“Make
no mistake—Oklahoma is a lot more than a mere pioneers’ and promoters’
frontier.”
—from
The Mound by Zealia Bishop, (with H.P.
Lovecraft ghostwriting)
It
certainly is. Unlike In the Walls of Eryx, a collaboration reviewed
in an earlier post, The Mound clearly
shows H.P. Lovecraft’s influence and control of the material. It contains many elements that place it
solidly among his ‘Cthulhu Mythos’ stories.
The Mound was co-written with
Zealia Bishop in 1929-1930, but published much later. An abridged version appeared in Weird Tales in 1940, several years after
Lovecraft’s death. The version I have is
from The Horror in the Museum (2007),
a fascinating collection of “primary” and “secondary” revisions that Lovecraft
completed of other authors’ work. Those
who helped restore the original version of The
Mound certainly did Lovecraft scholars a valuable service.
Though
the original idea for the story is nominally ascribed to Zealia Bishop, it is
clear that Lovecraft ghostwrote most of the novella. According to introductory notes by S.T. Joshi
and August Derleth, Bishop admitted as much, and described in a memoir how her
returned drafts were so thoroughly revised by Lovecraft “…that I felt I was a
complete failure as a writer.” The Mound is very much a Lovecraft
story, and not only that; it is an impressive consolidation and culmination of
many themes in his work—there is a lot
here. Readers will find echoes of later
works such as The Shadow Out of Time,
and At the Mountains of Madness as
well as earlier stories—The Nameless City
comes to mind.
As in
several of Lovecraft’s stories, The Mound
opens with careful attention to historical events and documentation. The author’s antiquarian interests are in
full view, although in this story, the setting is unique: Oklahoma! The only other story I can recall of
Lovecraft’s that takes place out west is The
Transformation of Juan Romero (published posthumously in 1944). Much of The
Mound is a story-within-a-story, based on the translation of an antique
parchment describing the terrifying adventure of one of Coronado’s men in the 16th
Century.
In The Mound, an American Indian
ethnologist investigates strange reports and legends surrounding an ancient
artificial hill that superficially resembles an Indian mound. The locals describe a haunting by a male and
female ghost—the latter, headless—as well as inexplicable disappearances,
maiming and insanity among those foolish enough to visit or excavate the mound.
The
narrator consults the local Wichita Indian chief, old Grey Eagle. Grey Eagle knows more than he will tell the
narrator about the mound, but gives him an unusual talisman to wear for
protection. The Indian character is depicted
as a fairly stereotypical Native American, but in this story there is more
affection and respect shown an ethnic minority than is usual in Lovecraft’s writing. It is because of this talisman, formed of
metal that turns out to be extra-terrestrial in origin, that the narrator is
able to survive at the end to tell the story.
The ethnographer
surveys the disturbing historical record, including that of the Spanish
explorer Zamacona, who was part of Coronado’s expedition to the New World in the
1540s. Zamacona’s descent and discovery
of a vast subterranean world is reminiscent of several Lovecraft tales, among
them, The Rats in the Walls, The Horror at Red Hook, and The Festival. The explorer is captured and taken to the
amazing underground metropolis of Tsath, where as a prisoner he is taught the
history and culture of the inhabitants.
He is treated well, as long as he makes no attempt to escape—which of
course, he later does. Much of The Mound has the feel of a ‘lost
civilization’ adventure story.
The
ethnographer completes his translation of Zamacona’s chronicle—which is the
whale of the story—and then makes his own wildly incautious entry into the
mound. This is the most suspenseful part,
given all that has gone before. Details
provided at the beginning of the novella are cleverly and powerfully linked
with what the narrator finds as he enters the mound. He does not get far, but far enough to learn
of Zamacona’s awful fate.
Some
readers may find the extensive back story a bit long and tiresome, but it seems
an integral part of this ambitious tale.
Lovecraft effectively ties together aspects of his extraterrestrial
cosmology, the origins of humanity, and North American history, among other big
subjects. It is impressive how he transfers motifs typically associated with his
New England settings to the American West.
There
are references to the Necronomicon, Cthulhu,
Shub-Niggurath, Azathoth, and Nyarlathotep—and to the Native American serpent deities
Quetzalcoatl (Aztec) and Kukulcan (Mayan).
There are also remarkable sections later in the story where Lovecraft
speculates on alternative political and economic systems, social arrangements that
take the place of marriage and family, and the impact of decadence and ennui on
the culture of a subterranean civilization.
Characterization
is better in The Mound than in most
of Lovecraft’s fiction and seems to show some evolution of skill in this
area. The characters are more memorable
and more easily distinguished from each other.
The narrator is not as brooding or as passive as is typical of a
Lovecraftian protagonist—he is much less like the author than in other stories. In my opinion, The Mound is well worth spending time with, given its connections
with much of what Lovecraft wrote earlier and later on in his career.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for your interest in The R'lyeh Tribune! Comments and suggestions are always welcome.