Professional Documents
Culture Documents
H P Lovecraft From The Occult World Rou
H P Lovecraft From The Occult World Rou
H.P. LOVECRAFT
Erik Davis
492
out of high school, falling into a period of intense social isolation that was relieved
when he discovered the world of amateur journalism. In 1919, his psychologically
unstable mother was also committed to an asylum. Shortly after her death two years
later, Lovecraft met and eventually married Sonia Greene, an older Jewish woman
and the only obvious love interest in Lovecraft’s rather asexual life. His relationship
with Greene brought him to New York City for a few years but the marriage did not
last long and Lovecraft returned to his beloved Providence, where he lived with his
aunts. A teetotaler with a simple diet, he generally hewed to an ascetic existence, but
he traveled some and maintained an extraordinarily voluminous and thoughtful
correspondence with many friends and peers, including amateur journalists and
weird iction writers like Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, and other members
of the ‘Lovecraft circle.’ He died of intestinal cancer in 1937 at the age of 46.
Publishing his iction chiely in Weird Tales, Lovecraft was not widely read during
his life, and his archaisms and other stylistic mannerisms turned off some pulp fans
just as they continue to challenge readers today. Drawing inspiration from earlier
masters of the weird tale like Poe, Arthur Machen, Lord Dunsany, and William Hope
Hodgson, Lovecraft wrote scores of striking short stories and novellas that, for all
their inconsistency and even contradiction, are held together by an enigmatic
intertextual web that includes the invented New England geography of ‘Arkham
country’; grimoire titles like the Pnakotic Manuscripts and the dread Necronomicon;
a cosmology of multiple dimensions and recurrent Dreamlands; and a pantheon of
barbarously named beings like Cthulhu and Azathoth, who are generally known as
the ‘Great Old Ones’ or the ‘Outer Gods.’ During his lifetime, Lovecraft encouraged
members of his literary circle to contribute stories to what Lovecraft informally
called, after one of his principle beings, his Yog-Sothery. Following Lovecraft’s death,
August Derleth, who founded Arkham Horror largely to publish the work of his
friend and mentor, coined the term ‘Cthulhu Mythos’ to describe this shared ictional
universe, which Derleth and others in the Circle continued to elaborate and extend.
Over time, thousands of amateur and professional writers across the globe would
come to do the same, as well as numerous ilmmakers, illustrators, sculptors, game
and toy designers, and comic-book artists. Lovecraft’s work has also spawned a
thriving and appropriately arcane domain of Lovecraft scholarship, and has even
been addressed by philosophers like Graham Harman and Gilles Deleuze. Arguably
the most unusual response to Lovecraft’s work, however, has come from occultists,
who have made his work perhaps the single most signiicant ictional inspiration for
contemporary magical theory and practice, particularly within chaos magic and
various left-hand and Thelemic currents.
493
hexing, and healing techniques associated with rural life or communities with low
degrees of social status and formal education. This ‘popular’ magical culture has in
many ways left scant traces in the historical record, which in turn has allowed scholars
and occultists alike to invent sometimes highly speculative accounts of its
characteristics—accounts that themselves sometimes become part of the occultist
milieu.
Lovecraft’s most extended engagement with the Western esoteric stream occurs in
his short novel The Case of Charles Dexter Ward, written in 1927 but not published
until after his death. Relatively free of Yog-Sothery, the work also stands as Lovecraft’s
most thorough treatment of his recurrent theme of ancestral possession, as well as a
monument to the man’s love for the architecture and history of Providence. In the
story, we learn of the young Charles Ward’s obsession with and eventual resurrection
of his forefather Joseph Curwen, an eighteeth-century necromancer, alchemist, and
psychopathic murderer who discovered the art of using ‘essential Saltes’ to re-animate
dead shades. Though not as scholarly as many of Lovecraft’s heroes and villains,
Curwen is a man of education and high status. At one point we are given a brief
catalog of Curwen’s library, which includes books of occult and natural philosophy
by Paracelsus, Van Helmont, Trithemius, and Robert Boyle, as well as classic esoteric
texts like the Zohar and the Hermetica. Lovecraft’s regular inclusion of rare books,
as well as the narrative device of a young researcher studying his or his locality’s past,
helps set up his central concern with the ironic dialectics of forbidden knowledge.
Charles Dexter Ward, for example, is killed by the object of his genealogical research.
But perhaps the most succinct expression of this dialectic lies in the game play of
Chaosium’s highly successful Call of Cthulhu RPG franchise: the more a character
learns about the Mythos, the closer they come to going insane.
