Pelan, John, and Benjamin Adams, eds. The Children of Cthulhu
. New York: Ballantine: 2002.
For six decades, the Cthulhu Mythos continues to stun August Derleth fans.
For it was indeed Auggie Doggie, as I call him, who conceived the Mythos
as a classic struggle between good and evil in a dubious revision of Lovecraft's
universe. A superior mystery writer, Derleth did not have much of a
feel for the supernatural, let alone a sense of cosmic horror, but fortunately
some of his Mythos followers did.
Lovecraft, a lifelong atheist, felt that the universe was a cold, mechanistic
place, utterly indifferent to man, who is a brief bubble in the
wash of time. Derleth wanted to restore the anthropocentric universe and
make some of the Lovecraftian entities evil and others good, battling it
out in a classic but never ending saga. This inspired many horror writers
to join in the fray. Often frivolous, seldom with a real sense of cosmic
horror, writer after writer added creatures, texts, locales and characters
to the mythos. Fanzines and pulps led to hard-bound anthologies and
coffee-table books. This unnamable, unpronouncible thing that Derleth
started in the 1930's became the international phenomena it is today.
The Children of Cthulhu represents the newest generation of Mythos
writers. They're brash. Their buzzy voices sound like insects,
or they gibber and meep. All of them accomplished writers, they turn
out well-structured tales with clear plotting and prose. Most of the
them sound alike. The dust jacket says these tales were "inspired
by H.P. Lovecraft" like movies that claim to be "inspired by actual events."
The Mythos is merely a starting point or a context for an otherwise straight
horror tale. A few of them sparkle with originality, but not many
have anything new to add to the Mythos.
One of the best stories, award-winning British writer Mark Chadbourn's
"Sour Places," has little to do with the Mythos at all. It evokes the
dismal atmosphere of a economically depressed English community. The
author's descriptive power and characterization sets him apart from the
pack. Though the tale seems to show Lovecraftian influence, it could as
easily be that of H.G. Wells or any number of Weird Tales alumni.
Then there's "That's the Story of My Life", co-written by editors John
Pelan and Benjamin Adams, fair writers themselves. The characters
seem real and fleshed out, though the plot progresses to a predictable ending.
It has the added insult of a punch-line purloined from a Hannibal Lecter
movie. The discovery plot is the standard backbone of the horror tale,
though it was H.G.Wells who first had his hero discover he was Star-Beggoten
in the 1930's. "Long Meg and Her Daughters" by Paul Finch, follows
the tradition of mentioning Lovecraftian venues and books. With interesting
details about Leng, the frozen waste, the Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan and
the popular divinity, Shub-Niggarath, it is a satisfying Mythos tale, fully
developed and well conceived. The author shows his knowledge
of Lovecraft's works, not just dropping a passing reference to an entry in
the Encylopedia Cthuliana.
It contrasts with the next tale by Alan Foster Dean. "A Fatal Exception
Has Occurred At...." This tale asks what would happen if a computer
hacker threatened to post the dreaded Necronomicon on the Internet.
Safely locked up in the in the Widener Library, a hacker sneaks in and scans
the entire book. He uses Internet chat to blackmail the FBI, who fortunately
call in Herman Rumford. This academic Van Helsing's hobby is the study
and eradication of evil. He turns the network against the blackmailer
in a novel way. Again, the Mythos elements of the story slight and
could stand without it. Dean is up to his old tricks with a charming
if lightweight story.
In "Red Clay," Michael Reaves has another stand out story about artistic
obsession. In it, Zeb Latham, a simple-minded "scion of hillbilly stock,"
becomes a compulsive sculptor after his contact with the mysterious red
stuff. Like most obsessive behavior in fiction, his work ends
with tragic results--another Lovecraftian theme, but scarcely even a footnote
to the Mythos. James S. Dorr's "Dark of the Moon" is interesting because
it connects the science fiction aspects of Lovecraft's work and aligns it
with Poe and H.G. Wells. He depicts Russian cosmonauts as they
land on the far side of the Moon near the crater Tsiolkovsky. They
have strange apocalyptic visions of ancient cataclysms. The tale even
invokes Chernobog, the Slavic god of evil who inspired Moussorgsky's "Night
on Bald Mountain." It's a worthy addition to any man's myth.
The Mythos is very conducive to humor, as anyone who read fanzines such
as The Crypt of Cthulhu would know. Meredith Patterson's "Principles
and Parameters" takes an in-depth look at the Pnakotic Manuscripts by subjecting
it to linguistic analysis with a computer. Naturally the ancient
text resists ration dissection and the heroine descends into a dream world.
The author manages to work in references to Lovecraft's The Dream-Quest
of Unknown Kadath and "The Cats of Ulthar," yet neither one is part of the
Mythos. She also gets credit for the creative use of the Lovecraftian
favorite words "gibber" and "meep."
The balance of the stories in the collection are fair to good, with little
or no insight or addition to the Mythos. It's not comparable
to the definitive Mythos anthologies the Derleth did for Arkham House or Ballantine,
nor are the authors adequate substitutes for Robert Howard, Clark Ashton
Smith or Robert Bloch. The Mythos isn't what it used to be, but
this collection gives a glimpse of what it can become. The editors
saved the best two tales for last. Brian Hodges "The Firebrand Symphony"
made me miss my bus stop. It's a story about auditory horror, a more
Lovecraftian theme than most. Lovecraft used sound very effectively
in his fiction with alien, buzzing voices, insect sounds, and even phonograph
records in "The Whisperer in the Darkness." The astronomy-minded Lovecraft's
"music of the spheres" was sinister and chilling. Composers from Tartini
to George Crumb attempted to evoke horror with music; here is an real success
story.
The protagonist is a avant garde musician who acquires a giant skull from
Miskatonic University. Unlike the standard screaming skulls found in
horror stories for more than a hundred years, this one sings. The narrator
makes samples of this chant and puts in the background of the film music
he's working on. The story reveals interesting notes about the history
of Miskatonic University's outre research and its unique solution to the
difficulties encountered. With all the interesting side notes on ancient
giants, Miskatonic expeditions and musical theory, the story descends into
a discovery plot where the narrator finds shocking information about his
ancestry. It's a cautionary tale for genealogists.
"Teeth" by Matt Cardin has a riveting if over-the-top conclusion.
Lovecraft often wrote about the "terrifying vistas" that would appear as
the sciences pooled their data, discovering a mechanistic, uncaring universe
ready to swallow mankind in a single gulp. This tale describes the consequences
of just such a weird revelation. Surely madness and death will pursue
those who pursue absolute knowledge. Cardin alludes to those who see
Lovecraft's fiction as thinly veiled truth about the world. Perhaps
they are right. How much do we really know about the universe or even
ourselves. We may well be swallowed up by some pan-galactic monstrosity
without so much as a peep.
Anyone who has seen the film Army of Darkness, knows that one mention
of the Necronomicon does not a mythos tale make. Lovecraftian
creations are showing up everywhere, from episodes of Batman to Japanese
animation. Even a mainstream best-seller, Foucault's Pendulum,
by Umberto Eco, mentions Cthulhu, for heaven's sake. Somehow,
however, this fails to phase even this hardcore Lovecraft fan, for it shows
that despite its many deviations from the original spirit and intent of Lovecraft
and Derleth's work, the Mythos still has power to unnerve.
