Hallow-Reading: At the Mountains of Madness: The Definitive Edition

Like many avid readers who have certain books that they enjoy, this is not the first time I've read H.P. Lovecraft's, At the Mountains of Madness, a fairly short (in terms of page count), but dense (regarding descriptive language and vocabulary) horror novella. Just as in order to consider oneself to be "well-read," a reader must have engaged with one of the Bronte sisters at some point, it would be hard to take someone seriously as a well-rounded student of literature who has not at least sampled Lovecraft if not as recreational reading, then as a student of genres. Too often, I think horror, like romance, is marginalized and compartmentalized so as to be seen as unworthy. Au contraire, mon frère!

Though I would classify AtMoM as more of a short story (albeit an extended one), the hook for my reading of this recently published "Definitive Edition" was the new introduction by British author (and occasional comic book writer of DC Comics's 2012 Dial H series) China Miéville. Beyond Lovecraft's tale, it is Miéville's analysis that this comment will focus in great part on.

Here is a brief teaser for AtMoM (BarnesandNoble.com): "The Barren, windswept interior of the Antarctic plateau was lifeless—or so the expedition from Miskatonic University thought. Then they found the strange fossils of unheard-of creatures...and the carved stones tens of millions of years old...and, finally, the mind-blasting terror of the City of the Old Ones." This is one of Lovecraft's pieces that would become integral to what is now understood as "the Cthulhu mythos."

The thing about AtMoM, and Lovecraft's work in general, is that much of the imagery contained therein has so permeated our popular culture by this point that most folks don't even know enough to recognize the original source. From the recent film Prometheus (2012), to the many video game (the Gears of War trilogy and Borderlands to name two) character designs to list, Lovecraft's detailed and dark descriptive language has been lifted to such an extensive degree that what was once perceived to be iconic can now be mistakenly thought to be common. What Miéville' introduction (which includes some spoilers for the uninitiated) does is to offer some historical context to Lovecraft's style and craft that creates an interesting gateway to deeper literary analysis of fiction writing in general, and the horror/supernatural genre in particular.

In the "real world" I am a high school English teacher, and can attest to the fact that deep literary analysis, beyond simply identifying basic literary strategies at work, and a somewhat superficial presentation as to the reasons behind the author's choice of strategies, is among the most challenging skills for students to master in an authentic voice. Unfortunately, it is also a skill that is not meaningfully tested on government mandated assessments and so is deemed unworthy of extensive effort in most classrooms.

As I read Mieville's essay, I considered how I could use it in some more advanced classes as an example of deep literary analysis as it touches on some important considerations that excellent students are capable of making, given the opportunity. In fact Mieville's thesis (from the second paragraph), points the reader in the proper direction for initial analysis: "... we must see Lovecraft as a product of his time. We can make sense of him, and his astonishing visions, only to the extent that we understand him as defined by the specific horrors, concrete and psychic, of the early twentieth century."

Also included as part of The Definitive Edition is Lovecraft's own literary analysis piece "Supernatural Horror in Literature." Whether as entertainment (for which this edition is not necessary and much of Lovecraft's stories are available in most good public libraries) or for an academic burst of analysis, I recommend At the Mountains of Madness for an eerie and breezy summer read. If you'd like to borrow this edition (or another), please let me know and I'd be happy to share.

You do think of yourself as "well-read," no?

Summer Reading: The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All

Thanks to a slow week administering exams and the need to close-up shop in advance of the impending summer school break, my personal summer reading season has begun early. Truth is, I live in a yearlong reading cycle, and with current events being what that are, this has never been so true or vigorously adhered to. My "Must Read" table overflows with books awaiting opening. Ironically, I continue to cleanse my mental palette of orange, homicidal, lying monsters by mixing in cosmic horror. The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All by Laird Barron, published in 2013, is the third of his collections, after Occultation (2010) and The Imago Sequence (2007) I've read.

Both collections of short stories were a terrifying, uncomfortable pleasure to read and The Beautiful Thing is no different. When I recommend Barron's stories to others, it is often with the with the suggestion that Barron's short story work (I've yet to read his well-regarded novels) are perfect for those who appreciate the literary stylings of H.P. Lovecraft. (I also share that the dread and discomfort that comes with Barron is much more visceral, at least for this reader.) If anything, this most recent collection brings Barron's vision into more direct alignment with Lovecraft's. There is little need for me to formally review this collection, there are plenty of reputable reviews online to be read if that is the desire. I do have a couple of thoughts however from the perspective of the "guy sitting on his porch after having been given a good fright."