In his catalogs of grimoires, Lovecraft usually includes a copy of one of his most
famous ictional inventions: the dreaded Necronomicon, a book by ‘the mad Arab
Abdul Alhazred’ concerning the lore and invocation of the Old Ones. By including the
Necronomicon alongside esoteric books, Lovecraft helped heed his own admonition
that, for a weird story to be effective, it must be devised ‘with all the care and
verisimilitude of an actual hoax.’ Some readers, then and now, believed that The
Necronomicon was an actual text, and Lovecraft himself wrote a brief pseudo-history
of the book, which we learn was translated into Greek by Theodorus Philetas, into
Latin by Olaus Wurmius, and later into an unpublished, fragmentary English edition
by the Renaissance mage John Dee. Despite his playful references to esoteric literature,
however, Lovecraft did not have enough respect for the occult to become a scholar of
it; in the mid-1920s, with his Yog Sothery already underway, Lovecraft admitted that
his knowledge of the history of magic was largely restricted to the Encyclopedia
Britannica. That said, Lovecraft did recognize that learned magic is in part characterized
by the intertextual web of referentiality that grows between largely inaccessible and
cryptically entitled books, a web that itself can be imaginatively extended. Alongside
the Necronomicon, whose name came to Lovecraft in a dream, Lovecraft’s Mythos
stories include references to many other invented grimoires, like the Book of Eibon
and De Veris Mysteriis, both of which, in a second-order instantiation of the
intertextual web, were concocted by other writers in Lovecraft’s circle.
Alongside Lovecraft’s inventive engagement with the esoteric occultism, he also
wrote obsessively about primitive or atavistic magical cults, often composed of rural,
494
495
and his nightmares also seem to take place within an ‘indescribably angled’
hyperspace. Within these seething abysses, Gilman regularly encounters a small
polyhedron and a mass of ‘prolately spheroidal bubbles’ that turn out in the end to
be none other than Keziah and her familiar. Lovecraft is thus able to ‘save the
appearances’ of supernatural folklore by superimposing them onto an expansively
naturalistic if no less disturbing cosmos.
496
which features a ‘shining trapezohedron’ used by an extinct cult called the Church of
Starry Wisdom. The Order of the Trapezoid would later become the supreme
executive body of Aquino’s Church of Set, where the Lovecraftian current was
interpreted in part as a force of apocalyptic subjectivity. Other notable Lovecraftian
orders over the decades have included the Lovecraftian Coven, founded by Michael
Bertiaux, a practitioner of ‘Gnostic Voudon’; Cincinatti’s Bate Cabal; and The
Esoteric Order of Dagon, a Thelema- and Typhonian-inspired sect founded by Steven
Greenwood, who in the 1960s became magically identiied with Lovecraft’s ictional
hero Randolph Carter. Lovecraftian magic has also became an important, almost
signal leitmotif for chaos magicians, whose ‘postmodern’ (and largely left-hand)
approach to the contingency of traditional occult systems is resonantly afirmed by
the adaptation of a ictional and profoundly anti-humanist cosmology that has the
additional feature of being concocted by a philosophical nihilist.
Having achieved an intertextual virtual reality, The Necronomicon eventually
manifested in the physical world of publications as well. In 1980, Avon Books—who
also published LaVey—released a version of Alhazred’s book by the pseudonymous
‘Simon.’ Emerging from Herman Slater’s New York occult bookstore Magickal
Childe, Simon’s text, which has never gone out of print, is a practical grimoire
featuring a ictional frame and rituals that mash up Sumerian lore and European
Goetic magic. Less popular was the Necronomicon published by George Hay, a
hodge-podge that includes literary essays, fabricated translations of John Dee, and an
introduction by Colin Wilson. The most faithfully Lovecraftian version of the
Necronomicon was arguably written by Donald Tyson and published by Llewellyn
in 2004. Tyson has since become a one-man font of Lovecraftiana, including spell
books, a Tarot deck, and an intelligent literary biography that combines sober critical
analysis with a Jungian and paranormal twist on Grant’s strategies of legitimization.
Regardless of such strategies, the occult appropriation of Lovecraft can be traced
in part to the intertextual and metaictional dynamics of the texts themselves. The
central theme that Lovecraft critic Donald Burleson identiies as ‘oneiric objectivism’
is itself the central vehicle for occultist legitimization; from this perspective, occultists
impose a second-order level of objective dreaming to the textual circuit that Lovecraft
himself established between his actual dreams and his ictional worlds. Occultists
could certainly be accused of turning Lovecraft the writer into something he’s not
and would moreover abhor. The irony, however, is that this supernaturalist
overwriting of the author’s materialism is itself inscribed in Lovecraft’s iction,
which—unlike the detective iction it occasionally resembles—usually encourages the
reader to piece together the horrifying cosmic scenario long before the bookish and
blinkered protagonists put the pieces together. In a larger sense, occultists might
simply be seen as culture makers who have, like thousands of writers, accepted
Lovecraft’s invitation to play the game of imaginatively co-creating the Mythos. In
the occultist version of the game, however, players risk the element of verisimilitude
that Lovecraft himself saw was a key element of the ‘hoax.’ And like the empty
networks of referentiality that undergird the substance of occult literature, such
games may have a life of their own.
497
498