Other things that we should be reading....

[dadavoodoo]

I had on the old forum put this up. There are other thing we should be reading as well. So I'll start this off by say that I just finished "The Historian" by Elizabeth Kostova. A grate use of using face to find a horror at the end! Also a short story for us to read and I say it is a must read for any Lovecraft fan is The Horla, or Modern Ghosts by Guy de Maupassant. I must say it is one the best stories I have ever read. (If only I could wright like that!) I know that Chad (I think it was him) in the last part of C.O.C. talked about Maupassant being "ill" at the time of this. what I have found about this pice was he was not. Still a great note that H.P.L's father died because of having the same "illness".
Please put up here other books story and what not that you think we should read other then Lovecraft. Also the do not have to be horror. I find that some times the most horror can be found in day to day life.

[MartinRonnlund]

I'd recomend that people check out Thomas Ligotti. Not all of his stories are good, but they are all wonderfully odd. Many of his stories are what I'd call white-collar horror... it has alot to do with workplaces, the horror of co-workers, bosses, sub-bosses, PTS-reports etc. All with a nice horror-twist, ofcourse.

[DMcCool]

I just checked out some of this Thomas Ligotti person.  Apparently there was a graphic novel done of some of his short stories (The Nightmare Factory).  I read it and am not certain what to think.  Either the comic adaptation did the stories little justice, or this stuff is too weird to make sense.  My local library doesn't have anything by Ligotti, so I am perusing what I can before spending any money.

I'm going to investigate a bit more, as well as check out Clive Barker's Books of Blood.

[MartinRonnlund]

I just checked out some of this Thomas Ligotti person.  Apparently there was a graphic novel done of some of his short stories (The Nightmare Factory).  I read it and am not certain what to think.  Either the comic adaptation did the stories little justice, or this stuff is too weird to make sense.  My local library doesn't have anything by Ligotti, so I am perusing what I can before spending any money.

I'm going to investigate a bit more, as well as check out Clive Barker's Books of Blood.

I own those two graphic novels and they are not nearly as good as the novels, so I would not hold it against Mr.Ligotti. However, I do find The Last Feast of Harlequin to be the exception, that one is rather good as a graphic novel. But isn't that usually the case? I mean, horror where half the point is that it's unnameable and utterly terrifying kinda loose their edge if you can actually SEE the unnameable.

[DMcCool]

Yeah, that story was first, so I thought it set a good tone, but the rest just tapered off into making less and less sense.  The mannikin one reminded me of an old Twilight Zone episode.

[helios1014]

Clark Ashton Smith: Read this story to see why Lovecraft loved this guy

[MartinRonnlund]

Clark Ashton Smith: Read this story to see why Lovecraft loved this guy

I just bought the Klarkash-Ton Cycle and I must say that it's pretty uneven. Some stories are extremely lame Poesque stuff and others, like The Vaults of Abomi, are just fantastically horrific. But I'd definitly recomend his stuff overall.

[BogartBumquest]

After the interview with S.T. Joshi, I reserved a copy of I am Providence: the Life and times of H.P. Lovecraft.

A story That I think Lovecraft would hate and love at the same time is House of Leaves I am finishing it up now. Not really too lovecraftian, but has alot of influence. Invisible stalkers, decay of the human mind, stark realism, and geometry that would make Cthulhu say what the Ph'nglui.

I am considering looking into Lord Dunsany, but havent started yet.

[old book]

Um read Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Destiny of Nations. Here, it's short, I'll paste it in and bold the important bits (the specific HPL stories involved seem to include Shadow over Innsmouth, more specifically the Dagon cult there, and Call of Cthulhu) and cut it to a minimum:

