-stories. He tales for a discernibly different
wrote to please himself, in defiance reason. Lovecraft does not actual-
of contemporary taste, and his tales ly appear in the stories; rather, he
were unusual." Together Howard is mentioned by characters as a
and the author manage to drive figure of their recent past. For
away invading aliens with advice instance, already in "The Return of
from the Necronomicon (the Necro - Hastur" (1939), shortly after HPL's
nomicon epigraph does not appear death, Paul Tuttle discovers that
in the story as printed in the Ark- Lovecraft's tale "The Shadow over
ham/Ballantine Tales of the Cthulhu Innsmouth," which he has read in
Mythos ) the February 1928 issue of Weird
No doubt the best known fiction- Tales is actually true.
, In "The
al appearance of Lovecraft is as the Keeper of the Key" (1951), we
unnamed Providence recluse whose read
aid is sought by the narrator of
"But Cthulhu is a legend
Robert Bloch's "The Shambler from
creation of the imagination of
the Stars" (1934). Young Bloch
the American writer, Love-
even went so far as HPL's to obtain
craft!" protested.
I

written permission to finish him off

"You say so. So do others.
in a grisly fashion. HPL's corpse
But consider the parallels . .

is sucked dry by the vampiric ava- II

tar of Tsalhoggua at the story's

climax "The Seal of R'lyeh" (1957)
In
Lovecraft had "Robert Blake" we even discover that HPL, Robert
done in by an avatar of Nyarlatho- Barlow, and Robert E. Howard were
tep in "The Haunter of the Dark" probably all done in by the Old
(1935), but added some autobio- Ones! Of course the point here is
graphical details that really made to chill the reader with the implica-
Blake half-Lovecraft, half-Bloch. tion that "Cthulhu is real even in
Blake lives in Lovecraft's house and your world!" It does not come off
writes tales with titles that satirize very well. (Colin Wilson handled it
HPL's own. (The final tale in this more effectively in The Mind Para -
trilogy, Bloch's "The Shadow from sites where the Old Ones turn out
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 37

to be real in Derleth's own world.) happened

does make Lovecraft an
Derleth One feature Chappell's, Can-
on-stage character in "The Dark non's, and Lupoff's Lovecraft apoc-
Brotherhood," but here the narra- rypha have in common is the notion
tor, "Arthur Phillips," as in "The that real-life adventures inspired
Statement of Randolph Carter," is various Lovecraft tales. The too-
unobtrusively, almost incidentally, true theories of madman Sterling
Lovecraft. "Ward Phillips" in "The Croyden inspired "The Shadow over
Lamp of Alhazred" is obviously and Innsmouth," "The Dreams in the
transparently Lovecraft, as the Witch House" and (by implication)
story is Derleth's tribute to HPL At the Mountains of Madness HPL's .

and to his imagination. Thus this team-up with Holmes inspired "The
touching story does not quite fall Horror at Red Hook," and his sub-
into the same category we have marine exploits with Houdini's
been discussing. brother led to "The Shadow over
The present decade has wit- Innsmouth." In a sense, we are
nessed a whole new approach to back to Derleth, only here the idea
using Lovecraft as a literary char- is that "truth is stranger than fic-
acter. Here writers have realized tion," not that fiction is truth after
what Winfield Townley Scott said all.
years ago, that Lovecraft was "his One last note on Robert Bloch's
own most fantastic creation." Love- use of Lovecraft as a character. In
craft has now begun to appear as his later novel Strange Eons (1979),
himself, a character fully as inter- a Cthulhu Mythos homage to Love-
esting and entertaining as any of craft, he pretty much recapitulates
his fictional protagonists. Why not Derleth's "It's true after all" theme,
make him a fictional protagonist, having characters refer to Love-
then? craft as a writer who turned out to
Fred Chappell's "Weird Tales" be speaking the truth after all.
(1984) does contain strong super- (Similarly, see Michael Shea's recent
natural elements, and in a very Fat Face 1987 ). 4 But as early as
,

Lovecraftian way: those who stum- 1940 Bloch had anticipated the lat-
ble on the truth of the reawakening est trend in his short story "Ghost
elder race are destroyed. But the Writer" which recounts supernatural
character involved is Hart Crane. revenge among the Lovecraft Circle.
Lovecraft appears in the story but (At least we think so.) The char-
takes no part in the fantastic ac- acters are purposely very different
tion. When he appears he is simply in manner and appearance from
part of the mosaic, but it is the their real-life analogues, but the
genuine HPL we meet. story seems to be loosely based, in
Peter H. Cannon's novella Pulp - a self-deprecatingly satirical way,
time (1984) teams Lovecraft and on the master-disciple relationship
Frank Belknap Long with Sherlock between HPL and young Bloch,
Holmes. The whole Kalem Club though the Bloch character also
eventually becomes involved. The seems to incorporate elements of
story is really about Lovecraft and August Derleth and perhaps even
his "New York gang." Lovecraft as Forrest J. Ackerman (cf. the "Boil-
Lovecraft is the center of the sto- ing Point" controversy in The Fan -
ry- tasy Fan ). In this story, the mas-
Richard A. Lupoff's Lovecraft's ter bequeaths his disciple his (spir-
Book (1985) is also all about Love- it-possessed) typewriter, opening a
craft, though Clark Ashton Smith channel for really posthumous col-
and Robert E. Howard have impor- laborations, a theme recalling
tant lesser roles. Those real-life Bloch's later "The Man Who Col-
characters were all picturesque lected Poe" (1951) as well as Karl
enough to have had such adven- Edward Wagner's "Sticks" (1974).
tures as Lupoff casts them in,
though as it happened, it never (See Footnotes on page 33)
 )

38 / Crypt of Cthulhu

FROM THE VAULTS OF YOH VOMBIS

By Lin Carter

Hors d'Oeuvres Time is for dragonflies and

dragons. The former live too
Time's mightiest conqueror
the
briefly and the latter live too long.
of them Not Hannibal with all
all.
his elephants or Rome with all her
John D. MacDonald,
Pale Gray for Guilt
legions can wreak the ruin of a
trickle of sand through an hour- My imagination has its dancing-
glass. Ask the ghosts of Babylon places, like the Dawn in Homer;
and Nineveh and Tyre if it be not there are terraces, with balustrades
so! Donn Byrne, and marble fountains on them,
Messer Marco Polo where Ideal Beings smile as draw I

near; there are ilex-groves and

It's impossible to starve. You
beech trees under which hold I

can always try burglary, or hold-

forth for ever; gardens fairer than
ing people up. If you get away
most earthly gardens where groups
with it, you have money for food;
of ladies never grow weary of lis-
and if you are caught they serve
you meals in jail.
T. H. White,
tening to my voice.
Logan Pear-
sall Smith, More Trivia
England Have My Bones
The jewel into facets,
is cut A Preponderance of Giants II :

each but each different,

brilliant
and it is possible that many differ- A "preponderance" is the collec-
ent religions are at least moderately tive noun for giants suggested by
true.
James Hilton, John Boardman and enthusiastically
Lost Horizon adopted by myself. (Some of my
own coinages in the collective noun
Uncultivated minds
not full are
department which might amuse you
of wild flowers. Villainous weeds
are: a quorum of senators, a bevy
grow in them, and they are the
of bathing beauties, a synod of
haunt of Toads. Logan Pearsall bishops, and a cackle of witches.
Smith, T rivia
You can play this game yourself,
There have been earthquakes with a couple of friends . . .

which, in a few seconds, have been But on with my list of giants:

responsible for killing almost as
HARPIN of the Mount. A savage
many people as a politician in his
giant overcome in battle by the
entire career. T. H. White, knightly hero of the twelfth cen-
The Elephant and the Kangaroo
tury romance, Yvain .

Neitherthe substance of Ameri- HUNDER. A giant so huge that

ca's favorite sport, politics, nor the every morning for breakfast he de-
substance of America's favorite voured three whole sheep, a pie
food, the hot dog, can bear too made from one thousand apples, and
close analysis. --Gregory Mcdon- a chocolate drop as wide as a spin-
ald Fletch and the Man Who
, ning wheel. It would take six or-
dinary men to so much as lift the
The lucky man is generally the
brass key to his front door! See
man who knows exactly how much to
James Thurber's fairy tale. The
leave to luck. C. S. Forester,
Great Quillow .

Flying Colours
IRUS. The beggar-giant in the
It is the tragedy of writing a Odyssey who toiled for Penelope's
really good you cannot
letter that castleful of free-loading suitors and
be there when it is opened. tried to interfere with the return
--A. A. Milne, Once On a Time of Odysseus, who slew him.
 . ! .

Yuletide 1987 / 39

KEWISH. The three-legged giant giant some fifteen feet high and
of the Isle of Man in the old Manx very fat from all the good eating he
tale. He was quite a nice and had done. His teeth, though, were
friendly giant, as giants went in nearly ground down to the gums
those days: he never harmed a "that was from grinding up the
soul. In fact, he once saved St. bones of goats, for he always ate
Patrick from being eaten up by a 'em raw, with the skin on." See
sea monster. Eairy Tales of th e British Isles .

KLAAS. Youngest of the three ORGOGLIO. In the Faerie

boisterous giant brothers of Hol- Queene the most fearsome giant
,

land's Gelderland, in the old Dutch that ever was seen, thrice human
tale, "The Whispering Giant." They height, who bore as a cudgel a
were a noisy and bothersome trio, full-grown oak tree he had torn up
until outwitted by the cunning of by the roots. He battled with the
the dwarves. Red-Crosse Knight (St. George,
LAGGAN. Five-headed giant you know), who only failed to over-
who lived three hundred years and come him because he was at the
was finally slain by the Scot hunts- time laid low by a magic draught
man, Finlay the Changeling. Lag- from Sluggard's Fount. Prince
gan was the head of the last family Arthur finally killed him; Orgog-
of giants left in Scotland. See "Fin- lio, mean, not St. George.
I

lay the Giant Killer" in Giants! PANTAGRUEL. The thirsty

Giants Giants
I , edited by Helen giant in Rabelais' Gargantua and
Hoke. Pantaqruel (Did you know, by the
.