Lovecraft's influence is most overt in the collection's seventh story "Vastation" (which means "the action or process of emptying or purifying someone or something, typically violently or drastically"), a collection of reminiscences from the perspective of self-ascribed "herald[s] of the Old Ones" (199). Here, a timeless entity of sorts recounts experiences from the distant past, present and future as he prepares our world for cleansing. The unique point of view shifts from the Dark Ages to the future of robot cats adding a layer not explored by Lovecraft (whose Cthulhu mythology was only made more concrete after his passing). Balancing grotesque imagery such as the Mushroom Man's mission to "liquify our insides and suck them up like a kid slobbering on a milkshake (200) with light humor in the form of the unnamed (maybe "McCoy" as in the real McCoy?) narrator's affection for Fat Elvis and his own robo-cat, Softy-Cuddles.

Beyond the fantastic imagery, cosmic horror and scary "magical realism" in The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All, this collection does two things I always appreciate in writing:

Saturn Devouring His Son 

by Fancisco De Goya

1. I really dig when author's prompt me research in order to fully grasp what's happening. Each of Barron's stories includes a cultural allusion or use of diction that had me going to the smart phone, not so much for basic comprehension but for a sharpening of understanding. This especially rewards when considering the titles  The previously mentioned "Vastation" for one or the need to refresh my visual memory regarding Francisco De Goya's painting Saturn Devouring His Son. Doing so only brings into even greater clarity the creepy image created by Barron's words at the conclusion of "Jaws of Saturn". 
2. Despite the collection nature of short stories, Barron weaves symbols and motifs throughout. In both the narratives and publishing artwork the ouroboros makes appearances. I also found it cool to come across the image of staring at a single red dot against a wall as a portal to other worlds a number of the stories. Again, this is not meant to be mind-blowing observation on my part, but a recognition of the care taken in selection and creating a tone (and message?) for the text as a whole.

I continue to enjoy the short stories of Laird Barron. My past experience with Barron suggests that he is the rare horror writer whose work benefits from re-reading (Occultation remains on my "Must Read" pile despite having been read and re-read). A quick note for any of my high school students still reading: there is R-Rated imagery and activity throughout Barron's stories. As I say in class when discussing "adult-ish" content, I can't recommend it to you yet, but as soon as you turn 18... check it out!

Summer Reading: Lovecraft's Monsters

Recently I shared with an old friend my struggle finding Lovecraft-inspired material not written by the author himself. For every "Worms of the Earth" by Robert E. Howard there are a myriad of lesser attempts at aping H.P. Lovecraft's unique vision.

Given the wealth of Cthulhu mythos "fan-fic" available, the challenge is not in finding content, but rather in discovering stories that entertain without proving too derivative. A few days after this conversation, I returned to a Lovecraft anthology I had purchased many months earlier that had been repeatedly relegated to my "to be read" pile after only two of the stories had been read. Fortunately, this proved to be a mistake on my part. With a long car/train ride ahead of me, I once again picked up Lovecraft's Monsters and after enjoying the next two stories I turned to and was heartened by what I read.

The secret of quality Lovecraft inspired stories, to my personal tastes at any rate, is demonstrated by the majority of stories in this collection, edited by Hugo and Bram Stoker Award-winning editor Ellen Datlow. The challenge met by many of the pieces selected by Datlow is transferring elements of Lovecraft's work, such as mood and subtle characterization, into a setting or circumstance that, while clearly influenced by the source, extends those ideas into a new direction including culture, setting and time period. The organization of the text as a whole, including the front (Foreword by Stefan Dziemianowicz) and  back matter ("Monster Index"), contributes to a high quality presentation of the stories, even if a few fall flat for this reader.  

