Read It: Gou Tanabe's At the Mountains of Madness

Intricately drawn splash pages add to establishing a tone of impending doom.

Gou Tanabe's graphic novel adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness succeeds for two reasons. First, the manga takes a narrative that is familiar to many and makes it new, and, secondly, Tanabe deftly brings into the visual realm a novella that has, to this point, worked best in the imagination of the reader. Like most Lovecraft readers, I too, have read the classic cosmic horror story in multiple editions with a variety of well-written collection forewords, most recently At the Mountains of Madness: The Definitive Edition prefaced by an excellent introduction by China Miéville. It is difficult to discuss any version of At the Mountains of Madness without acknowledging the prior understanding (and bias) of readers as compared to those for whom this is a first time through the story.

Despite having read manga for 20+ years,
it always helps to have a reminder as
to how the panels flow, especially when
the story has multiple characters, each
of whom communicate via dialogue.

This graphic novel volume is the first of two, and serializes in short 5-7 page chapters the events of roughly the first half of Lovecraft's original text. Beginning with a prologue set in January 1931 (five months before the tale begun in Chapter 1), entitled "After the Storm," and concluding with "Chapter 12 Under Five-Pointed Mounds," The First Volume concludes on a cliffhanger with expedition team leader's, and Lovecraft's narrator Dr. Dyer, making the decision to "Fly to the Black Mountains!" The search for Gedney, the presumed lone survivor of the Lake's advance party, is where I would expect where The Second Volume  to pick-up. (I have yet to have acquired it as of this writing.)

As I read Tanabe's graphic novel, I felt as if was I was engaging the material for the first time. Tweaks to the story require those familiar with the original text to read and view the visuals carefully so as to not miss out on key character alterations. These changes deal primarily with the characterization of Dr. Lake, a Biology professor, and his relationship with geologist, Dr. Dyer. Perhaps I missed it in Lovecraft's story, but here it is very clear through the different visual depictions and interactions, that Lake, besides being the advance leader whose disappearance is the initiating factor for Dyer's deep trip into the mountains, is also intended to act as a more traditional antagonist or foil. Lake's unchecked ambition to push the boundaries of exploration are sharply contrasted by Dyer's more measured approach to the huge Antarctic undertaking they are mutually engaged in.

Tanabe includes quotes from both
historical and literary figures,
 including this rare color page
 acting as an epigram to Lovecraft's
story here.

It may surprise the new reader, especially given the obvious influences of the work on contemporary science-fiction and horror, how little the human parties actually engage with Lovecraft's cosmic creatures on the page. It is only half way through the text, with "Chapter 6: Elder Things," that a visual representation of the titular star-headed creature in fossilized form even makes its first appearance. Readers of cosmic horror don't come only to gawk at monsters though, and Tanabe's approach reflects this understanding. A modern reader unfamiliar with Lovecraft may expect more, but careful reading reveals that Tanabe has properly trusted his illustrations and storytelling to build suspense and sense of impending doom.

Beginning with the prologue depicting the remains of the original Miskatonic University Expedition led by Dr. Lake and "the manner and cause of their destruction" that Dyer and his team are seeking answers to. Using background setting and images that an organic, alien environment, not unlike that designed by H.R. Giger for use in Ridley Scott's classic film Alien (1979), Tanabe establishes a blend of natural and alien worlds. This effect is further reinforced through Tanabe's inclusion throughout of journal entries from a number of real-world explorers such as Captain James Cook. For the reader who hasn't experienced the source material, there is a subtle foreshadowing as to what to expect once this group enters the "Mountains of Madness." Once the eventual dissection  (desecration?) of a petrified Elder Thing by Lake, an act that is juxtaposed to that of the members of the first party by some heretofore unknown force, the tension amps up considerably.