MAUSHOP. Another good giant, way, that Gargantua is supposed to

like Kewish above; he lived in Cape take place in Utopia?)
Cod (of all places!) in the days PIET. Eldest of the three jolly
when only the mean, conniving, giant brothers in the Dutch tale
ugly, dwarfish pukwudgies lived "The Whispering Giant." You can
there. See "The Good Giants and find the story in 13 Giants , edited
the Bad Pukwudgies" by Jean Fritz. by Dorothy Gladys Spicer (Coward-
MORGANTE. Ferocious Pagan McCann, 1966).
giant conquered by Orlando, con- PIRE. Two-headed giant from
verted on the spot to Christianity, the south of Narnia, overcome by
and who thereafter performed noble Olvin, the fair-haired King of Ar-
and chivalric feats until at length chenland, who turned him into a
expiring from the bite of a crab. mountain. See The Horse and His
See Morqante Maqqiore by Pulci Boy , by C. S. Lewis.
(1982) if
you can find it a bur- QUANT. Wife of the good giant
lesque in verse of chivalric ro- Maushop, of Cape Cod, of all
mances. Sounds like a fun book (I places
can't find it, myself). RUMBLEBUFFIN. Another giant
MRS. YOOP. A genteel but dic- of Narnia, a good one this time,
giantess in L. Frank Baum's
tatorial freed by Aslan from his enchant-
The Tin Woodman of Oz She com- . ment as a statue in the courtyard
manded vast magical powers, but of the palace of the White Witch,
only when she wore her magic lace Jadis. See The Lion, the Witch,
apron. When Woot the Wanderer and the Wardrobe .

stole it from her, she lost all her STONEFOOT. Yet one more
powers Narnian giant, summoned to battle
OG. King of Bashan in Deuter- by Roonwit at the command of King
onomy 3:11. He lived for three Tirian. See The Last Battle.
thousand years, and avoided drown- STUMBLEDUFFER. One of my
ing in the Flood by swimming along own giants, for a change! A nice,
with part of his weight resting on friendly, quite gentlemanly giant
the Ark. His bed measured nine who lives in the Zetzelstein Moun-
cubits by four cubits. tains in Terra Magica, and who
OLD DENBRAS. Elderly Cornish never eats Man, being much fonder
40 / Crypt of Cthulhu

of elephant cutlets, whale stew, four hundred years old at the time
hippopotamus hash, and suchlike he was visited by the Scarecrow,
dishes. You can read about him in the Patchwork Girl, Princess Dor-
Dragonrouqe and also in Callipyqia. othy, Oko and Toto. See one of
TEUTOBOCHUS. Name coined the best and liveliest of L. Frank
for the giant's skeleton discovered Baum's Oz books. The Patchwork
near the Rhone in 1613. When re- Girl of Oz (1913).
buried, the remains required a tomb
thirty feet long. (Another giant And there you have it: not alj^

skeleton was dug up in 1456, also the giants I know of, but at least
near the Rhone. suspect that I a full preponderance.
both consisted of the fossilized
bones of mammoths.) Materials Towards a Natural
THUNDERDELL. A two-headed History of. Gryphons :

giant who happened be the

to
eighth of his colossal race to be Mythical creature, hybrid or
dispatched the by hand of the in- composite of eagle and lion, most
defatigable Sir Jack. authoritatively pictured as possess-
THUNDERTHICHS. Another of ing the belly, hind-quarters, rear
my own giants, who lives atop a legs and tail of a lion, and the
medium-sized Terra Magica.
Alp in beaked head, chest, wings, and
Unlike his friend, Stumbleduffer, clawed forelegs of an eagle except
Thunderthighs does indeed eat Man, that it has ears long, pricked
,

when he can catch 'urn. He was ears, and no birds do. (Did you
some twenty times human height, ever stop to think about that?)
or about 120 feet tall, and weighed Name is variously given as grif-
four tons. When he perspired, a fin, griffon, gryphon, griffun,
drop of his sweat would have filled gryphoun, griffown, griffoune,
a quart bucket. See my novel, greffon, gryffon, grifon, gryfon,
Dragonrouqe Please: . need I griffion. gryffen, griffyn,
griffen,
the royalties! grefyne, gryffin, griphon,
grifyn,
TIR-A-LIRRA. Friendly, but girphinne, grephoun, griphin, gry-
enormous, Turkish giant in Frank phin and gryphen.
R. Stockton's charming children's All of these derive directly from
fantasy, Ting-A-Ling Tales His . the French griffon which came .

best friend was a tiny Turkish from the Old French qrifoun which .

fairy (Ting-A-Ling), who was, to came from the Italian grifone which ,

him, so miniscule that he could came from the Latin qryphus which ,

hardly see him at all. came from the Greek qrups or

VANCE, SIR GAMMER. Nice qryps which might possibly, but
,

giant with the interesting hobby of probably did not, come from the
bottle-making, in the traditional Hebrew kerubh ("cherub").
English nonsense-story of the same Homeland variously said to be
name, which know only from
I Scythia or Hindoostan. Sir John de
James Reeves' redaction, in his Mandeville suggests the otherwise
Three Tall T (1960). unknown land of Bacharie in Asia,
WIMBLEWEATHER. A "small" where the trees bear wool like
giant of Narnia, but brave as a sheep and man-eating ypotains
lion. He was a member of Prince (half-man and half-horse) inhabit
Caspian's War Council, and proved the rivers, lakes, and streams.
to be none too bright for all his Ancient, Classical, and Medieval
courage. See Prince Caspian . authorities seem about evenly di-
YOOP. A ferocious giant held vided in their opinion as to whether
captive in the Quadling Country of the gryphon was imaginary or real.
Oz and exhibited to the public in
, Aelian, Solinus, Pomponius Mela and
a gigantic cage. He was twenty- Herodotus mention the gryphon in
one feet tall, and weighed 1640 context as an actual beast, while
pounds and was something over Plautus, Virgil, and Ariosto agree.
 ) ,

Vuletide 1987 / 41

On hand, Albertus Mag-

the other THE JABBERWOCK
nus, Pliny, Aldrovandus, and Mat-
thias Michovius declare the beast The Jabberwock, that frightful
purely imaginary. In his Vulgar beast
Errors dear old Sir Thomas Browne (I say this without malice).
ponders the question and concludes Is very little known (at least
that the gryphon is symbolic. So deduce from Alice
I )

(Symbolic of what he doesn't say.)

Refuting Sir Thomas, Andrew The facts about the beast are few:
Ross takes up the question of such 'Tis corpulent and bulgy.
an unlikely hybrid (eagle and lion) It's fond of rosemary and rue.
and points out, rather cogently, I'd And lives in woodlands tulgey;
say, that even more unlikely crea-
tures actually do exist such as It keenly fears a pruning fork.
"the Cyraffa, or Camelopard," a And feels contempt for gerbils;
living composite made up of the It's fond of soap and salted pork.
spare parts of "the Libbard, Buffe, And when it runs, it burbles ;

Hart, and Camel." Ross has a

point, you must admit; and he It is not really very strong.
could also have pointed to some of And often gets the sniffles;
the more absurd creatures, such as And sometimes, as it romps along.
the porcupine, kangaroo, armadillo, Huntsmen report it whiffles ;
and, Ghod help us all, the platypus
(which is, as you know, a com- It is not very good at games.
posite of animal, bird, and reptile, Conundrums oft will stump it;
and look it up if you don't believe Its eyes have been compared to
the Guru). flames
You may conclude that the gry- It cannot play the trumpet;
phon is imaginary, but if so, you
may find yourself in trouble with It dines on stout and sourdough.
the British Museum. You see, they And loves a double feature
have one of the foreclaws of a gry- And this is really all know I

phon, which is for some reason Of this elusive creature!

sacred to St. Cuthbert. (Yes, St .

Cuthbert ...
don't make this
I (And just one more, for the road:)
junk up, you know!) Another
foreclaw, but probably not from the
same gryphon, is preserved in the THE YETI
Brunswick Cathedral. It came from
Palestine which, come to think of These large and lumpish creatures
it, is sure a long way from Scythia, were
or Hindoostan, or, for that matter, Covered entirely with fur.
Bacharie. Oh, the British Museum
also has in its collections a fossil- Rumors concerning them persist.
ized gryphon's egg. (Don't ask They may not (or they may) exist.
me !

Today, our fabulous monster's All can say about the Yeti
I

name adorns a rather extensive Is that they are not very preti.
family of Welsh origin (to say noth-
ing of the flag of Wales), and a The Intelligent Child's Own
small, ridiculous breed of dog even Book of Interesting and
more silly-looking than the poodle. Instructive Monsters
Such is fame.
We are sad to report the death
of Donald Vandrei on October 17.
Another poem from that unpub- Wandrei was a gifted writer of
lished book of mine: weird fiction and co-founder of
Arkham House.
12 / Crypt of Cthulhu

THE KEEPER AT THE CRYPT

By Carl T. Ford

I have been lecturing Crypt be fellow investigators, cultists or

readers on the evil delights of demons in disguise for all the play-
playing the Call of Cthulhu role- ers know. Only the Keeper (ref-
playing game for some time now. eree) and fellow NPCs know the
However, not so many Cthulhoids truth and outcome of the adven-
will be familiar with a game entitled ture .

Cthulhu run by "The H. P.

