Cthulhu, the
Necronomicon, and other Curiosities
H P Lovecraft was an American author, mostly of
what would be described as ‘pulp fiction’, who gained a small cult following
during his lifetime yet, like so many other author of note, only truly became
successful after his death. The American pulp magazine, Weird Tales, published
his tale ‘The Call of Cthulhu’ in 1928 – the creature existed as part of the
‘Great Old Ones’ within the universe he created for his readers and looked like
a hybrid of an octopus and a dragon somehow
combined into a human form.
Howard Phillips
Lovecraft – 1890-1937
A dark, esoteric, if not forbidden,
knowledge drives the theme of the majority of Lovecraft's works - his heroes,
or anti-heroes, seem to be impelled by curiosity or scientific need. The
knowledge uncovered usually consists of such revelations that end up destroying
them psychologically, physically, or even at times both which with so many of
the characters in his books ending up dead brings us rather neatly onto the
‘Necronomicon’ .
Lovecraft introduced the Necronomicon as a fictional grimoire and was an account of the history of the ‘Old Ones’ which contained the means for summoning them and it first appeared in his 1924 short story "The Hound" – though in the tale its origins are stated as coming from the works of the "Mad Arab", Abdul Alhazred, who had appeared as a character previously in another of Lovecraft’s works, "The Nameless City".
Lovecraft introduced the Necronomicon as a fictional grimoire and was an account of the history of the ‘Old Ones’ which contained the means for summoning them and it first appeared in his 1924 short story "The Hound" – though in the tale its origins are stated as coming from the works of the "Mad Arab", Abdul Alhazred, who had appeared as a character previously in another of Lovecraft’s works, "The Nameless City".
After
being faced with so many questions as the whether the Necronomicon, its
‘author’, or those beings it described, H P was forced to write a book about
the books and even stated in a letter to Willis Conover, a jazz producer and
broadcaster on the Voice of America for over forty years -
‘Now about the "terrible and
forbidden books” — I am forced to say that most of them are purely imaginary.
There never was any Abdul Alhazred or Necronomicon, for I invented these names
myself. Robert Bloch devised the idea of Ludvig Prinn and his De Vermis
Mysteriis, while the Book of Eibon is an invention of Clark Ashton Smith's.
Robert E. Howard is responsible for Friedrich von Junzt and his
Unaussprechlichen Kulten.... As for seriously-written books on dark, occult,
and supernatural themes — in all truth they don’t amount to much. That is why
it’s more fun to invent mythical works like the Necronomicon and Book of Eibon
‘.
‘That
is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange
aeons even death may die.’
H P Lovecraft
The Nameless City" (1921) & The Call of Cthulhu" (1928
H P Lovecraft
The Nameless City" (1921) & The Call of Cthulhu" (1928
In his work ‘The Dunwich Horror ‘(1929)
Lovecraft’s character, Wilbur Whateley, at the age of fifteen, locates a copy
of the work library of Miskatonic University and finds the following passage -
‘Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth's masters, or that the common bulk of life and substance walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, they walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They had trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man's truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known’ Them’, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones whereon ‘Their’ seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Ia! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again.’
‘Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth's masters, or that the common bulk of life and substance walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, they walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They had trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man's truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known’ Them’, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones whereon ‘Their’ seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Ia! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again.’
And so, now we’re reaching the end of this post, what of the ‘Curiosities’ mentioned in the title of this piece? Well, the curiosities are in fact my own – to wit, how can people base a belief or even a religion on something that they’ve read? Now I’m all for people reading , especially if it’s a book I’ve written and, even though what I write is based on observation and personal experience, I don’t expect, or even want ( maybe when I’m older I might feel differently - who knows ? ) people to build temples and worship me in them as appealing as the thought is . The whole point is a writer writes and hides lies in truths and truths in lies usually with the intention of hopefully entertaining you - so if they tell you something is in fact an invention, a work of fiction, then take note. On the other hand, if they tell you something is completely true and that you should ignore everything else then maybe it's time to run like hell. I’m not sure who’s the most dangerous in those cases, the author or the reader? And that is all I’m trying to say.
D W Storer August 2018/2019
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