With accessible language and excellent, detailed artwork, Gou Tanabe's graphic novel adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness is an excellent way to introduce the young reader into Lovecraft's world. It's visual nature, as well as manga's increased popularity and acceptance among students of all ages, Tanabe's interpretation seems certain to entice the ambitious student to seek out other readily available Lovecraft horrors. (Gou Tanabe has also crafted a manga collection of the author's shorter works, H.P. Lovecraft's The Hound and Other Stories.) H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness would be a welcome and exciting addition to any high school library or reading list... if the adults involved dare to try something different!

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?

Hallow-Reading: The Dreams in the Witch-House

Just as with certain superior recording artists there are “no B-sides”, some writers seem to hit on all cylinders regardless of the piece. While “At the Mountains of Madness” is understandably viewed as one of his masterpieces, H. P. Lovecraft wrote many other stories that despite slightly less literary love, seem, to this reader, equally impressive. More than just my restating the obvious (“Lovecraft is a great horror writer”), with each new story I read buried deep in anthologies of his work, I am sure I have not always appreciated just how “great.”

Take “The Dreams in the Witch-House,” for instance. (Note: Upon researching some information on the story, I was surprised to discover that many reputable Lovecraft scholars deem this particular story to be one of his lesser efforts.) As a fan of Lovecraft’s mythos, as well as those other works clearly influenced by his writing, I found the description of the cosmic environments to be illuminating. Perhaps it is too overt in its depiction for those who like more nuanced horror, but the “vast converging planes of a slippery-looking substance” (At the Mountains of Madness and Other Tales of Terror, page 153) populated by geometric creatures bathed in violet light and “iridescent bubble-congeries”, made concrete for this reader that which has not always been so clear. This approach is as effective as the more subtle approach, albeit in a different way. Much of the content and details in “The Dreams in the Witch-House” also provides a “Who’s Who” of Lovecraftian ideas. In some ways this is an excellent follow up to “Mountains” as it takes some of the cosmology eluded to in the first and grounds it in a more accessible folklore (witchcraft). In addition to the expected supernatural/fantastic elements inherent in the horror, familiar settings such as Arkham and Miskantonic University connect the story to the Cthulhu Mythos by grounding the action in a real-er world.

My favorite new comedic creature as
visualized by digital artist
 Carlos Garcia Rivera.

Few writers are as closely associated with their literary creations as Lovecraft is with his Great Old One, Cthulhu. In addition to vividly capturing the cosmic nature of Lovecraft’s aesthetic, “The Dreams in the Witch House” also introduces a terrifying creature, though of much smaller in cosmic and physical stature than Cthulhu, Brown Jenkin. “That shocking little horror,” Brown Jenkin, is described as being “no larger than a good-sized rat”, having “horribly anthropoid forepaws”, and a “tiny, bearded human face.” (145) Unlike some of Lovecraft’s creature creations, due in part to its rat-like nature, visualizing Brown Jenkin is much easier to do than others. The familiar of the witch of the title, Keziah Mason, Brown Jenkin enters the small room of the story’s protagonist, Walter Gilman, via a series of rat holes. As a familiar, he serves the role of Mason’s herald, visiting Gilman without his master at varying points of the story, often terrorizing Gilman in his sleep. For the reader, Brown Jenkin also plays serves as comic-relief, even if gruesomely so. “The sinister old woman and the fanged furry little animal” are quite the duo. If the evil witch is the "straight-man", Brown Jenkin is the comedic player. While requiring a leap, this dynamic is not one I generally associate with Lovecraft’s work so was pleasantly surprised by it. Perhaps it is Brown Jenkin’s tendency to “titter” maniacally throughout the proceedings that gave me a vision of the wisenheimer side-kick archetype. Of course by the story’s conclusion, no one’s laughing at Brown Jenkin or his “four tiny hands of daemonic dexterity”! So taken was I by this monstrous little creature that upon meeting him in the story, I immediately texted a friend of mine who has also read a few Lovecraft stories: “Where has Brown Jenkin been my whole life?”

The lesson here (beyond the coolness of Brown Jenkin) is that like those aforementioned B-sides, it pays to read deeper cuts by authors you enjoy. I know that as a result of this experience, I am going back through those other anthologies looking for any more gems.

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.