Lives The action might take place in a
Lovecraft Historical Society." The deserted mansion or haunted castle,
player or investigator actively par- in a woodland house or an old
ticipates in a real "live" mystery, graveyard, anything the Society
connected in some way or another have hired as premises for the
to those Lovecraftian horrors we entertainment of the members. In
love to loathe. some cases property is leased by
Members enrol in the society for the Society or owned (such is the
an annual membership fee and then case with several "live" role-playing
when they decide to participate in groups in England).
an adventure they pay a further Monsters usually play a small
fee per session. In the game Cthu - part in the set-up. Characters
lhu Lives characters are inevitably might catch a rare glimpse of Deep
situated in 1920s surroundings and Ones in an old cove or by the sea
so the player dresses accordingly. banks, but very rarely. If they
(Regular newsletters sent out to do, the Keeper might decide that
Society members frequently contain they are driven insane by the
articles advising players on costume sights they see and so the charac-
preparation and design.) ter might suddenly be forced to re-
Carnes are run approximately on tire from the game. When the mon-
a monthly basis and circulars are sters do show up, it is on rare oc-
sent out to members announcing casions, usually at the end of a
that a "scenario" is to take place. scenario. Besides, seeing someone
Players wishing to participate ar- running around in a rubber suit
rive at the destination on the day might dampen the atmosphere so
specified and will find themselves carefully built during the course of
introduced to the other players, play.
whom they may or may not know The main action revolves around
from previous adventures. Char- the characters' investigations into
acters are subtly introduced into the mystery at hand. Important
the scenario by a nonplaying char- clues may wait in mansion libraries;
acter (i.e., a player who is present or concealed staircases (hidden be-
in the game, but whose prime con- hind players' bedroom wardrobes)
cern is to steer "investigators" might lead to unspeakable horrors
along the right tracks, towards the far below the house cellars. For
goal or adventure conclusion. He the investigating players it's action
may play a small or large part in and excitement all the way.
the actual game, depending on the Carnes can last up to several
Keeper's plans). Other nonplaying weeks. Recently the Cthulhu Lives
characters also participate all these group travelled to England for a
actors know the route the game is scenario which spanned from the
to take and act out their roles ac- gaslight scenes of old London Town
cordingly. They may or may not to Cambridge in an adventure en-
be whom they claim to be, and it titled "The Wicker Man."
is up to the investigators to decide Membership to "The H. P. Love-
whether to trust them. NPCs can craft Historical Society" costs only
 Yuletide 1987 / 93

$15 a year. Even if you don't

think that running around in 20s
garb, investigating old wine-cellars,
creepy crypts, bat-ridden bell-tow- THREE NEW ONES!
ers, and mysterious mansions is for
you. Crypt readers might still like
to obtain the regular newsletters SHUDDER STORIES 2
that the Society send out to mem-
Featuring three weird menace
bers.
Membership gets you a certificate tales: "Plaything for the Chor-
tling Fiend" by Charles Hoff-
and card, regular updates on ad-
ventures and a monthly newsletter man; "Coffin Crag" by Carl
entitled Strange Eons which con- Jacobi; and "Meat for Satan's
,
Ice Box" by Francis James,
tains reports on the Society activi-
plus an article "Another Ex-
ties, articles on Lovecraftian mat-
citing Hugh B. Cave Story" by
ters and other eldritch lore. The
Society also hold their Annual Black
Audrey Parente $9.50
Tentacle Awards ceremonies, where-
in Society members get to vote for REVELATIONS FROM YUGCOTH
their favourite "live" adventures,
actors. Keepers, and whatever else This long-awaited premier issue
these cultists get up to. features Cthulhu Mythos fiction
Having been established for al- by Wilum Pugmire, Dave Stall,
most four years now, the HPLHS is Mark Rainey, Robert M. Price;
going strong and is definitely worth poetry by Brian Lumley, a sto-
a wandering tentacle. So if you've ry fragment by Robert E. How-
ever craved to walk those haunted ard, loads of loathsome art,
Arkham hills, visit the legendary and other surprises. . .$9.50
.

harbours of shadowed Innsmouth,

study in dark libraries filled with
tomes of ancient lore, then why not CROMLECH 2
drop a line to:
This even longer-awaited second
Sean Branney, President issue of the Journal of Robert
HPLHS E. Howard Criticism sports a
1939 15th Street cover by Stephen E. Fabian
Boulder, CO 80302 plus "Howard's Prototypes" by
USA L. Sprague de Camp, "Shadow
in the Well" (a story fragment
Your lives will never be quite
the same again.
by Robert E. Howard) and
more! $9.50

MAIL-CALL OF CTHULHU
(continued from page 33)

aforementioned (and somewhere on

that list your name must surely AD RATES
fall). But must insist that simply
I Full page (6 1/2"x9 1/2"). $30 .

because editors lack stories by Half page (6 1/2"x9 3/9"

women (Schiff is a good example he or 3"x9 1/2") $16
is perhaps the most un-biased man Quarter page (6 1/2"x2 1/3"
I ever met) does not mean they are or 3"x3 3/9" $8.50
"archaic," "chauvinistic," or most
of all plotting against the opposite Send camera ready copy, and
sex for domination of the field of do not exceed exact dimensions
supernatural literature. One might as stated above (the first fig-
disagree; but why do doubt it?
I
ure denotes width).
(continued on page 55)
44 / Crypt of Cthulhu

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Strange Co., - - Aldiss, Anderson, Ballard, Bloch, Brennen,
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F orthcoming items include: William Hope Hodgson: A

Bibliography of Books and Periodical Appearances. Clark
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Send For Free Catalogue

 . }

Yuletide 1987 / 45

Rlyeli Review
Steve Behrends (ed.), Clark stories Smith discusses. Even
Ashton Smith: Letters to H. P. though Behrends has edited out
Lovecraft. Necronomicon Press, some of the day to day details, he
80 pp. , 1987. $6.95. observes that in comparison to
Lovecraft's opuses. Smith's letters
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz
are often "quite perfunctory," full
Like so many of H. P. Love- of early story synopses (often al-
craft's correspondences, the one tered or forgotten), but equally full
with Clark Ashton Smith was a true of praises for the most recent Love-
meeting of the minds. Although craft story or gripes about his
they often discussed the possibility battles with Farnsworth Wright and
of the one coming out to Providence Hugo Cernsback over acceptances
or the other to Auburn (more like- and payment (a matter of some im-
ly since Lovecraft seems to have portance, since Smith was support-
had more of the travelling bug), in ing himself and his aging parents
the fourteen years the two writers on his meager sales).
exchanged letters they never saw One doesn't get as much of the
each other face to face. Public writer's character from Smith's let-
record of this correspondence has ters as one gets from Lovecraft's.
been one-sided, limited to the twen- Still, there are occasional glimpses.
ty-six entries in Lovecraft's Se - In a relatively long letter dated
lected Letters but thanks to The
, circa October 24, 1930 (Smith's
efforts of Smith scholar Steve Beh- playful dating of letters from myth-
rends we now have a volume of ical places and times has made only
Smith's forty-four extant contribu- an approximate chronology possi-
tions to the literary friendship. ble), Smith describes the difference
The book begs comparison to the between Lovecraft's approach to the
Arkham House edition of Lovecraft's weird through "corroborating detail
letters, but really, none is possi- and verisimilitude" and his own at-
ble. Lovecraft's letters are true tempts "to delude the reader into
revelations and the five volumes accepting an impossibility, or series
patch together an extraordinary of impossibilities, by means of a
cultural and intellectual history, of sort of verbal black magic." Simple
which Lovecraft's fiction is only a as this sounds, it explains a lot
brief chapter. In Smith's letters to about other attitudes Smith ex-
Lovecraft, writing for the popular presses .

magazines of supreme importance.

is Smith was very aware that he
This is to be expected, since it was differed from most of the pulp fan-
through appearances in Weird Tales tasists in that he was "far happier
that the two got to know each when Ican create everything in a
other. But also, as Behrends story, including the milieu." To
notes, this was the period in which editors who request that he write
Smith made the transition from stories that are "'a play of human
poetry to prose, and one can chart motives, with alien worlds for back-
the dramatic growth of Smith's in- ground,"' he retorts "if human mo-
terest in his fiction writing as the tives are mainly what they want,
letters move from his early half- why bother going to other planets?"
hearted descriptions of a story idea Smith felt as embattled against
to theories on how and why he the "yaps and nitwits" as did Love-
writes his particular type of weird craft. He hated feeling compelled
story to write "in a manner that obviates
But readers should note that the mental effort on the part of the
greatest value in these letters is in lowest grade moron" in order to
their use as adjuncts to the specific make a sale. The trick, one that
 a )

46 / Crypt of Cthulhu

he felt he could not master, was Cthulhu Mythos; for example, in an

"to develop adequate atmosphere in April 21 1937, letter. Smith refers
,

connection with fairly rapid action." to Derleth's citation of the Farnese

For this reason Edmond Hamilton, letter, and thus the "black magic"
someone who sacrificed the former quote. Smith shows great restraint,
for the latter, and who could do it recording on more than one occa-
well and to order, is often Smith's sion his reservations about Der-
whipping boy. leth's interpretation of the Old Ones
With a half-century of hindsight, as inherently "evil." More impor-
some of Smith's complaints seem tantly, in the penultimate letter, he
petty. The idea of Clark Ashton criticizes "The Return of Hastur"
Smith selling stories to Hugo Gerns- for what we now recognize as a
back, even before the bedrock trademark of the Derleth Mythos
definition of science fiction evolved, and its many contributors: "you
is ludicrous. Whereas most of have tried to work in too much of
Cernsback's science fiction writers the Lovecraft mythology and have
accepted the form as a limited space not assimilated it into the natural
in which to work out their imagina- body of the story."
tions, Smith used "science fiction" Smith's letters are valuable for
as a stepping off point into worlds the Derleth criticism alone. As in-
totally of his own creation. The sights into the character of their
poetic possibilities of a new land- author, they render a sketch of a
scape, not its scientific plausibility, man very different from his cor-
were his concern. Small wonder respondents, whose very human
that Smith compares himself to likes and dislikes are often miti-
Lovecraft's own Randolph Carter, a gated by a sense of humility. From
seeker of "the unknown, the un- the evidence here, the lament
charted, the exotic" in the land of sounded for Lovecraft that he dis-
the banal, and eulogizes "science, sipated too much of his enormous
philosophy, psychology, humanism talent by pouring it into his letter
. . Iasi only candle flares in the
. writing rather than his fiction will
face of the eternal night with its not be leveled against Smith. If
infinite reserves of strangeness, anything, the ordinariness of these
terror, sublimity." letters makes Smith's dreamy fan-
But if Smith chews a sour grape tasies seem all the more extraordi-
or two, he is also perceptive, chas- nary.
tizing Farnsworth Wright for "play-
ing safe when he can't find a prec-
edent for some particular tale Charles C. Waugh and Martin H.
method of selection that is none too Creenberq (eds.), 13 Short Horror
favorable to originality" and making Novels. NY: Bonanza, 1987, 758
thoughtful recommendations to Love- pp. HC, $8.98.
craft on his stories. (By suggest-
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz
ing that Lovecraft have Derby ani-
mate the corpse of Asenath through The short novel form gives writ-
knowledge of black magic, he may ers chance to develop ideas that
a
have been the first to point out a need more than twenty thousand
major flaw at the end of "The Thing words to take off but that would
on the Doorstep.") fall short of the fifty thousand
just
Maybe the most important letters word runway. What it generally
here are not the ones to Lovecraft, gives editors and publishers,
but the nine (included as an ap- though, is a pain in the neck. The
pendix) written in response to things are unwieldy they take up
August Derleth within two months half a short story collection and
of Lovecraft's death. Derleth seems they have to be serialized in maga-
to have had it firm in his mind by zines. The best indication of their
then how he wished to display bastard-child status is the fact that
Lovecraft to the world through the we've yet to give them a real name:
 . )