Each story is preceded by a single panel image that foreshadows a key event in the story to follow. While not always the case, many of the images are of the monsters encountered in the story to follow. When this is not the case,  the aforementioned "Monster Index" by Rachel Fagundes fills in the gaps by including both narrative and visual sketches of key Lovecraftian monsters that appear throughout. A  handy cross-referencing of

John Coulthart provides evocative
and creepy illustrations such
as this one that precedes "Red 
Goat Black Goat.

monsters with the stories in the anthology allows for the reader to choose those stories that feature favorites first. As an effective collection probably should, Lovecraft's Monsters is both a fine collection of ancillary stories by writers others than Lovecraft as well as a good introduction to the world of the author. When a recognizable monster, such as The King in Yellow or Azathoth, included in the back of the collections

Some stories such as "Only the End of the World Again" by Neil Gaiman and "Black As the Pit, From Pole to Pole" by the duo of Howard Waldrop and Steve Utley take a monster mash-up approach by pairing Lovecraftian creatures with more familiar ones (the Wolf Man and Frankenstein's Monster respectively). While entertaining and clever to this fan of Lawrence Talbot and the traditional horror icons, it is the more straightforward "new" tales that kept me reading. In each case, the author chooses to mix another literary genre with a dash of Lovecraft to effectively deliver compelling new takes on familiar creature. Standouts include:

• "Bulldozer" by Laird Barron, pages 33-62. Set in the Old West, this is the story of a "Pinkerton man" on a "hunting expedition to the West." (48) As a bulldozer, a colloquialism for an investigator/security, our protagonist Jonah Koenig is on the trail of a criminal. This is not just any ordinary bad guy, however, but an individual who very clearly has taken part in rituals and dark magic related to Belphagor, one of the seven princes of Hell. Employing a contemporary narrative structure to the story (translation: unusual chronology of plot points), Barron ratchets up the tension and drama. As a fan of the neo-Western, I found this one very engaging. 
• "That of Which We Speak When We Speak of the Unspeakable" by Nick Mamatas, pages 303-312. Mamatas' vignette is a snapshot of a trio of revelers awaiting the end of the world, beginning of a return of the old Gods, depending on how you look at it. The characters reflect this dual anticipation in that one welcomes them, acting as a self-appointed prophet, while others fear for what is to come. The contemporary setting and familiar perspectives on the nature love in modern society help to make this a particular relatable story. While some of the stories in the anthology only suggest Lovecraft's creatures (for example "Bulldozer"),"That of Which" explicitly namedrops the shoggoths who arrive to welcome the new day (night). 

Other standouts include "Red Goat Black Goat" by Nadia Bulkin (65-76) and "The Same Deep Waters As You" by Brian Hodge (79-115). Whether a Lovecraft enthusiast or seeking an introduction to his rich world of dark magic and monsters, Lovecraft's Monsters, edited by Ellen Datlow and published Tachyon is an beach read... especially at dusk.

Cthulhu Theater: Grabbers (2012)

Recently I have begun to gain a strong appreciation for horror films produced in other countries such as France, Korea and Finland. I also continue to be a sucker for tentacled-cult-elder-gods movies in the spirit of H.P. Lovecraft's popular fiction. Though Lovecraft's unique vision has yet to have been fully realized in any big budget straight adaptations of his own work, Lovecraft's influence is all over a number of horror movies, some with an explicit connection to his source material, and others with simply a visual nod to his creature designs and Cthulhu mythos. In most cases when movies are said to be "Lovecraftian," it is a reference to either the creature designs or the setting. Horror-comedy Grabbers (2012) directed by Jon Wright and written by Kevin Lehane meets those limited criteria in addition to possessing enough Lovecraftian tropes to suggest a strong influence by some of his literary works as well.

Come for the satire, stray for the
formulaic monster flick?

Set on a remote Irish island, the setting does indeed get dark, wet and suitably moody and the creatures are "tentacly" in design, but the film shares much more in spirit and pacing with Tremors (1990) or any number of the Nick Frost/Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright horror-action comedies of the past decade. Thanks in large part to the effective effects, a game ensemble cast of actors doing their best to enliven standard small town stereotypes (weird-old-timer, goofy-but-handsome-doctor type, grizzled detective and attractive newbie in town) and fine cinematography of the Irish coast, Grabbers does serve as an adequate snowy day distraction.

