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!

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!