Yuletide 1987 / 47

novelettes? novellas? short novels? the sources of "The Call of Cthu-

Luckily, Messrs. Waugh and lhu" begins with the vivid 1920
Greenberg got the idea that a nice- dream in which Lovecraft plays the
sized anthology could be made out role assumed later by the artist
of short novels alone. Hence this Wilcox, ends with his sitting down
collection, a bargain even if you've to write the story in 1926, and con-
already got most of the selections. siders in between the influence the
There's quite a broad range Brooklyn incarceration, the Kalems,
here: from as far back as Arthur an earthquake and readings of
Conan Doyle's The Parasite to Fritz Machen and de Maupassant all may
Leiber's Horrible Imaginings of have had on the story's develop-
1982; from the Civil War South of ment.
Manly Wade Wellman's Fearful Rock Rounding out the issue are Will
to the South Pacific site of Ted Murray's discovery of "A Probable
Sturgeon's Killdozer from the bath-
;
Source for the Drinking Song from
tub gin gangsters of Cornell Wool- 'The Tomb'" in a song by Puritan
rich's Jane Brown's Body to the whipping boy Thomas "Merry
psi-entists who ride George R. R. Mount" Morton, and "Mythos Names
Martin's transgalactic Nightflyers . and How to Say Them," in which
Mythos fans alone get four differ- Bob Price sticks his neck out to
ent sides of the subgenre: early provocatively theorize that Dagon
Mythos (Long's The Horror from the is not an entity unto himself, but
Hills )late Mythos ( The Shadow out
, only another, "safer" name for
of Time ), Derleth-style Mythos Cthulhu. The idea of giving abom-
(Stephen King's Jerusalem's Lot ) inable gods sanitary names for the
and nouvelle Mythos (Ted Klein's purpose of public worship has its
Children of the Kingdom ) precedents, and Price notes that in
Weighing in at about fifteen Lovecraft's fiction we see Cthulhu,
thousand words each, maybe Ray but only hear of the worship of
Bradbury's Frost and Fire and Ray Dagon. This potentially controver-
Russell's Sardonicus don't warrant sial paragraph-long observation
the short novel moniker. But con- calls for fullerdevelopment.
sidering the average story length is Don Burleson is also on hand
a line or two shy of sixty pages, with his deconstruction of "The
why carp about length? Terrible Old Man," but be prepared
to strap on your "new criticism"
hip- waders. Burleson offers some
Lovecraft Studies #15; Studies interesting insights on the conflict
in Weird Fiction #2; $4.50 each. between perceptions, beliefs and
Necronomicon Press, West Warwick, actions of characters in the story,
Rl 02883. but the thick jargon permeating the
essay makes it as much a study of
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz his critical methodology as of Love-
Although readers of this maga- craft's brief tale. Likewise Don
zine need no inducement to pick up Herron's "'The Red Brain': A Study
a copy of Lovecraft Studies many ,
in Absolute Doom" in Studies in
will find Peter Cannon's "Arkham Weird Fiction #2. It is good to see

and Kingsport" a good reason for Donald Wandrei getting critical at-
acquiring #15. An excerpt from tention, and Herron makes valid
Cannon's forthcoming book on Love- points, but he devotes half the es-
craft, the essay focuses on stories say to explaining "paralogical di-
Lovecraft wrote between 1920 and mensionality" through an example
1923 when he first began to convert completely unrelated to Wandrei's
his beloved New England into the story. Furthermore, it's question-
Miskatonic region. By coincidence. able whether this point of critical
Cannon's essay is bracketed by reference is essential to Herron's
Steve Mariconda's "On the Emer- argument.
gence of Cthulhu." This search for The biggest reason for picking
 .

<48 / Crypt of Cthulhu

up Studies in Weird Fiction #2 is the stories even begin, his adven-

S. T. Joshi's "Arthur Machen: Phi- tures seem about as exciting as
losophy and Fiction." Although it those of a wakes up
priest who
takes up more than half the issue, every morning knowing he must put
this cornerstone essay concisely Satan behind him.
summarizes Machen's work as an ex- A similar problem dogs Brian
tension of his philosophy (some Lumley's early Titus Crow stories.
would say prejudice) regarding the Lumley's overachieving psychic
spiritual nature of mankind. Joshi sleuth / cryptographer / numerologist
explores his thesis through several is so well equipped to handle what
common themes in Machen's work, the Mythos throws at him that his
among them the concept of "pierc- exploits read less like horror sto-
ing the veil" thrown over reality ries than mystery tales: it isn't a

and the contrast between the ro-
mantic and material sides of life.
In shorter efforts, Will Murray is
back with a possibly lost sonnet of
Clark Ashton Smith's published in
The Thrill Book and a reprint of
, getting trapped in "De Marigny's
E. F. Benson's appreciation of J.
Sheridan LeFanu yields up a gem as
quotable today as it was fifty-six
years ago: "The moral is excellent,
but who wants a moral in a ghost
story? We can unbend our minds
over morals afterwards."
Brian Lumley,
Crow . Buffalo, NY:
191 pp., $7.50.
Brian Lumley, Demogorgon
Grafton, 1987. 333 pp., $5.95.
Weirdbook #22, Summer, 1987.
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz)
With the exception of the ubiqui-
tous Randolph Carter, H. P. Love-
question of whether Crow will sur-
vive but how he'll manage to do it.
In "The Caller of the Black," he's
saved by knowing a counterspell
few mortals are aware of; he avoids
Clock" by being respectfully cau-
tious of the unknown. In "An Item
of Supporting Evidence," he is so
safe and smug in his wisdom that
he appoints himself to the task of
exposing the Mythos to others.
If Titus Crow sounds more like
a Sherlock Holmes of the paranormal
than a Lovecraftian figure, it's be-
The Compleat cause Lumley made the Mythos only
Canley, 1987. one of his many outre interests. In
later Crow stories if the Mythos ap-
pears at all, it is kept in the back-
ground, subordinated to voodoo
("Darghud's Doll"), warrior ghosts
("The Viking's Stone"), a Crowley-
esque mage ("Lord of the Worms"),
even the Antichrist ("Name and
Number" )

craft appears to have had little in- These later stories are better
terest in series characters. In written, because their supernatural
particular, no series character ap- complications are more suitable to a
pears in his Mythos fiction and for know-it-all. But they are not with-
a good reason: human beings are out their problems. Although Lum-
of the least importance in these sto- ley shifts their focus from the cos-
ries. They are there to piece to- mic indifference of the Mythos to
gether the few facts given them, the more familiar battle between
draw their limited conclusions and, good and evil, copies of the Cthaat
as the reader's surrogate, be hor- Aquadingen G'Harne Fragments and
,

rified at the implications. Could other Mythos tomes still sit on the
the impact of such knowledge on a library shelves at Blowne House,
character be quite the same the making a mockery of the moral uni-
second time around? August Der- verse Titus Crow is fighting to
leth seemed to think so when he preserve. More importantly, where
put together the stories for The the early Crow stories seemed as
Trail of Cthulhu and most would, lacking in plot as some of Derleth's
agree that it was a big mistake. tales, the later ones are sometimes
Because Laban Shrewsbury knows overplotted. Both "Lord of the
everything that's at stake before Worms" and "Name and Number"
 ,

Yuletide 1987 / 99

turn on tricks of numerology. Lum- Because the novel is less encum-

ley a whiz at fiddling with dates
is bered with subplots than Necro -
and to get them to do his
digits scope it
,
moves briskly. That's a
bidding, but all the reader can do good thing, too, since the story
is sit back and watch him work out leaves a few questions unanswered,
the pat ending. There's no real several of which arise from a sur-
engagement at this level of the sto- prise ending that seems to contra-
ry. It's a little like playing black- dict an earlier episode. Once again,
jack when you know the dealer has Lumley resorts to numerology to
an ace-in-the-hole and all you can show how the Antichrist has timed
do is sit waiting for him to flip it his return to coincide with the
up. nuclear age. His system, which in-
The Compleat Crow is beautifully volves a cycle of regeneration from
illustrated by Steve Fabian and which a certain number of years is
contains all of the short Titus Crow subtracted each time, is not fully
stories, including the very obscure explained. This leaves the reader
"Name and Number" and "Incep- conscious of its having been plotted
tion," the first story of the Crow backwards from 1983, rather than
saga chronologically, but newly amazed at how 1983 is the culmina-
written especially for this collec- tion of centuries of preparation.
tion. Readers who own Lumley's But the fact that Lumley plotted it
Arkham House books already have at all is what distinguishes his tales
half of this collection, but the price of doom from the reactionary fan-
is right for acquiring the other tasies of those folks who proclaim
half. the return of Satan from soapboxes
The slope leading from the Titus and sandwich boards.
Crow series to Demogorgon is slip- Another side of Lumley can be
pery indeed. Although the novel found in Weirdbook #22 in the pulp
is not related to the series, its adventure nTn the Temple of Ter-
Antichrist figure and interest in ror." A sequel to "The Kiss of the
that part of Palestine uncovered Lamia" in Weirdbook #20, it's an
during the Megiddo archaeological action-packed sword and sorcery
digs in 1936 are pre-figured in yarn with enough thud, blunder
several of the later Crow stories. and cliff-hanging peril to grab your
Like Lumley's 1986 novel, Necro- interest. (Weirdbook #22 also car-
scope Demogorgon grounds the
,
ries Darrell Schweitzer's "The Chiv-
ultimate battle between good and alry of Sir Aldinger," another
evil in modern international politics, traipse through the warped land-
only this time it's not the East-West scape of Monty Python anachronisms
Cold War but the turbulent Middle that made his Tom O'Bedlam's Night
East that comes under scrutiny. Out enjoyable reading.)
What with the current state of
world affairs, the signs are right
for the emergence of the Antichrist Roger Johnson, Deep Things Out
and Lumley has him masquerading of Darkness (published by Carrie
as rich easterner named Khumeni
a Hall, 93 Beaumont Road, Lough-
(read into that name what you borough, Leicestershire, LE11 2AJ
will). To claim his earthly realm, England. L3 (Add postage: LI
though, Khumeni must secure two surface or L2 air mail). Pay in
stone tablets from behind the Is- cash, either pounds sterling or
raeli border and consummate the dollar equivalent.
necessary rites with his three sons. (Reviewed by Robert M. Price)
Charlie Trace may be one of those
sons, and the only way he can pre- This new booklet from the pub-
serve his own life is to foil the lisher of Tales After Dark is a col-
hellish trinity of Satan the father, lection of new tales by Roger John-
Khumeni the son, and Demogorgon son, whose work has appeared in
as a perverse Holy Spirit. Tales itself, though readers may
 . . )

