In
the beginning of H.P. Lovecraft’s short story The Lurking Fear, (originally published in 1923), the intrepid narrator
has brought two strong men with him to spend the night in the shunned and
deserted Martense Mansion. The ruins of
this once great house perch near the top of Tempest Mountain, so named for the
unusual frequency of dangerous weather.
There has been a terrible conflagration in nearby Leffert’s Corner,
where a storm and the collapse of an underground cavern have left 75 of the
villagers horribly dead or missing.
The
narrator describes his career as “a series of quests for strange horrors in
literature and in life.” With his assistants,
he plans to spend the night in the very bedroom of Jan Martense, a member of
the doomed clan who was mysteriously murdered back in 1763. It is clear, even from the first section of the
story, (“The Shadow on the Chimney”), that the narrator’s career is about to
take off in new directions.
The
room where they will spend the night—two of them, their last night—is on the second storey, on the southeast corner of the
house. The narrator surveys his surroundings,
a decrepit old room filled with debris. Lovecraft
describes the room carefully and attends to details. He wants to construct the scene in such a way
that “The Shadow on the Chimney” will actually fall on the chimney. But before that unsettling event appears,
there is another unusual feature of the fireplace and chimney:
“Opposite
the large window was an enormous Dutch fireplace with scriptural tiles
representing the
prodigal son…” (emphasis
added)
The
story of the prodigal son, which comes from the New Testament, is in the book
of Luke, chapter 15, vs. 11-32. In the
biblical story, a young man, eager to leave the family farm, asks for his
inheritance, and later squanders all of it on wild living. Destitute, he returns to his father, asks him
for forgiveness, and is welcomed back with a celebration. (“For this son of mine was dead and is alive
again; he was lost and is found.”) Jesus uses this parable to show what the
Kingdom of God is like, at least with respect to forgiveness and
repentance. But what is this Christian
reference doing in the middle of a Lovecraft story about underground flesh
eating ghouls?
The
fireplace is not mentioned again, but this detail about scriptural tiles,
though minor, is striking. Lovecraft is
not known for his religious piety. The worlds
he created in his fiction are almost completely devoid of grace, salvation, and
hope. (Exactly why this should be would
be fruitful to explore further.) It
seems unlikely that this mention of the prodigal son is accidental.
The
reason for the appearance of the scriptural reference becomes clearer later in
the story. After the early demise of his
two friends, and the gruesome death of a reporter who joins in the
investigation later on—this occurs in the second section, entitled “A Passer in
the Storm”—the narrator descends into a compulsive madness as he continues his
search for the lurking fear.
In the third section of the story, (“What the Red Glare Meant”), a story-within-a-story is told about Jan Martense, the descendent who is doomed to an early and violent death. Lovecraft describes Martense as a young man who
In the third section of the story, (“What the Red Glare Meant”), a story-within-a-story is told about Jan Martense, the descendent who is doomed to an early and violent death. Lovecraft describes Martense as a young man who
“…from
some kind of restlessness joined the colonial army when news of the Albany
Convention reached Tempest Mountain. He
was the first of Gerrit’s descendants to see much of the world; when he
returned in 1760 after six years of campaigning, he was hated as an outsider by
his father, uncles and brothers, in spite of his dissimilar Martense eyes. No longer could he share the peculiarities
and prejudices of the Martenses, while the very mountain thunderstorms failed to
intoxicate him as they had before.
Instead, his surroundings depressed him; and he frequently wrote to a
friend of plans to leave the paternal roof.”
Which
he is never able to do, because it becomes clear that his family murdered him
not long after his return from military service. Even in death, he
receives no consideration or justice. The loyal friend of Jan Martense
later arrives looking for him, exhumes the grave, and finds proof of the murder.
He presses charges, but to no avail. Evidence linking the crime to his
family is meager.
Jan
Martense, then, is the prodigal son that Lovecraft refers to in the beginning
of the story when he describes the scriptural tiles decorating the fireplace. It is a foreshadowing of what might have
been, if grace had existed in the universe that Lovecraft depicts. Unlike the biblical tale, the young Martense
does not return to forgiveness and celebration, much less to a feast and
reconciliation. Lovecraft has reversed the
outcome of the original parable, and offered an alternate lesson.
In
the fourth and final section of Lovecraft’s The
Lurking Fear, “The Horror in the Eyes”, the implications of the narrator’s
terrible discoveries are revealed. “The
thing will haunt me”, he has the narrator say near the end, “for who can say
the extermination is complete, and that analogous phenomena do not exist all
over the world? Who can, with my
knowledge, think of the earth’s unknown caverns without a nightmare dread of
future possibilities?”
With
this knowledge in mind the narrator has come to a new and frightful
understanding of the nature of the world.
Why is Lovecraft so enthralled with this dark, pitiless world, riddled
with loathsome tunnels, and “endless ensanguined corridors”, filled with
demonic creatures? Why are we?
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