What
little characterization exists in a Lovecraft story is almost always
autobiographical, which makes even his most tedious stories interesting in that
respect. There are some exceptions—In The Vault comes to mind, as does The Picture in the House, and The Very Old Folk—that are qualitatively
different in tone, number of characters, and theme. But most of his stories involve a reclusive,
scholarly narrator who faces some horrible entity alone; these are really about
Lovecraft himself facing some horror
or tragedy, and all by himself.
The
first few pages of The Thing on the
Doorstep (1937), where the narrator Dan Upton is describing his childhood
friend Edward Pickman Derby, are almost purely autobiographical. We learn that Derby was a precocious child
scholar, “coddled” by over-protective, wealthy parents, well educated in most
subjects (with the exception of math and science), suffered health problems,
and was socially isolated from his peers.
“All this doubtless fostered a strange secretive inner life in the boy,
with imagination as his one avenue of freedom.”
Dan
Upton befriends the younger Derby when he is 16 and the latter is just 8 years
old—“…I found in this younger child a rare kindred spirit.” There is some weirdness here. Why would a 16 year old have a close
relationship with an 8 year old, unless they were siblings? The relationship
between a young man and a child is also found in The Quest of Iranon—one of the worst stories Lovecraft ever wrote,
but possibly one of his most genuine.
Upton
describes the further course of his friend’s life, which also closely resembles
that of Lovecraft’s. He remarks on the
latter’s inability to succeed in practical affairs, make decisions for himself,
or obtain employment. There is reference
to Derby’s incapacitation by “some odd psychological malady” at the death of
his mother. Upton also comments on
Derby’s physique, in particular about his inability to grow a convincing
mustache. “His voice was soft and light,
and his unexercised life gave him a juvenile chubbiness rather than the
paunchiness of premature middle age.”
This
is a remarkable self-assessment. Because
The Thing on the Doorstep is one of
the last stories published in his lifetime—he died the year it was
published—one senses that this is a culmination of Lovecraft’s reflections on the struggles in
his life.
The
autobiographical portion of the story culminates with Derby’s unhappy marriage
to Asenath Waite, “of the Innsmouth Waites”.
Psychologically and emotionally, things go downhill from here for Derby,
for his strange wife exerts an unnatural control over his will and
perceptions. On many levels they
exchange traditional male and female roles, temperaments and expectations. In some sense this must be an echo of Lovecraft’s troubled marriage to Sonia Greene,
who became the primary breadwinner and was by far the more industrious and
gregarious of the two.
But strictly
speaking, there are no women at all in The
Thing on the Doorstep. The narrator,
Dan Upton, mentions early on that he has a wife and a child, but they are never
named or described, and are almost completely invisible in the story. Upton’s spouse and child are practically
algebraic variables, elements of a formula that enumerate the narrator’s supposed
heterosexuality. Dan Upton’s primary
interest is in his friend, Edward Derby.
Derby
also has a wife, the evil Asenath, but she is not really female. She is in fact a shell inhabited by the
spirit of her still more evil father, Ephraim, “a prodigious magical student in
his day”. At times throughout the story
the physical form of Asenath contains the entrapped soul of Derby. It is not exactly clear what Ephraim is up to
when he switches places with Derby, but it involves the Necronomicon, ancient subterranean ruins in Maine, and a pit full
of shaggoths. In desperation, Derby—while released
momentarily to the freedom of being in his own body—murders Asenath and stows
her body in the cellar. But the power
and will of the old wizard are too strong for him, and his psyche is forced
back into the woman’s now much less useful body.
The
theme of the transfer or exchange of personalities occurs in numerous Lovecraft
stories, among them, The Evil Clergyman,
The Shadow Out of Time, The Challenge from Beyond, The Whisperer in Darkness, and The Case of Charles Dexter Ward. Did Lovecraft ever feel that his own personality
was trapped inside the wrong body? Did
this “switch” occur very early in his childhood?
L.
Sprague De Camp comments on how Lovecraft’s mother often told him and others
that he was very ugly, which contributed to his social isolation, shyness and
low self-esteem. He was prone to
psychosomatic illness, and early in his childhood he experienced symptoms of a
neurological condition called chorea minor—these included uncontrollable facial
tics and grimaces. These factors
undoubtedly increased his likelihood of being ostracized.
Even
more suggestively, S.T. Joshi remarks that early in the author’s childhood, his
mother, who had wanted her first child to be a girl, allowed him to keep his
hair long and dressed him in frocks until he was four years old. (As Freud might say, ‘If it’s not one thing
it’s a mother.’) His aunt Annie Gamwell
had remarked that for awhile the young Lovecraft insisted that he was a
girl. Finally, in an 1894 letter from
his grandfather, the boy is strongly admonished to wear trousers—he would have
been four years old at the time.
Too
much can be made of this, and Joshi is quick to show that Lovecraft soon adapted
the trappings of a more normal boyhood appearance. Yet hints of the family’s concern about gender
identity are present early on. In my
view, the psychological issue for Lovecraft was not so much gender identity per
se as establishing any strong sense of
identity in the face of repeated failures in his adult life.
The Thing on the Doorstep contains familiar
elements that mark it as a Cthulhu Mythos story: the Necronomicon, secret cults, invocation of the Old Ones, shaggoths,
and so on. But these elements seem more
circumstantial than central to the core of the horror: the intense struggles of
a sensitive, unassertive, intelligent man to establish a stable sense of self. At one point Lovecraft has the hysterical and
terrified Derby say: “My brain! My
brain! God, Dan—it’s tugging—from beyond—knocking—clawing—that
she devil—even now—Ephraim—Kamog! Kamog!—the
pit of the shaggoths—IƤ! Shub-Niggurath!...”
Translated,
this is Lovecraft asking: ‘Who am I?’
In the abyss of Lovecraftian lore, a gender bender takes form,
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