50 / Crypt of Cthulhu

also be familiar with Johnson's work rum," a story of the Deep Ones,
in Ghosts 6 Scholars (or in The told by a Deep One, but entirely
Years Best Horror Stories where , free of Derlethian convention. The
his "The Scarecrow" and "The Wall other two, dealing with the pro-
Painting" have been reprinted). verbial lost prehuman city, are
These six stories belong to three too reminiscent of other stories by
different genres. "The Breakdown" HPL, Brian Lumley, and Lin Car-
and "The Taking" are more or less ter. Of the two Jamesian efforts,
in the tradition of M. R. James, "The Breakdown" seems to be too
though they cannot be called pas- abrupt (a fault shared by "The
tiches. "Your Own Light-Hearted Dreaming City" and "Ishtaol," which
Friend" is a tale of Jack the Ripper read almost like final climax chap-
and bears a certain resemblance to ters of longer works). All in all,
a certain well-known Robert Bloch the stories in this attractively pro-
tale, but it is completely original duced booklet seem to me not quite
nonetheless. Finally, "The Dream- Mr. Johnson's best work. None-
ing City" and "Ishtaol" (the second theless they are certainly enjoy-
a sequel to the first) and "Custos able, and publisher Carrie Hall
Sanctorum" are Cthulhu Mythos has made another solid contribution
tales to the small press horror field.
Of the three Mythos entries, the We may hope he is only getting
best, think, is "Custos Sancto-
I started

THE MAGAZINE MYTHOS. 19S6-1987

(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz
In the introduction to his 1980 Campbell singles out his own early
collection New Tales of the Cthulhu efforts and stories appearing in
Mythos ,
Ramsey Campbell observed fanzines as examples, but actually
that the Cthulhu Mythos had become this type of story can be traced
so overcrowded with stories "that it back to first generation Mythos
is now impossible to devise a coher- writers and to Lovecraft himself
ent pattern linking all of its as- (particularly in his revision work),
pects, even if one were foolish in tales where
playfulness of
the
enough try." Nevertheless, by
to naming creatures and books takes
its very nature, Campbell's book precedence over the supposed func-
suggests he was attempting to dis- tion of these elements: to show in
tinguish the stories he selected an original and frightening way how
from other types of Mythos fiction. the unknown intrudes upon and
By "new" tales, Campbell meant dwarfs human consciousness.
"less familiar treatments" of Mythos There are, then, two types of
ideas, but ones in which writers Mythos story. In the first, the
returned to "the first principles of terrifying impact of Mythos entities,
the
Mythos to give glimpses of books and locales derives as much
something larger than they show, from the way the story is told as
just as Lovecraft did." The type from what it tells (e.g., "The Call
he appeared to be setting his "new" of Cthulhu," in which fragmented
tales against were the ones that had events are put together to reveal a
begun to conventionalize the My- whole greater than the sum of the
thos. These stories had been pro- parts). The second treats the
duced by writers who "found it Mythos elements as ends in them-
easy to imitate Lovecraft's more selves (e.g., Derleth's Trail of
stylistic mannerisms and some of Cthulhu stories, in which the My-
his ideas" but more often than not thos is taken for granted and the
neglected "his skill in organizing focus of the story
or is a battle
his material and in atmospheric engagement that ends with the
preparation, or his originality." story's conclusion). These are the
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 51

two poles around which Mythos fic-
tion revolves today. We can avoid
the argument that the former is
better than the latter, or that the
second type is admissible because
it vastly outnumbers stories of the
first type, if we note that most
Mythos fiction written today issues
from the gray area between these
two extremes. Rather than try to
force artificial "Column A/ Column
B" labels on these stories, maybe
the best approach is to consider
how well they work as stories be-
fore worrying about whether they're
the "right" type of Mythos tale.
Anyone of the opinion that the
old style Lovecraftian story replete
with unassimilated facts and an ig-
norant narrator who puts things
together a little too late for his own
good is moribund should get a
copy of Deathrealm #2 ($3.00; Mark
Rainey, 8812 Jody Lane #2A, Des
Plaines, IL 60016). Editor Mark
Rainey's story "Threnody" adopts
the classic Mythos story form and
proves that it is still a very effec-
tive way to tell a story.
Don't be too surprised
that there's not a single
Mythos name to be found in "Thre-
nody." The story takes off very
tangentially from "The Music of
Erich Zann," with its suggestion
that music can be used to "open
up gateways to other existences."
It concerns a young man who re-
turns to his abandoned family home
in Virginia. He discovers there a
book of music theory by the slight-
ly eccentric Maurice Zann, and a
tape the man's grandfather made
based on those theories. And when
he decides to play that tape . .
Suffice to say that Rainey uses
the remote atmosphere of the Appa-
lachian mountains intelligently to set
up the menace of the story and to
keep that menace isolated yet immi-
nent at the end. He can be for-
given a gothic excess or two (and
perhaps a bit of fudging on
whether the volume or the frequen-
cy of the sound should be the
turning point of his story) if for
no other reason than the shock cli-
max, which catches the reader un-
aware even though it arises natu-
rally out of the events that pre-
cede it.
One of Deathrealm 's regular con-
tributors is Wil Pugmire. The third
issue of the magazine contains "A
Piece of Stone," one of Pugmire's
tales of the Sesqua Valley (a series
that also includes "Swamp Rising"
in Crue #9 and "The Winds of Yith"
from Chronicles of the Cthulhu
Codex #3). The Sesqua Valley is a
Mythos locale that does not take
kindly to strangers, dispatching a
man who fathered a child by a
Sesqua woman in "Swamp Rising"
and a publisher who wants to print
a book by a late native son of the
valley in "A Piece of Stone." The
stories differ from most other My-
thos tales in their development of
the personalities of the Sesqua res-
idents. They are a rural yet so-
phisticated folk, who are wary of
strangers because they are in close
communion with things strangers
wouldn't understand. The closest
parallel to one of Lovecraft's towns
would not be Arkham or Dunwich,
to hear where the actions of a few cast a
familiar pall over the generally innocent
majority, but rather Innsmouth,
where virtually all residents share
a common spirit. Unlike Innsmouth's
citizens, though, the Sesqua people
are fairly human, and Pugmire
presents them in such a way that
you feel more compassion for them
than for the occasional foolish in-
truder.
To date, no Sesqua tale has been
a stunner. "Swamp Rising" bor-
rows noticeably from "The Dunwich
Horror," "A Piece of Stone" falls
. back on a Lovecraft-by-way-of-Poe
ending and "The Winds of Yith" is
more a poetic vignette than a fully
developed story. Still, taken to-
gether, these stories represent an
interesting attempt to create an
original and atmospheric Mythos
setting
Whether or not "The Winds of
Yith" the best story in Chroni -
is
cles the Cthulhu Codex #3 ($5;
of
Fungoid Press, P. 0. Box 8099,
Lowell, MA 01853), it is certainly
the most original. This issue of
52 / Crypt of Cthulhu
the magazine also carries Edward P.
Berglund's "The Eyes of Dark-
ness," in which Yog-Sothoth is
summoned to a black mass in
small Oregon town every Halloween
to snack on a human sacrifice (local
townsfolk do the carving and dress-
ing). Rather than the two endings
we're used to seeing in a Mythos
story the end of the narrator's
experience, and the awareness that
grows out of and extends beyond
that experience Berglund has his
narrator assume his ordeal was a
dream and his friends prove that it
was not. The result is that we get
the same ending, twice. A familiar
shortcut used to set the reader up
with the necessary information-
having the journalist narrator bone
up on the Mythos by reading the
Nec ronomicon and several other
texts during an extended lunch
hour at the University of Nyingtove
library seems all the more amusing
if one has read Albert Manachino's
amusing "Eugenia and the Necro-
nomicon" ( Etchings and Odysseys
#9; $9.95; The Strange Company,
P. O. Box 869, Madison, Wl 53701 ),
in which a detective buys a paper-
back copy of the Necronomicon
at a stationery store and remarks,
'"I need some briefing on this black
magic crap.'"
Henry J. Vester III is present
with "That Noble Dust," a story
about what might happen if some-
body with the hobby of Charles
Dexter Ward got ahold of the "es-
sential Saltes" of Lovecraft. This
story is more of an homage to Love-
craft, in the manner of Derleth's
"The Lamp of Alhazred," so it can't
really be judged in the same con-
text as Mythos fiction. But Vester
makes it flippant enough at the be-
ginning that one wishes he'd fol-
lowed through and had the recon-
stituted Lovecraft stand up, remark
"You fool, don't believe in the
I used when he wanted to bury a
afterlife!" and crumble back into
dust, rather than have him act the
way he does.
Using Lovecraft as a character,
either by having him appear in per-
son or by suggesting that what he
wrote was fact, not fiction, is a
popular conceit of Mythos stories.
It can work, as it does in T. E. D.
Klein's "Black Man with a Horn," to
a enhance the story's feeling of au-
thenticity. More often, though, as
in Armas Salminen's "The Creature
Found in the Bog" in Etchings and
Odysseys #9, it's used to get
around having the Mythos creep up
slowly on the narrator. The title
of this story pretty much tells it.
A man finds a mummified creature
beneath a cairn in the Miskatonic
region. He summons a professor
from the University who is organiz-
ing "the Lovecraft collection of
curiosities" and the professor is
astonished to discover that the
creature is half Cthulhoid. Be-
tween the narrator's own digging
through local lore and a few long
distance trips made by the profes-
sor, the two discover that the thing
is linked to the Medfords, a family
of local outcasts, one of whose
women has taken up by a "tenta-
cled monstrosity" and who later
gave birth to the buried creature.
They put the thing in cold storage
under an Elder sign, because "'you
never know if that which spawned
this beast might decide to return to
claim its own.'"
It gives away none of the sur-
prise at the end to let you know
this because there is no surprise.
Salminen's story is a clear case in
which the existence of the Mythos
is given. The professor already
knows a lot about it from his work
with the Lovecraft collection, and
it's just a matter of figuring out
how to apply it to the chain of
events before everything falls neat-
ly into place. Since those events
lead to no discovery that isn't al-
ready clear from the start, the
elaborate family history Salminen
gives his characters, told in the
same meticulous manner Lovecraft
clue or two, serves little purpose.
The story is well told, but the real
Mythos story would have been the
bizarre experiences of the Med-
fords, and not the relatively innoc-
uous experiences of those who find
out about them a century later.
 .

