Clark
Ashton Smith’s The Weaver in the Vault
(1934) is one of his better Dunsanian influenced stories, an interesting blend
of dark fantasy and elements of science fiction. The tale is set in Zothique, a fictional
setting created by Smith, that, judging by the flora and fauna, is a vaguely
African or Middle-Eastern locale. It
could exist either very far in Earth’s future or long ago in its past. Three doomed strongmen are directed by a
corrupt king to retrieve the remains of an ancestor in the royal line. Unfortunately, the remains lie somewhere
beneath the abandoned and fearful ruins of Chaon Gacca, “where Death has made
his capital.”
But
there is also death—at least decadence and corruption—in the kingdom of Miraab,
from whence the three have set forth.
Their cynical conversations along the way reveal the backstory as well
as their fears of impending disaster. A
recurring image in the story is that of the ravages of earthquakes. This is a fragile, unstable land,
precariously held together. As they near
dreaded, sepulchral Chaon Gacca, they must leap over and circumvent numerous
cracks and crevasses in the ground, which widen ominously as they approach
their destination. (This feature becomes
critical near the end of the tale.) The
sense is that this world and its decadent civilization are breaking up and
disintegrating. The three men and their
society may not have much of a future.
There
is a bit of cynical irony—the closest that Smith comes to humor—when the trio
of soldiers rests in the shelter of a ruined shrine at the outskirts of the
city. The edifice is dedicated to
“Yuckla”, the local god of laughter and mirth—the only element of levity in an
otherwise dark and fatalistic tale. The
three men offer a libation to Yuckla and pray for his protection from the
neighborhood demons. Why is there so
little laughter and sarcasm in Lovecraft, Howard or Smith?
The
most interesting aspect of the story is the bizarre entity encountered deep in
the catacombs of the mortuary city. It
is unexpectedly extra-terrestrial in
appearance and behavior. The nightmarish
quality of the climactic scene will remind readers of similar situations in
Smith’s The Vaults of Yoh-Vombis
(1932) and The Tale of Satampra Zeiros
(1931). Both of these stories are highly
recommended; the latter features the first appearance of Tsathoggua, the
malevolent toad-god, who later became a member of the Cthulhu Mythos. (See also Face-Huggers
and Others and Tsathoggua
and His Fans.)
In S.T.
Joshi’s interesting footnotes about the story he remarks that a tentative title
for The Weaver in the Vault was “The
Ghoul from Mercury.” Joshi cites a
letter from Smith to H.P. Lovecraft indicating that Smith had already developed
the core of this story as early as 1930.
At the time, Smith was making a disappointing foray into science fiction
with his Captain Volmer series. Marooned in Andromeda (1930) and A Captivity in Serpens (1931) were also
published at this time. Given Smith’s
frustration with attempting a shift to writing science fiction, it is tempting
to think that The Weaver in the Vault represents
an effort to retrench and return to a form he was more successful with.
The Weaver in the Vault contains a smattering of unfamiliar
vocabulary, as many of Smith’s stories do, but it never reaches a level where
it becomes cumbersome for the reader. Judicious use of archaic terminology can effectively
create an exotic feel to a setting, which is what Smith has done in this
story. One of the author’s strengths is
the ability to create vividly detailed descriptions. Readers can easily visualize the terrain and
architectural features, and will want to see what is down there in those dark
catacombs.
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