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,
Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured
To the Great Father, only Rightful King,
Eternal Father! King Omnipotent!
To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good!
The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!
Such symphony requires best instrument.
Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom’s trophied dome
The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields
Of Brutus and Leonidas! With that
Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back
Man’s free and stirring spirit that lies entranced.
For what is Freedom, but the unfettered use
Of all the powers which God for use had given?
But chiefly this, him First, him Last to view
Through meaner powers and secondary things
Effulgent, as through clouds that veil his blaze.
For all that meets the bodily sense I deem
Symbolical, one mighty alphabet
For infant minds; and we in this low world
Placed with our backs to bright Reality,
That we may learn with young unwounded ken
The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love,
Whose latence is the plenitude of All,
Thou with retracted beams, and self-eclipse
Veiling, revealest thine eternal Sun.
But some there are who deem themselves most free
When they within this gross and visible sphere
Chain down the wingéd thought, scoffing ascent,
Proud in their meanness: and themselves they cheat
With noisy emptiness of learnéd phrase,
Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences,
Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all
Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves,
Untenanting creation of its God.
But Properties are God: the naked mass
(If mass there be, fantastic guess or ghost)
Acts only by its inactivity.
Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier think
That as one body seems the aggregate
Of atoms numberless, each organized;
So by a strange and dim similitude
Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds
Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs
With absolute ubiquity of thought
(His one eternal self-affirming act!)
All his involvéd Monads, that yet seem
With various province and apt agency
Each to pursue its own self-centering end.
Some nurse the infant diamond in the mine;
Some roll the genial juices through the oak;
Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in air,
And rushing on the storm with whirlwind speed,
Yoke the red lightnings to their volleying car.
Thus these pursue their never-varying course,
No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild,
With complex interests weaving human fates,
Duteous or proud, alike obedient all,
Evolve the process of eternal good.
And what if some rebellious, o’er dark realms
Arrogate power? yet these train up to God,
And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day,
Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom.
As ere from Lieule-Oaive’s vapoury head
The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun
Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows,
While yet the stern and solitary Night
Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn
With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam,
Guiding his course or by Niemi lake
Or Balda Zhiok, or the mossy stone
Of Solfar-kapper, while the snowy blast
Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge,
Making the poor babe at its mother’s back
Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while
Wins gentle solace as with upward eye
He marks the streamy banners of the North,
Thinking himself those happy spirits shall join
Who there in floating robes of rosy light
Dance sportively. For Fancy is the power
That first unsensualises the dark mind,
Giving it new delights; and bids it swell
With wild activity; and peopling air,
By obscure fears of Beings invisible,
Emancipates it from the grosser thrall
Of the present impulse, teaching Self-control,
Till Superstition with unconscious hand
Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not vain,
Nor yet without permitted power impressed,
I deem those legends terrible, with which
The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng:
Whether of pitying Spirits that make their moan
O’er slaughter’d infants, or that Giant Bird
Vuokho, of whose rushing wings the noise
Is Tempest, when the unutterable Shape
Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters once
That shriek, which never murderer heard, and lived.
Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance
Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean’s bed
Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave
By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered, such
As Earth ne’er bred, nor Air, nor the upper Sea:
Where dwells the Fury Form, whose unheard name
With eager eye, pale cheek, suspended breath,
And lips half-opening with the dread of sound,
Unsleeping Silence guards, worn out with fear
Lest haply ’scaping on some treacherous blast
The fateful word let slip the Elements
And frenzy Nature. Yet the wizard her,
Arm’d with Torngarsuck’s power, the Spirit of Good,
Forces to unchain the foodful progeny
Of the Ocean stream; — thence thro’ the realm of Souls,
Where live the Innocent, as far from cares
As from the storms and overwhelming waves
That tumble on the surface of the Deep,
Returns with far-heard pant, hotly pursued
By the fierce Warders of the Sea, once more,
Ere by the frost foreclosed, to repossess
His fleshly mansion, that had staid the while
...

[Kaelestes]

Um read Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Destiny of Nations. Here, it's short, I'll paste it in and bold the important bits (the specific HPL stories involved seem to include Shadow over Innsmouth, more specifically the Dagon cult there, and Call of Cthulhu) and cut it to a minimum:

I tried to read that three times, but my brain kept shutting down.

[DMcCool]

I didn't get any Lovecraft from that in the slightest, old book.  Sorry.

If anything, it was like something from the Dream Cycle works, but much more theistic in the traditional sense (as it presents a positive, or at the very least appreciative, view of "God").  I also couldn't help get a little feel of the likes of William Cullen Bryant's Thanatopsis, though much more allegorical and a lot more... loquacious. 

I certainly had no mental imagery of anything from the Cthulhu Mythos (Dagon, Innsmouth, or otherwise... though "Balda Zhiok" vaguely reminded me of the name "Zadok Allen", but that may have been because you had it in bold and I was looking for a reference).  Short of having invented some internal mythology for the purposes of his writings, I don't think this and Lovecraft are even in the same ballpark.

I don't mean to be off-putting, though.  It was a very interesting work.

[saegeas]

Lord Dunsany and Algernon Blackwood, two major (self-declared) influences on Lovecraft.  I've just discovered Blackwood this year, and am reading as much all I can get at the local libraries.  Sincerely felt spooky stories, written with great style.

[old book]

Yeah, it's not directly related, but this is what I'm thinking:

HPL read it and got some ideas that show up in his stories.

Which ideas?