Yuletide 1987 / 53

Salminen leaves his characters ter of the story, an interlude on

experiencing at least a remote sense why a book bound with human skin
of uncertainty at the end of "The sweats, is a better-built prop.
Creature Found in the Bog," and When we come to a showdown at the
this seems a reasonably important end, though, the props prove to
part of Mythos fiction, something have been the story's major attrac-
that distinguishes it from standard tions. Alhazred is prevented from
monster stories. A monster can be letting the Old Ones back into our
thwarted. Mythos creatures can be world by a Molotov cocktail, and in
thwarted, too, but the very fact spite of a two-page long anticlimax
that they exist should leave the at the end, we never learn why
reader horrified at mankind's termi- Alhazred is back at this time, and
nal vulnerability. This doesn't in Chicago.
happen in Duane Rimel's "The Hills The most conspicuous use of the
Behind Hampdon." This short sto- Mythos solely for the sake of ap-
ry tells how Bart Wolf gets ahold of pearance is what might be called
The Chronicle of Nath to pierce "the shaggai dog story" it has little
through to another dimension, does or no plot, and exists solely for the
so and gets pierced through him- purpose of seeing how much Mythos
self. The linear simplicity of the material can be jammed into it be-
eyewitness narrative makes it read fore the reader's patience wears
more like an abstract of a Mythos out. A good example is Leon Gam-
story, as does the sense of security mell's "Sword of the Necromancer"
the narrator feels when Wolf's notes in Etchings and Odysseys #8. Gam-
are burned. (Of course the mere mell's unwilling warrior Gedor is
fact of this being a new Mythos tale pressed into a quest for the Sword
by one of the original Lovecraft of Nythrax. To get it, he has to
Circle lend this story more than meet up with nearly every monster
average interest.) in the Mythos, peripheral and oth-
If it seems that too much empha- erwise, each of whom informs him
sis is being placed on Mythos fic- that the sword has been passed on
tion's one main gimmick, the build- to the next one in the pecking or-
up toward that final mind-boggling der. Each gives Gedor a charm for
revelation, consider what can hap- protection until by the end of the
pen when that gimmick is absent. story, he's dripping with more
When Mythos elements are used trinkets than a little old lady at a
solely for appearance sake and not Macy's jewelry sale. The story is
for any far-reaching implications nothing more than a tableau for
they may have, there is no urgent these confrontations, which wear
need for them to build up to the thin by about the third time
final unforeseen discovery, and around. (By the way, Gedor even-
they end up sounding unspectacular tually gets the sword and throws it
just when they should be bowling away, but that's the least of our
us over. Such is the case with concerns here.) It would be easy
Charles Baker's three-part serial to say Gammell had written this
"Shadow of the Immortal" (begun in story tongue-in-cheek if he didn't
Eldritch Tales #11 and concluded in do the same sort of thing again in
#19, having skipped an installment "Tales of Zid Yargoth" in Etchings
in #12). The story spends its first and Odysseys #9. This narrative
two sections establishing that an is comprised of several interlocking
obscure Chicago bookdealer who exotic vignettes that can only be
sells an unusual amount of Necro - brought together by that most un-
nomicon originals is actually writing exotic ending, having the main
them himself because he is the character die of fright at something
latter-day incarnation of Abdul that never happens and that he has
Alhazred. This is just a prop the been anticipating for an entire
reader will have figured out long year
before the narrators do. The cen- Stories of this kind lead natu-
54 / Crypt of Cthulhu

rally to a growing offshoot of the Lansdale's Dead inthe West has fi-
Mythos, in which the cosmic is nally concluded in Eldritch Tales
changed to the comic. The comic #13. The story tells ofthe irrev-
Mythos works on the premise that if erent Reverend Princess, who
you stretch credibility for Mythos spreads the word of the Lord and
fiction far enough, eventually it will frontier justice throughout the West
come flying back in your face with (Solomon Shane?), and his adven-
the impact of a well-tossed pie. The ture in a town whose dead have
best (or, considering the way you come back for revenge. For all the
feel after reading one of these sto- strength of Princess' development,
ries, the worst) of the bunch is though, Lansdale doesnt give him
Peter Cannon's "The Thing in the much to do when the fireworks
Bathtub" Eldritch Tales #12; $6;
( start, and the story is surprisingly
Crispin Burnham, 1051 Wellington limp for a writer of the author's
Road, Lawrence, KS 66044) which talent.
ambitiously satirizes the New York Each of the last few issues of
horror writer community and the Eldritch Tales has carried a poem
structure and content of the Mythos or dream vignette by the ever re-
without ever coming close to the liable Steve Tern. Tern is also pres-
story its title evokes. Ironically, ent in Crue #5 ($4; Hell's Kitchen
one gets a very good idea of My- Productions, P. O. Box 370, Times
thos mechanics from a story like Square Station, New York, NY
this because the point where ob- 10108) with his touching but chill-
servance of Mythos elements ends ing "Mother Hag." Also to be found
and the flight into whimsy begins in Crue #5 quite possibly the best
is always clearly marked. Many reason for buying the magazine is
readers will say that there is no Thomas Ligotti's nightmare of the
place the Mythos for stories like
in psychic residue left behind at "Dr.
J. Travis' "Halloween in Ark-
J. Locrian's Asylum."
ham" ( Eldritch Tales #13) which Etchings and Odysseys continues
comes up with a new test for a to provide valuable bibliographic in-
babysitter's sincerity; Albert Man- formation. Mike Ashley, the patron
achino's "Eugenia and the Necro- saint of pulp magazine information,
nomicon" Etchings and Odysseys
( continues his history of Weird Tales
#9) which shows how Mythos crea- in issue #8 with a short chronicle
tures can be as perplexed about of the magazine's publishing history
being summoned as the people who in the U.K., " Weird Tales English
summoned them; and Randall Lar- Style." It doesn't generate the
son's "From out of the Past" (El- same smothered chuckles as Ash-
dritch Tales #13) which advises you ley's look at the Canadian printing
to read the fine print of your el- history did in issue #6, but it's
dritch grimoire. They could be still required reading for fans and
right. But to put these stories in collectors. On the subject of Weird
the proper perspective, ask your- Tales , the centerpiece of Etchings
self, you rather laugh at a
would and Odysseys #9 is Hugh Cave's
Mythos story that was trying to be "Spawn of the Inferno," from the
funny and succeeded, rather than October 1932 issue. The most in-
at one that was trying to be taken teresting point Audrey Parente
seriously and failed? brings out in the accompanying in-
* * * terview and appreciation of Cave is
that although he respected Love-
Readers
should note that there craft, he wasn't exactly knocked
are other good reasons for picking over by him. This makes for an
up the magazines mentioned above interesting comparison to Duane
besides (or in spite of) the Mythos Rimel's "A History of the Chronicle
fiction. Those with a Howardian of Nath" and "Lovecraft Years I,"
bent will be interested to know that which appear in the same issue.
the four-part serialization of Joe Both discuss Rimel's long-lived
 . .