The one place the filmmakers would have seemed to have missed the boat is in product placement. Given its importance as a plot point (as well as carrying significance to the characterization of nearly every character in the film), Grabbers would have seemed natural for the pervasive alcohol use throughout have been sponsored by someone. If not for the fact that this film was made by Irish filmmakers (using partial funding from both the Irish Film Board and UK Film Council), it would be easy to dismiss the film's alcohol consumption as deus ex machina all too stereotypical jab at the Irish. But on some level, especially when one sees the promotional posters for the film's European theatrical release (above, left), Wright and Lehane do seem to be aspiring to some sort of satire with their film. The balance between humor, action, ad social commentary never seems natural or well developed enough in one direction.

Like many horror-comedies, its frustrating to realize halfway through that had a more focused approach been taken, say purely a horror one, the resulting film could have been infinitely more entertaining. This is evidenced by the handling of the creatures. The initial reveals of the tentacled creatures in a variety of stages (whether hiding in the corner of a licencing, or hatching from eggs) are very well realized and creepy. The drunk shtick (a town full of Irish folks--including the town priest--has just got to be funny, right?) and romance between the two characters (you just know will hook up by film's end) serve to dissipate the building tension and ameliorate the few scares that are here.

Entertaining, but with almost no rewatchability value, Grabbers (2012) is a completely satisfactory, ultimately forgettable, direct stream Netflix offering.

Standing in the middle of the street when our town is under attack
by large tentacled creatures is never a good idea.

Late to the Party: B.P.R.D.

Cthulhu-esque, supernatural creatures such as the one referenced in B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth: Russia #1,
with story by Mike Mignola and John Arcudi with art by Tyler Crook, are always a threat to appear! 

With greater frequency than in year's past, likely due to some discontent with the Big Two's reboots and events, I have found myself coming late to the party on some "smaller" titles which have been in publication for, in some cases, many years.  While it is very unlikely I'll have the financial resources (too many years and issues have passed) to reasonably catch up completely on individual back issues, there are fortunately often more recent jumping on points.

One title that I had previously missed out on, that was singled out as #24 in this CBR end-of-year "Top Comics," is Dark Horse's B.P.R.D. A spin-off from Mike Mignola's Hellboy, B.P.R.D. the continuing adventures of the organization which took Hellboy in, the The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. Charged with protecting America and the world from the occult, paranormal and supernatural, the B.P.R.D. employs the services of several "enhanced talent" (supernaturally powered persons), most notably the aforementioned Hellboy. While Hellboy quit the B.P.R.D. years ago, and subsequently, "died", Abe Sapien and Johann Krauss, both recognizable from the successful Guillermo del Toro films, remain central to the stories. Additionally, there are a number of human agents featured.

No character is safe from occult body-horror mutations;
from B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth: The Pickens County Horror #1.

A unique (and ultimately favorable to the late-comer such as myself) facet of B.P.R.D's publication is that each series, of which more than one may be on the stands at any given time, are presented as 3 to 5 issue miniseries. While each builds on the story that preceded it, each story arc can be at least superficially enjoyed on it's own merits. I will warn you, however, it is VERY difficult not to be pulled in and to start desiring to dig through your local comic shops back issue long boxes.

Another advantage for newer fans is that in 2010 the primary B.P.R.D. series and all ancillary titles (as well as the entire world of Hellboy, for that matter) completed its first cycle. Eventually, this entire initial run of related sixty-eight issues was rebranded as "The Plague of Frogs" cycle.
This was followed by a second cycle, which we are still in. Titles in this most recent cycle bear the subtitle "Hell on Earth." Beginning with what would be the one hundredth issue of the series, B.P.R.D. returned to traditional sequential numbering, therefore issue 3 of the B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth: The Return of the Master #3 is in actuality #100. In an age when the big two continue to run away from their extensive continuity, it is wonderful to see Dark Horse and Hellboy creator and mastermind Mike Mignola embrace the scope of their characters' existence.

From B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth: The Long Death #1 story by Mike Mignola and
John Arcudi with art by James Harren. 

The biggest draw, as should be the case with any comic book purchase, is the storytelling. Guided by Hellboy creator Mike Magnolia and writer James Arcudi (among others), B.P.R.D. is as much about characterization as it is Cthulhu-esque creatures. After only having reading just three of the recent arcs from Hell on Earth, Johann Krauss (featured in the panels above) has quickly become one of my favorite comic book characters.The storytelling is very visual in nature and the consistently excellent artwork by James Haren, Tyler Crooks and others gives the authors a visually cohesive world within to play.

Most B.P.R.D series are currently available in trade paperback, as well as individual issues at most solid local comic shops.

