The
Crucial Lovecraft
(c) 2006 Ramsey Campbell
The fathers of the modern horror story are Poe in America and
Le Fanu in Britain, both of whom refined Gothic methods to produce
some of the greatest short stories in the field. Nor should
Hoffman's psychological fantasies be overlooked. If I take Lovecraft
to be the most important single writer of the weird, it's because
he unites the traditions that preceded him on both sides of
the Atlantic and builds on their strengths. His Supernatural
Horror in Literature is not only an appreciation of all that
he found best in the genre and a critique of the flaws he saw,
but also a statement of his own artistic ambitions. His fiction
gives them life.
To an extent his reputation is the victim of his most famous
creation, the Lovecraft Mythos. It was conceived as an antidote
to conventional Victorian occultism - as an attempt to reclaim
the imaginative appeal of the unknown - and is only one of many
ways his tales suggest worse, or greater, than they show. It
is also just one of his means of reaching for a sense of wonder,
the aim that produces the visionary horror of his finest work
(by no means all of it belonging to the Mythos). His stories
represent a search for the perfect form for the weird tale,
a process in which he tried out all the forms and all the styles
of prose he could.
Nevertheless the Mythos is his most visible bequest to the field,
because it looks so easy to imitate or draw upon. As one of
the first writers to copy Lovecraft without having known him,
I must take some of the blame for the way his concept has been
rendered over-explicit and over-explained, precisely the reverse
of his intentions. Luckily his influence is far more profound.
In his essays and letters he was able to preserve the notion
of horror fiction as literature despite all the assaults pulp
writing had made on its best qualities, a view that was especially
fruitful in the case of Fritz Leiber, who followed his mentor's
example of uniting the Transatlantic traditions. Other correspondents
such as Robert Bloch, Donald Wandrei and Henry Kuttner assimilated
his vision into their own. More recently such diverse talents
as T. E. D. Klein, Thomas Ligotti and Poppy Z. Brite have acknowledged
Lovecraft's importance to their work, but who could accuse any
of them of simple mimicry? His use of suggestion and allusion
might seem beyond the reach of most filmmakers, but I submit
The Blair Witch Project as the most Lovecraftian of films, not
least in the documentary realism he urged upon serious artists
in the field and in the inexplicitness with which it conveys,
to use his phrase, dread suspense.
Yet Lovecraft's achievement lies not so much in his influence
as in the enduring qualities of his finest work. Who can forget
the cellars of Joseph Curwen, the alien colour, the grotto beneath
Exham Priory, the mountain that walked or stumbled, the graveyard
above the tower, the handwriting out of time and so much else?
"I must be very deliberate now, and choose my words."
He did, and more of his successors should. The field would be
all the richer if more writers learned from both his care for
structure and his larger principles. His yearning for the cosmic
is the greatest strength of his best tales. He is one of the
few masters of the tale of terror that reaches for, and often
attains, awe.