A&E

Poe and Lovecraft — Gorgeously Ghastly

Note: This article is hosted here for archival purposes only. It does not necessarily represent the values of the Iron Warrior or Waterloo Engineering Society in the present day.

So midterms are finally done (even if the word still leaves a foul taste in your mouth) and Halloween is finally upon us, so undoubtedly you’re going to be just dying to get back to reading some books! Of course, nothing is more satisfying this time of year than cuddling up in your sweater with a good story… but not any story will do. No, ‘tis the season to be spooky! And so I have for you today two of the greatest maestros of mayhem and orchestrators of all things chilling: Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft.

Now in the progression of horror, Poe was before Lovecraft’s time, and so thus many people will play the same old cards: the wisdom of Poe being a pioneer in the genre, versus Lovecraft having dedicated his entire writing career to it. Each person might find themselves more taken with one author versus the other, but taking the time to appreciate either (or each!) of them is rewarding in the most gruesome sense of the word.

To start with Poe, I’m sure most of you have read (forcibly or not) at least one or two of his short stories or poems in your lifetime. One of the ways Poe differs from Lovecraft is the fact that he was as much an author of poetry as he was prose. Two of his most famous works are poems: the mournful lament for Annabelle Lee, and the ever-quoted poem of death and descent into madness, The Raven. Both of these alone are such gorgeous pieces of poetry, if not unfortunately over-dissected due to schools’ love of symbolism.

Both of these fall into Poe’s worst (perhaps best?) cliché, the loss of a man’s beautiful love, but this cliché is so ageless that even these two apparently similar tales have different spins on them. In The Raven, the narrator seems to be conflicted about his sorrow on the loss of his Lenore, and ponders aloud to the raven as if he should simply forget the loss and move on with his life, or keep the memories of the girl and bask forever in the sorrow of loss. Now that’s quite the happy choice to make, right? It doesn’t help when the raven just answers everything you say with the over-dramatic “nevermore” — either nevermore to be happy, or nevermore to think of his memories of Lenore. Have fun with that, buddy.

Annabelle Lee might have just as depressing a topic, but it is far less depressing with the way in which the widower tries to look at the death of his love. It reflects (somberly, mind you) on their lifetime together, and many a reflection on how much he loved her. However, his frustration and unwillingness to let go is far more resolved than the previous guy — he claims that angels must have been jealous of their love, and thus stole her away from him, which is far more romantic and somewhat comforting of a way to look at the loss of a loved one. He makes a promise that nothing in hell or heaven could ever separate their souls, which is a pretty clear statement of how much he cared for her. Aside from the slightly odd last image of him lying down by her corpse in her tomb by the sea in the last stanza, it seems like a far softer and comforting way to look at the death of a loved one, and focuses far more on the relationship and love rather than the loss itself.

Now that I’ve spoiled those two for you, I’m going to be nice and recommend a third thing for you to go check out– no, not The Tell-Tale Heart, although it is quite the fun little tale of insanity. This is the, somewhat parallel, Cask of Amontillado. While The Tell-Tale Heart deals with an almost purely psychotic man, this short gem has a far cooler, more composed demeanor that I far prefer to read. But the two narrators do share murderous tendencies… and a love of shoving people in places they shouldn’t be. The Pit and the Pendulum is a classic in its own right as well.

Opposed to Poe’s preference of putting the horrors of humanity on display, Lovecraft is far more concerned with things that exist beyond our petty realm and — more importantly — the humans who are stupid enough to go around poking at them. The fun thing about the Lovecraftian world is that many of his short stories have subtle hints at other short stories — the Cthulhu (kuh-thoo-loo), his personal half octopus, half dragon creation (with some human sprinkled in there somewhere) and probably his golden-boy in terms of fame, can be seen referenced to in numerous of his stories with subtle references. Also, his fictional book, The Necronomicon, is brought into the stories (or at least mentioned) as often as possible.

Lovecraft’s love of the supernatural makes his stories very description-oriented, and are often told directly. Perhaps Lovecraft’s worst cliché is his love for people to write their horrifying tales in journals, to be later read by other unsuspecting people, as the likelihood of the protagonist surviving is only moderate. This also lends a certain predictability for the stories — you  know Mr. Man is going to die, so that is not going to be a surprise. But fortunately, this almost adds to the suspense of the story, as anticipating the guy’s untimely demise is almost worse than the act itself.

One of the best traits of Lovecraft’s stories is the diversity of scenarios he explores. Although there are some common traits — things not of this earth, disturbing unnatural forces,  natives familiar with the strange things, people going insane because of what they have seen — there is almost every base covered in terms of what you find terrifying. From killer insects in The Winged Death, to things that wait to strike whenever you sit exposed and unprepared in the darkness in The Lurking Fear, there is almost certainly at least one story in his collection that will make your skin crawl.

There are some interesting spins on his stories too, though. The Outsider, a very brief tale, describes a man’s tragic fate as he describes his lonely life of solitude, never having remembered contact with people but as a far-off memory, almost from another life. One day, when he climbs his dark castle tower to find sunlight in his endless forested world, he finds himself reaching the “real world” only to discover that he is actually a ghoul-like being.

Another personal favourite is From Beyond, a tale of the narrator’s eccentric physicist friend who created a device intended to allow humans to perceive that which our senses are too dull to recognize, and in the process revealing a supernatural environment that exists separate and parallel to our own. However, this also works in reverse, and as the humans are allowed to see the strange beings, they too become aware of our existence, and seem none too fond of the humans (when are they ever?).

The choice of Lovecraftian stories is nearly limitless, but some personal recommendations would be The Shunned House, The Dreams in the Witch-House and, of course, the ever-popular Call of the Cthulhu.

So whatever personal cup of chilling tea is your favourite, do be sure to check out these authors this Halloween season. Both authors, from an age a-gone, can lend something a little different to your celebrations this year. They both have such eloquently written works, that it can make those normally dissatisfied with horror fall in love with the genre, and those who deem old writers “boring” enthralled by the language. So wait until 1:00 AM, turn off the lights, and get sucked into a macabre world– I’m sure you are just imagining that brushing feeling on your back…

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