Ooo-eee, ooo-ah-ah, ting-tang...

From Witch Doctor #3.

For some reason (likely financial), I missed the Image Comics miniseries, Witch Doctor, when it was initially published last summer. This past week, while at the comic shop, I rectified this error by picking up the four issue miniseries as well as the more recently published one-shot, Witch Doctor: Resuscitation. All issues in Witch Doctor's brief existence have been written by Brandon Seifert with art provided by Lukas Ketner.

A deligthfully dark spin on Marvel's much tamer character Doctor Strange, Witch Doctor follows Dr. Vincent Morrow, Earth's preeminent Occult Physician, and his team as they find their way through the mystical planes and problems that lie just below the surface of our modern world. In addition to wielding the sword Excalibur against Lovecraftian monsters such as "Cthulu's tapeworms," Dr. Morrow has a penchant for British literature.

In the case of the panel above, wherein the good doctor is on trial for his actions while caring for the "Patient from the Black Lagoon," Dr. Morrow can't help but go to the classic William Blake poem, "The Tyger":

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

In this line, Blake references his earlier poem, “The Lamb,” and, in doing so, highlights one of the major questions addressed in his Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience. What Blake is asking here, in plainer English, is “Wait…is God personally involved in ALL of this? Even the really evil stuff?” Interestingly enough, I also posed this question to my AP Language and Composition class this week as we reviewed Donne's poem (from which Gunther took his title) during our consideration of Gunther's memior Death Be Not Proud.

The connection? The question raised by Blake (and Dr. Morrow) is also one that the Old Testament's Book of Job brings up. The Book of Job is also the singular Biblical text that the author's agnostic son has an interest in reading upon being diagnosed with a terminal illness--the thrust of Gunther's book.

One could extrapolate that Dr. Morrow, upon viewing this grotesque "monster," is himself questioning not only the nature of good and evil, but also God's role in allowing such evil to exist and further harm those who might otherwise be perceived as "good." Granted, this is some pretty heavy thinking for a throwaway line on the opening page of an indepedent horror comic, but it is the rare treat that one does not always necessarily find in your standard Avengers book.

I look forward to following more of Dr. Morrow's adventures in the near future...

Cthulhu and I Lay Sleeping with Robots in Disguise

Presenting the only cool panel in the whole book!

Along with the usual assortment of DC "Dark" titles and zombie-Westerns, I picked up the first issue of a two part Transformers mini-series at the comic shop for my stepson this week. I had been quietly anticipating this particular issue as it tied into publisher IDWs company wide Infestation 2 event; this time the "infestation" of the title dealt with "The Elder Gods" invading Earth, where as last time it deal with zombies. The phrase "Elder Gods" immediately brings to mind H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos and the cover of the comic certainly looked and felt Cthulhu-esque--heck, it depicts a steam-punk Opitmus Prime wrestling with a creature whose design is clearly lifted from popularized Cthulhu designs.

Unfortunately the issue delivered mostly set-up, offering only tentacled Decepticons "possessed" (I think--it was hard to tell) by the spirits of space creatures reminiscent of Cthulhu and his pals. Of course the other Lovecraft tropes made appearances throughout--fish men, underwater cities, zombified villagers, and a coastal town--but they seemed to lack any resonance or purpose. Despite reading the whole thing through, I had little idea what was happening and the 1887 setting confused me to no end--while I don't regularly read the Transformers main titles, but having thumbed through them on a number of occassions I'm fairly sure they are set in a more modern time frame. (They are but after reading online I learned that this story is set in some other Transformers dimension, one during which the robots were "undisguised" earlier in world history.)

There were some redeeming qualities to the book though. The art by Guido Guidi was suitable manga-esuq and evocative of both Transformer and Chtulhu mythos, and some of the nuances of the dialogue were fun and had an Easter-egg qulaity to them. For example, at least in one panel, shared above, Chuck Dixon, who has written many compelling comic books in years past, tweaked the familiar Cthulhu phrase ("Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn," which translates to, "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.") in the interest of dropping Megatron's name ("Megatron lies sleeping still...").

While I remain slightly disappointed, the book wasn't necessraily intended for me as a IDW Transformer comic universe reader, so I'll be passing this along to my stepson who, as a die hard IDW line reader, may be able to explain to me.