Yuletide 1987 / 55

idolatry of Lovecraft as his mentor. DANCEHALI CHURCH RAZED

Finally, anyone who has bought
The Strange Company's annotated Sometime during a violent thun-
versions of Lovecraft's "Epistle to derstorm on the weekend of July
Maurice Moe" and "Epistle to Fran- 25, 1987, the infamous "dancehall"
cis, Ld. Belknap" will want to make church near the rotting wharves of
a trio of it with Steve Mariconda's Red Hook formerly St. Steven's
"On Lovecraft's 'Amissa Minerva.'" parish church and the site of Ma-
The poem, reprinted in full, is an- lone's nightmarish confrontation
other of Lovecraft's satires on the with the fo-ces from the outside in
"transient madness" masquerading "The Horror at Red Hook," was
as the poetry and literature of his rocked by a partial collapse. The
age. Mariconda's introduction and building, long abandoned, suffered
annotation are thorough, pointing from a weakened structure, which
out more what Lovecraft appreci- is why it was abandoned when the
ated in Virgil, Milton, and Words- parish shrank to a few dozen mem-
worth than what he obviously de- bers sometime in the late 1950s.
spised in Carl Sandburg, Amy Low- Eyewitness accounts differ as to
ell, and Edgar Lee Masters. He the cause of the collapse. Some
supports his remarks with refer- residents of the benighted area
ences to the Selected Letters as spoke of lightning hitting the build-
well as the classical works that ing sometime during the storm;
Lovecraft specifically touts. others claim the roof collapsed un-
der the weight of the sudden rain-
fall (which measured about two
MAIL-CALL OF CTHULHU inches in less than an hour). In
(continued from page 33) any case, sometime after midnight,
July 25, the roof caved in and the
And a point in passing
to make east wall was rent by a three-inch
I resent referred to, even
being break
casually, "good ol' boy."
as a If It was during the first week in
I may elaborate though do live I September that the landmark Love-
in a notoriously backwater state, craftian site was razed. Now noth-
I neither play the banjo, swig ing remains but an empty lot, and
moonshine from a clay jug, nor even attempts to salvage a brick
chew on a piece of straw as go I from the structure were in vain.
about feeding my chickens, slopping The haulers removed all debris
my hogs, or shovelling the endless within twenty-four hours of demoli-
piles of chicken-manure in my front tion and surrounded the site with a
yard large metal fence.
Lastly, please allow me to put This is a sad day for all Love-
forth as a follow-up to this rebut- craftians, but the rotting structure
tal, few authors in my own Rev -
a was sure to collapse under its own
elations from Yugqoth (and this is weight in time. Though the Catho-
in the first three issues alone): lic diocese was often approached by
M. E. Counselman, J. A. Salmon- locals to reopen the church, the
son, Alice I'anson, Janet P. Reed- small congregations in the area be-
man, and Cathy Miller, to name a lied any interest in the dying re-
few. Perhaps might be spared
I ligion. Now the infamous "dance-
from future accusations now that hall" church on the edge of Red
you have seen that am not awash
I Hook is no more than a fading mem-
with archaism? ory .

--Shawn Ramsey --Reported by Red Hook

Anderson, IN denizen Mark A. Cerasini
 )

56 / Crypt of Cthulhu

MAIL-CALL OF CTHULHU
recently got a peek
I at a film In a recent "Mail-Call of Cthu-
script called Lovecraft . I recalled lhu" department. Will Murray, I

hearing of a mysterious film by that think it was, refers to "Lovecraft's

titleannounced last year in Variety famous Brooklyn mugging." HPL
and wondered if it was about our was never mugged, in Brooklyn or
Lovecraft. otherwise. He was out late one
The mystery is solved. It is. night into the small hours, in fact
And it isn't. How do describe I and when he returned to his
Lovecraft ? lodgings he discovered that two
Set in 1996, science has been suits, and some other articles, had
replaced by magic. Everybody uses been stolen. This upset him, of
magic to do everything from build course, but not to anything like
houses to solving personal prob- the extent that has been implied.
lems. Except our hero, H. Phillip He did not look upon it as disas-
Lovecraft better known as Phil. trous. called the following day,
I

Phil Lovecraft is a private eye, and he told me that George Kirk,

hopelessly stuck in the past (read: who occupied the Barnes Street
1950s) who is hired by an old gee- apartment upstairs, had supplied
zer to recover a mysterious tome, him with some needed things, etc.,
the Necronomicon The old geezer
. and helped him get in touch with
wants to open up the Cate and let the police.
in the Old Ones, and he knows Sprague redefined "schizoid" in
that Phil won't be tempted to keep another fairly recent "Mail-Call" de-
the book for himself because he partment, and the disagreement I

abhors magic. had with him concerning the term

Phil is a Sam Spade type, wise- in relation to HPL in Twilight Zone ,

cracking and bored. There's the etc. is now gone. By widening

usual PI trappings of the nightclub, the term to include so broad a
its crooked owner and chief singer spectrum of highly creative writers
who is Phil's lost love. he makes applying it to HPL no
The so-called Lovecraft touches longer unsound.
are absurd. The nightclub is called
Frank Belknap Long
"The Dunwich." The old geezer New York, NY
lives on Miskatonic Lane. Entities
to be summoned include Cthulha, Youmight appreciate a little tale
Trathogyua and Yog-Sothoth. The that love to tell about the Cthulhu
I

plot fails because the virgin to be Mythos. Years ago had lunch I

sacrificed surprise isn't a virgin
! with Frank Long and asked him how
after all. (That's the same ending, HPL pronounced "Cthulhu." Frank
practically, to the recent Monster didn't even look up from his soup
Squad . bowl, paused between spoonfuls,
It reads awfully. hope it I and with little or no hesitation re-
never gets made. It's sort of The plied: "Damned if I know, I don't
Dunwich Horror Meets the Maltese think Howard did either!"
Falcon and set in a Blade Runner- Dick Fawcett
style future. Uncasville, CT
kid you not.
I This is all true.
also heard
I that The Lurking cannot help but consider that
I

Fear been put aside while the

has the thrust of Leon Gammell's essay,
director does something unLove- "A Pre-Lovecraft Cthulhu Dreamer"
craftian. So much for Lovecraftian (Crypt #45), is focused on the
movie news. wrong individual in the Lovecraftian
--Meldrum Hawkins Circle. Though I haven't read
San Diego, CA Shortt/Matthews The Rod and the
 Vuletide 1987 / 57

Snake, synopsis provided by

the tion of Ramsey Campbell juvenilia is
CarmneM would suggest more of a truly horrifying, but probably not
tie-in with Robert E. Howard's tales in the way young Master Campbell
of the macabre rather than HPL's. hoped at the time. This will, I

Take the Snake-Rod. Nowhere in suspect, be one of your most amus-

Lovecraft's body of works do we ing unread issues ever. The very
find the presence of a rod. How- thing for completists, either for
ard, on the other hand, uses a rod Campbell, or for Crypt of Cthulhu .

in his Solomon Kane tale, "The Hills (Truly, you will know I'm dead
of the Dead," in which the black when my
run of Crypt changes
shaman, N'Longa, gives it to the hands.) But wonder, how many I

Puritan adventurer. In "Footfalls folks actually r ead the whole thing?

Within," an Arab slaver sees the It's fun to dip and skim. In short
rod, and relates its history, telling doses the Ghostly Tales are very
how it was used to fight evil in the funny indeed. But didn't feel I

Elder World. In both cases the two any inclination to read every bloody
rods come from Africa, though from (in every sense) word. In fact,
different coasts. the prospect fills me with nameless
Even the blatant racism in some dread ...
or maybe eldritch
of Howard's
fiction seems to have dread. One of those dreads.
direct to the racism exhibited
links wonder, too, if by publishing
I

in The Rod and the Snake In fact

. them Campbell has truly protected
two of his tales, "Black Canaan" himself from literary necrophiles
and "The Moon of Zambabewei," who will, long after he's dead, want
seem to have their roots in the to unearth little-known and rare
Shortt/Matthews tale. In "Black tales by this master of the macabre.
Canaan" we have the presence of Then, he's probably too sentimental
Saul Stark and the mulatto girl he to burn a manuscript that must
brings with him. The girl bears have meant a lot to him at one
the same qualities of Samero, the time.
"half-breed black" villainess. In doubt
I shall ever become so
I

"Moon of Zambabewei," the same famous that face this dilemma.

I I,
scenario appears. John de Albor, too, have files dripping with hid-
the villain, is also a half-breed who eous verbal ichor which have thus
lusts after the hero's love, and un- far remained unburnt. even had I

leashes powers he can't control to look through them recently,

among his followers. Shortt/Mat- for a Writer's Digest article for
thews' other supporting villain, an example of what not to do!
Brisac, is also a "half-breed Hai-
Darrell Schweitzer
tian adventurer" who also falls in Strafford, PA
love with the
protagonist's love,
and tries to save her from being Ghostly Tales is a real coup and
sacrificed to the Ape (as de Albor a most fitting vehicle for a fiftieth
tries), and fails. In both "The issue. Thanks to Ramsey and
Moon of Zambabwei" and The Rod yourself, unique contribution
it's a
and the Snake an ape is a central
,
to the genre
aside from a few
:

force, even if the latter appears to HPL don't recall seeing

items, I

be a supernatural manifestation, early work of those who later be-

while Howard's is an evolutionary came professional writers, and it's
misfit. interesting to see where Ramsey
Frankly, a more logical title for was coming from, a full generation
the essay should have been, "A ago. Muchos gracias as they say ,

Pre-Howard Elder World Dreamer." in Liverpool.

--Tom Rathgeber Robert Bloch
Coram, NY Los Angeles, CA
The horror The ho rror to coin
I I really got a kick out of Ram-

I

a phrase. Your 50th issue's selec- sey Campbell's stories and art
58 / Crypt of Cthulhu

great fun. I can't tell you how knows, a very Christian sense of
much I have been enjoying all your good and evil has reappeared in his
publications. particularly enjoy
I work. One doesn't want to make
your fiction issues (which doesn't too much out of this, but it would
mean that I'm advocating all fiction appear that Campbell's earliest in-
and no articles), and you are to be fluence never completely left him,
commended for turning up so many and is now coming out in a more
enjoyable yarns. really liked the I mature and original form.
Ligotti piece of a few issues back.
Stefan Dziemianowicz
Allen Koszowski Union City, NJ
Upper Darby, PA
I am happy to see the Crypt
The Ramsey Campbell stories continuing into the fifties and be-
were interesting they read . . . yond without any slackening of its
like the sort of stories you find in amoral fibre. The mixture of
a juvenile's collection of ghost and scholarship, offbeat humor and de-
horror stories, especially if one bate maintain a climate not dissimi-
person writes them all. Simple and lar to that encountered in Love-
obvious stories, just the sort of craft's own correspondence. The
thing to get a kid started before he occasional mysteriously located epis-
experiences the deeper, more so- tles from such exalted personages
phisticated thrills of Lovecraft, as Mr. Curwen help place matters
Bierce and Poe. The illos were not in a welcome perspective.
so hot, however. Campbell's Ghostly Tales imma- ,

