In the
last couple of posts there was discussion of two traditional methods of escaping
‘time the avenger’: either inventing a device that allows travel forward and
backward along this fourth dimension, or extending an individual life—at least
its outward appearance of youth and vigor—with various potions and arduous surgeries. The latter option is the most popular today,
since a reliable and safe time machine—unless it arrives from the future—is probably
centuries away.
But
what if others were able to interfere
with our experience of time, take us from our present moment and insert us
somewhere else in the temporal stream? Three decades before Billy Pilgrim became
“unstuck in time” in Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.’s Slaughterhouse
Five (1969), Lovecraft’s character of Nathaniel Wingate Peaslee suffered a
bizarre form of amnesia lasting from 1908 until 1913—he seemed to friends and
family to have become someone, or something else. Both characters endure a kind of post-traumatic
stress disorder, Pilgrim as a result of his experiences in World War II,
Peaslee because of his benevolent incarceration among the highly advanced Great
Old Ones, “…the greatest race of all; because it alone had conquered the secret
of time.” Which “secret of time”
consists of the ability to exchange minds with others, a device Lovecraft used
in many of his stories.
Lovecraft
skillfully describes the psychological symptoms Peaslee experiences soon after
returning to his body, which is the focus of his memorable The Shadow Out of Time (1936).
This is one of Lovecraft’s most important stories, originally published
in the June 1936 issue of Astounding
Stories. Despite its flaws—there is no
dialogue, characterization, or much action—the eight-part novella consolidates
and elaborates ideas that Lovecraft introduced elsewhere in his fiction.
Its
broad panorama of Earth’s existence in time and space, combined with its well-wrought
depiction of the Great Old Ones and their interaction with human destiny form
the basis for all kinds of interesting narrative possibilities. Had the author survived the late 1930s, The Shadow Out of Time would have made
an excellent starting place from
which Lovecraft might have launched additional novel-length projects.
Where
are the Great Old Ones when you need them?
What if instead of sending one of their own colossal minds into the
future, they had nabbed Lovecraft’s 1936 brain and exchanged it with that of a
current day undergrad at Brown University?
Lovecraft could continue his career, perhaps updating and correcting all
that has been done since to his unique mythology, and maybe getting involved
with historical preservation efforts in Providence.
As for
the transplanted college student, he or she could have a remarkable
multi-cultural experience some 50 million years ago, existing inside the body
of creatures composed of “enormous iridescent cones, about ten feet high and
ten feet wide at the base, and made up of some ridgy, scaly, semi-elastic
matter.” This may be preferable to
amassing thousands of dollars in student loan debt.
Travel
through time and space by way of a mental transference of some kind appears in
many of Lovecraft’s stories, among them Beyond
the Wall of Sleep (1919), Hypnos
(1923), The Whisperer in Darkness (1931),
The Challenge from Beyond (1935) The Thing on the Doorstep (1937), and The Evil Clergyman (1939). Lovecraft’s conceptualization of mental
transference appears to overlap the categories of psychic possession and
reincarnation in some of his work, but even here time travel of a kind is
implied. (See also Clinical
Lovecraft, Help, I’m
a Centipede! ‘The
Whisperer’—One of Lovecraft’s Best, A
Lovecraftian Gender-Bender, and Lovecraft
an Anglican Priest?.)
It is
striking that this motif—leaving one’s own body and inhabiting another—occurs
so often in Lovecraft’s fiction. The author was a materialist and an atheist
and unlikely to believe in the existence of mind or soul outside the physical
body. While it is tempting to think
Lovecraft may have waffled on this issue, it may be that his preoccupation with
this theme merely reflects personal discomfort with his own physical being; he
famously perceived himself as ugly, awkward and unattractive and his life as frustrating,
unsuccessful and pointless. Surely he
wanted to leave at times and exist as someone else, somewhere else, if only in
his imagination.
In The Shadow Out of Time, Lovecraft uses
mental transference and time travel as a vehicle to showcase many of his more
provocative ideas: that an ideal, advanced society would be governed by some
form of “fascistic socialism”, that, in terms of evolution, humans are not the
last or even the best species to develop on earth, that significant human
achievements may be traceable to outside influences, that ancient knowledge of
mankind’s predecessors is preserved and handed down through the activities of
secretive cults. Here is just one
example:
It
[the Great Race] had learned all things that ever were known or ever would be known on the earth,
through the power of its keener minds to project themselves into the past and
future, even through gulfs of millions of years, and study the lore of every
age. From the accomplishments of this
race arose all legends of prophets,
including those in human mythology.
With
the exception of parts V-VIII, which describe Peaslee’s terrifying discovery of
tangible proof of the Great Race in Australia, most of The Shadow Out of Time takes place in a library—either Peaslee’s own or that of the Great Race eons ago in
Earth time. But what a library! There is a lot to study here, which makes The
Shadow Out of Time a critical read for those interested in a deeper
understanding of all things Lovecraftian.
As in
so much of Lovecraft’s fiction, the principle activity of the main character—nearly
always a stand-in for Lovecraft himself—is research to find out the real truth
about himself and his world. And as in
many of Lovecraft’s adventures of self-discovery, the awful truth is somehow “connected
with the ceaseless fear of the dark, windowless elder ruins and of the great
sealed trapdoors in the lowest subterrene levels.”
H.P. Lovecraft
often acknowledged his weaknesses as a story teller, but most would agree that
he excelled at creating memorable settings and more importantly, disturbing
conceptualizations of the nature of the universe and humanity’s place in it. Given his other equally ambitious work from
this time—longer, more involved stories like At the Mountains of Madness (1936), The Shadow Over Innsmouth (1936), The Thing on the Doorstep (1937), The Case of Charles Dexter Ward (1941), and The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath—it is clear that Lovecraft’s
skill as a writer was continuing to develop and that his favorite concepts were
being refined and extended in interesting ways.
In
particular, The Shadow Out of Time
lays out Lovecraft’s more sophisticated, cosmic “mythos”. Not the hokey “Cthulhu Mythos” Derleth and
others assembled from parts of Lovecraft’s work, but a more disturbing pantheon
indifferent to humanity, all the more frightening because unfamiliar and
incomprehensible.
********************
Lovecraft
enthusiasts will be interested in a new book due out this September from occult
scholar, John L. Steadman, H.P. Lovecraft
& the Black Magickal Tradition.
Steadman’s intent is not to assert
that Lovecraft was in any way a “practicing occultist” but to demonstrate his
considerable influence on Western occultism and aspects of the New Age
movement, a phenomenon S.T. Joshi touched lightly on in his two volume biography
of the author. This is a fascinating
topic and worth more attention than it has received to date. The publisher is Red Wheel/Weiser.
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