-The evil cult of degenerate Esqimaux living up on the ice sheet in Western Greenland, see Cult of Cthulhu

-The Order of Dagon in Innsmouth, according to ol' Zadok, was all about a fish fertility cult. Innsmouth folk had good fishing even when everyone else was hauling in empty nets. This later extends to the gold from no one knows where: prosperity because of Dagon worship.

How does this tie in with the Destiny of Nations by Coleridge?

-Coleridge has the evil Esquimaux shamans contacting the sea goddess for marine prosperity, in other words, good fishing.

-Tornasuuq is the male counterpart of this Goddess of the Sea and shows up in CoC under Coleridge's spelling, iirc.

Plus there are those weird proper nouns in Coleridge's poem which look like Dunsany and/or HPL. Can't help thinking of Gnoph-Keh from Horror in the Museum when I read Coleridge's weird names.

I might be connecting dots the wrong way here, but it seems to me HPL read and used stuff from this poem. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate HPL's reworkings a lot more than Coleridge's poem, which is long-ish and slightly strains the eyes. If anyone is truly interested, the poem is on wikisource.org as are the solid majority of HPL's tales.

[helios1014]

Other story of interest, N. by Stephen King. It can be found in a new collection called Just after Sunset and an online movie version here.

King on this story: Not Lovecraft; it’s a riff on Arthur Machen’s “The Great God Pan,” which is one of the best horror stories ever written. Maybe the best in the English language. Mine isn’t anywhere near that good, but I loved the chance to put neurotic behavior—obsessive/compulsive disorder—together with the idea of a monster-filled macroverse

Which reminds me, I am currently reading The Great God Pan and it is an interesting book. Cannot give it the seal of approval yet but I am still trying to finish it so that says something.

[Deadhand]

I always recommend the works of Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) to my friends who enjoy Lovecraft's stories.  He was a fan of HP, and dedicated the story ""There Are More Things" to him.  Borges' stories have a remarkably similar tone to HP's, though many of them were written before he was aware of the latter's works.  Borges' tales don't involve the mythos or really any kind of "monsters".  Instead, he writes of ancient books and civilizations, curious happenings, paradoxes, etc. 

The good news is that he wrote numerous short stories that a person can read in a single sitting, just to get a flavor of the Argentinian's style. 

Some of my favorite stories, with Wikipedia summary excerpts because I'm too lazy to write out my own:

The Library of Babel (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Library_of_Babel):  "Borges's narrator describes how his universe consists of an endless expanse of interlocking hexagonal rooms, each of which contains the bare necessities for human survival—and four walls of bookshelves. Though the order and content of the books is random and apparently completely meaningless, the inhabitants believe that the books contain every possible ordering of just a few basic characters (letters, spaces and punctuation marks). Though the majority of the books in this universe are pure gibberish, the library also must contain, somewhere, every coherent book ever written, or that might ever be written, and every possible permutation or slightly erroneous version of every one of those books. The narrator notes that the library must contain all useful information, including predictions of the future, biographies of any person, and translations of every book in all languages. Conversely, for many of the texts some language could be devised that would make it readable with any of a vast number of different contents."

Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tl%C3%B6n,_Uqbar,_Orbis_Tertius):  "In the story, Uqbar initially appears to be an obscure region of Iraq or of Asia Minor. In casual conversation with Borges, Bioy Casares recalls that a heresiarch (leader of a heretical sect) in Uqbar had declared that "mirrors and copulation are abominable, since they both multiply the numbers of men." Borges, impressed with the "memorable" sentence, asks for its source. Bioy Casares refers him to an encyclopedia article on Uqbar in the Anglo-American Cyclopedia, described as "a literal if inadequate reprint of the Encyclopædia Britannica of 1902."[1] It emerges that Uqbar is mentioned only in the closing pages of a single volume of the Anglo-American Cyclopedia, and that the pages describing Uqbar appear in some copies of the work, but not in others.  Borges, the narrator, is led through a bibliographical maze attempting to verify the reality or unreality of Uqbar. He is particularly drawn to a statement in the encyclopedia article that "…the literature of Uqbar… never referred to reality, but to the two imaginary regions of Mlejnas and Tlön..."

The Lottery of Babylon (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery_in_Babylon):  "The story describes a mythical Babylon in which all activities are dictated by an all-encompassing lottery, a metaphor for the role of chance in one's life. Initially, the lottery was run as a futuristic lottery would be with tickets purchased and the winner receiving an unspecified reward. Later, punishments and larger monetary rewards were introduced. Further, participation became mandatory for all but the elite. Finally, it simultaneously became so all-encompassing and so secret some whispered "the Company has never existed, and never will."