--Charles Carofalo ture as they were, offered more

Wayne, NJ genuine entertainment than most
fiction offered in the fanzines. The
Crypt #50 will surely become a occasional striking image and the
collectors item. My favorite was frequent flatness of narrative tone
the short novel "Bradmoor." The made a few of the tales memorable
best lines, undoubtedly: "I am a if not entirely successful. A few
private psychic investigator" (How others, notably "The Devil's Cart"
do you know when a psychic inves- and "Bradmoor," read like high
tigator isn't private?) and "Have camp variations on Hammer horror
you ever been in a pentacle on films. The speech given by the old
Walpurgisnacht?" (No, but then I villager in "Bradmoor," sounding
had a very sheltered childhood.) like an odd combination of Love-
Ramsey Campbell deserves a free craftian rustic dialect and the bare-
drink from everyone for having ly intelligible ejaculations of Gabby
the courage to show us his juvenilia Hayes or a fifth-rate pirate, was
when so many other authors have almost as worthy of praise as "the
burned reams of theirs out of em- aforementioned skeleton."
barrassment. And while everyone
James Rockhill
is going to get a jolly good chuckle South Bend, IN
out of how far Campbell has come,
I think there are things worth not- Some comments on Crypt #51 :

ing in Ghostly Tales For the most . In "The True History of the
part these stories were concerned Tcho Tcho sic People," you claim
[ ]

with the conventional bogies, vam- that "Lair of the Star-Spawn" was
pires and werewolves all of us cut August Derleth's "first" Mythos
our teeth on (and us them). Not story, yet believe it was preceded
I

surprisingly for a ten-year-old, by a few others. For instance, Der-

there's a lot of his Catholic up- leth was working on "Something
bringing running through them too. from Out There" in May 1931. Cor-
Campbell eventually put that be- respondents of Derleth refer to a
hind him in his Lovecraft pastiches, story in January 1931 as his
but as anyone who has read novels "Death-Walker " which ,
believe is
I

like Th e Hungry Mo on or Obsession "The Thing That Walked on the

 Yuletide 1987 / 59

Wind" because in that story, the Spawn" and the apparent chronolo-
term "Death-Walker" is used as a gy of the stories, I'm inclined to
synonym for "Wind-Walker." But in think that "Wind-Walker" was really
a letter dated 13 July 1931, Love- the first story in which the Tcho-
craft remarks to Derleth that he Tchos are mentioned.
read several seemingly recent sto- Personally, think the only
I

ries of his "with the keenest inter- thing significant about the Tcho-
est, 6 liked "The Thing that Walked Tchos is that Lovecraft mentioned
on the Wind" best of all. them offhandedly in one of his sto-
It is difficult to tell in what or- ries. Beyond that, and the aside
der the collaborations with Schorer in the letter and the revision tale,
were completed, but wouldn't I who cares? The "additions" and
place "Lair of the Star-Spawn" as embellishments to the Mythos by
early as you do. In the letter writers following Lovecraft's death
quoted above, Lovecraft expresses are really of little importance to
interest in seeing "The Horror from Lovecraft scholars, though imag- I

the Lake" (i.e., "The Horror from ine they are of great importance to
the Depths"); Derleth had recently those who study the Mythos as a
submitted that story to Weird Tales literary sub-sub-genre. To borrow
for publication, and it was rejected a phrase from Jeff Newman, think I

for lifts of Lovecraft's mythology essays like yours "trivialize" Love-

and even the very wording from craft's work. The only reason I

Lovecraft's stories (a situation happen to know so much trivia

which Lovecraft conceded he actual- about Derleth's early Mythos stories
ly liked "The Horror
. from the is that feel that the record needs
I

Depths" seems to precede "Lair of to be set straight about the origins

the Star-Spawn," but since the and development of Lovecraft's
stories were all written during a pseudomythology, and so need to I

few weeks in the summer of 1931, see where the distorting influences
exact sequence probably means very (primarily Derleth's) originated.
little. Otherwise, have no interest in the
I

In any case, Lovecraft wrote to so-called Cthulhu Mythos and the

Derleth on 18 August 1931 that he endless additions by others than
looked forward to seeing "Lair of Lovecraft and the very small circle
the Star Spawn." Incidentally, the of his literary contemporaries.
title of the story is one of two that Ithink it should be mentioned
Lovecraft suggested as alternates to that Derleth wrote about nine or
Derleth's initial title (Lovecraft to ten "Mythos" pieces before Love-
Derleth, 25 August 1931). In the craft died in 1937, although most of
earlier letter, Lovecraft said "those those appeared in print after Love-
Tcho-Tcho people sound tremen- craft's death. don't think thatI

dously interesting." can imagine I Lovecraft saw more than three or

Lovecraft making such a statement four of these, but since he does
only if the earlier reference to the not always refer to Derleth's stories
Tcho-Tchos in "Wind-Walker" was by name in his letters it is difficult
slight (or if Lovecraft forgot it) to just what Derleth passed by
tell
and if Derleth hinted in a letter Lovecraft. You ask if Lovecraft,
that he was going to address them by mention of the Tcho-Tcho peo-
in some detail. ple, "tolerated or even blessed
To fill in for Derleth's memory Derleth's version of the Mythos."
lapse, can tell you Lovecraft read
I This is an extremely difficult ques-
"Star-Spawn" in manuscript form. tion to answer, considering the na-
He said in one letter, "I still insist ture of Lovecraft's usual comments
that 'Star Spawn' is a good story. to Derleth about his stories. Con-
You boys always run down some of sider the comment that Lovecraft
your best things. ." Consider-
. . made above, that Derleth always
ing the detail with which the Tcho- ran down some of his best things.
Tchos are discussed in "Star- I think such comments must be
60 / Crypt of Cthulhu

weighed carefully because Lovecraft dorsed by the Tcho-Tcho lama with

was obviously offering encourage- his actual name written in Tibetan.
ment to Derleth, and encouragement I'd love to know how it transliter-
does not mean espousing the con- ates into English phonemes. think I

tent of a story or a philosophical I mean phonemes . . .

concept. You must also remember This chap astonishes me.

Ligotti
that Lovecraft tended to look to- Seems he came out of nowhere
like
ward the writings of others for un- just recently and is already an ac-
usual names to drop in his stories, complished master, as far as I'm
and that he wasn't pushing his concerned. "Vastarien" was the
stuff onto other people to write for single best story in #99, and "Mue-
him (as you so often claim). Love- lenburg" is another gem of a story.
craft's reaction to "additions to the His sublety of effect, control of
Mythos" seems to have been cordial, mood and atmosphere, and sheer
but not enthusiastic. He wrote to power of eerie suqqestiveness would
Henry Kuttner, "I appreciate the have delighted Lovecraft himself,
compliment implied in the use of who admired that sort of thing but
some of my settings 6 dramatic couldn't do it any more than can.
entities" (16 February 1936). Love- Suggest you spin off another
craft's wording is very careful Cryptic sibling: Ligotti Tales and ,

here, and think it should be con-

I put together everything he's pub-
sidered carefully in future study of lished so far. He is a marvel!
his mythology. Derleth frequently Pray inform Paul R. Wilson that
made statements that Lovecraft en- "eluctidation" means to surgically
thusiasticallyencouraged people to remove sufficient skin and meat
expand the Mythos, but think I from a living human body to expose
that greatly exaggerated.
is Oddly to view the naked pulsating slimy , ,

enough, Derleth chastized Kuttner organs within.

in 1936 long before he founded . Hideous enough
. . for you
Arkham House and assumed the role now, Paul R.?
of Defender of the Mythos for us- Lin Carter
ing Lovecraft's "gods" and such, Montclair, NJ
and Kuttner backed off, thanking
P. S. Grey Ginter's cover drawing
Derleth for the advice to avoid imi-
was excellent. Get more art
tating or using Lovecraft's work.
from him!
Odd advice for the man who wrote
more Mythos stories than anyone to
be giving. You may wonder then The Hallowmassive issue arrived
why Kuttner wrote so many Mythos and enjoyed it as always.
I But
stories. I believe that most of the one of the statements in Shawn
Mythos tales mentioned in Shawn Ramsey's fine article on Henry
Ramsey's article had already been Kuttner's work needs to be cor-
accepted by Weird Tales at the time rected. There was a draft of "The
Derleth advised Kuttner to nix the Black Kiss" written by Kuttner
Mythos. which he couldn't sell to Weird
You should have subtitled the Tales or any other market: he sug-
"Limericks from Yuggoth" "Shaggai gested revise it, and
I did a com- I

Doggerel." Truly wretched stuff. plete rewrite. But the basic prem-

David E. Schultz ise was his, not just the name,
Milwaukee, Wl "Michael Leigh."
Robert Bloch
Crypt was certainly packed
#51 Los Angeles, CA
with good stuff. Surprised to learn
"Tcho-Tcho" really means some- Regarding Randall Larson's arti-
thing: thought Derleth just made it cle "Innsmouth Spawn," please note
up! Does Tani Jantsang read Ti- the sculptor Jeffrey Corey in "Inns-
betan? Remember, HPL's letter to mouth Clay" was already related to
Bloch was countersigned or en- (continued on page 33)
NEXT TIME

Never let be said that there is even a scrap of Love-

it

craft's literary output that escapes our notice here at Crypt of

Cthulhu. In fact, that's precisely what Crypt #53 is about:
scraps. Our "Lovecraft's Fragments" issue says more than you
would have guessed possible to say on the small set of unfin-
ished story drafts Lovecraft left behind:

"On 'The Book'" by S. T. Joshi

"On 'Azathoth'" by Will Murray
"On 'The Descendant" by S. T. Joshi
1

"The Thing in the Moonlight': A Hoax Revealed"

by David E. Schultz
"Where Was the Place of Dagon?" by Will Murray
"Faulty Memories and 'Evill Sorceries'" by Robert M.
Price

CRYPT OF CTHULHU

Editor
Robert M. Price
Fiction Editor and Reviewer
Stefan R. Dziemianowicz
Contributing Editors
S. T. Joshi Will Murray
.

Columnists
Lin Carter . Carl T. Ford

Copyright O 1987

Cryptic Publications
Robert M. Price, Editor
107 East James Street
Mount Olive, North Carolina 28365
Cover art by Guy Cowlishaw