Transcribe
Translate
Acolyte, v. 3, issue 2, whole no. 11, Summer 1945
Page 5
More information
digital collection
archival collection guide
transcription tips
[[?]]y, one is struck by the extremely matter-of-fact, lackadaisical way in which the ghosts and similar characters are introduced. The reader is never quite certain if a character in question is dead or alive, for the ghosts lack all indications of the supernatural. Such pap may be thrilling reading for Great-aunt Elizabeth, who feels her time drawing to a close and wants some assurance that she can flit about for a few millenia as a disembodied spirit; it can scarcely be recommended to the fantasy fan, or even to the casual reader in search of entertainment. Surely no man could be imagined with stronger or more definite beliefs than H. P. Lovecraft, yet where in his stories will one find any appreciable amount of non-entertainment residue? The nearest thing to it is the way in which the materialism of his personal philosophy finds expression in the semi-satiric treatment of religious themes, but never does Lovecraft advocate this materialism, in the manner of a propagandist. It appears only in the actual modus operandi of the story development, and in such way that the mention of it in this article is no more than an extrapolation based on separate knowledge of the man. It is highly doubtful if any modern master of weird or pure fantasy has embued any of his stories with non-entertainment residue, and if such cases exist, they will be found in the more obscure portion of the author's output. No matter how different in approach, style, or technique, the works of these men will have the one common denominator; they will prove to have been written solely for entertainment. WRITER MOTIVATIONS. We will grant, then, for purposes of argument at least, that the prime purpose of fantastic fiction is reader entertainment, and that any transgression of the bounds of good taste in handling the non-entertainment residue can only disrupt or even ruin the story. But it seems obvious that the author can have a large number of different secondary objectives in writing, even while adhering strictly to this chief object of entertainment. It might be of passing interest to examine a few of these. One of the commonest purposes of a fantasy is the creation of some specific mood, usually that of horror. Practically all successful weird stories may be classed primarily as horror-evokers. Other moods of course may be created. What might, for want of a better term, be called a mood of "fantastic, other-worldly beauty" is frequently found in the work of Lord Dunsany, Clark Ashton Smith, and H. P. Lovecraft, among others. An excellent example is Lovecraft's The Quest of Iranon, a fragile bit of verbal music. A mood of hero worship, often blended subtly with weird horror, may be found in many stories. Robert E. Howard's Conan series is probably the outstanding example of this type; others in the genre include E. Hoffman Price's Bayonne stories and the Grey Mouser series of Fritz Lieber, Jr. Such stories as Clark Ashton Smith's The Double Shadow, or The Seven Geases, may well be said to evoke a mode of alienation, of outre other-worldliness, in addition to their primary horror. Writing under the Don Stuart pseudonym, John W. Campbell, Jr. does a masterful job of limning a mood of hopeless, black futility and pessimism in such tales as Twilight and Night. Other moods can doubtless be though of, but these few examples suffice to give an idea of the variety of moods capable of being developed as the secondary objective of a piece of fantastic writing. Practically every piece of fiction evokes a variety of moods as one progresses through it; however for a story to be classed primarily as a mood piece, it is necessary that the evocation of this particular mood or blend of moods be the apparent chief aim of the tale. This type of story is almost invariably short, 10,000 words or less, since the mood can generally be built up in a comparatively short space, and further wordage is not only superfluous, but actually detracts from the mood itself. -- 5 --
Saving...
prev
next
[[?]]y, one is struck by the extremely matter-of-fact, lackadaisical way in which the ghosts and similar characters are introduced. The reader is never quite certain if a character in question is dead or alive, for the ghosts lack all indications of the supernatural. Such pap may be thrilling reading for Great-aunt Elizabeth, who feels her time drawing to a close and wants some assurance that she can flit about for a few millenia as a disembodied spirit; it can scarcely be recommended to the fantasy fan, or even to the casual reader in search of entertainment. Surely no man could be imagined with stronger or more definite beliefs than H. P. Lovecraft, yet where in his stories will one find any appreciable amount of non-entertainment residue? The nearest thing to it is the way in which the materialism of his personal philosophy finds expression in the semi-satiric treatment of religious themes, but never does Lovecraft advocate this materialism, in the manner of a propagandist. It appears only in the actual modus operandi of the story development, and in such way that the mention of it in this article is no more than an extrapolation based on separate knowledge of the man. It is highly doubtful if any modern master of weird or pure fantasy has embued any of his stories with non-entertainment residue, and if such cases exist, they will be found in the more obscure portion of the author's output. No matter how different in approach, style, or technique, the works of these men will have the one common denominator; they will prove to have been written solely for entertainment. WRITER MOTIVATIONS. We will grant, then, for purposes of argument at least, that the prime purpose of fantastic fiction is reader entertainment, and that any transgression of the bounds of good taste in handling the non-entertainment residue can only disrupt or even ruin the story. But it seems obvious that the author can have a large number of different secondary objectives in writing, even while adhering strictly to this chief object of entertainment. It might be of passing interest to examine a few of these. One of the commonest purposes of a fantasy is the creation of some specific mood, usually that of horror. Practically all successful weird stories may be classed primarily as horror-evokers. Other moods of course may be created. What might, for want of a better term, be called a mood of "fantastic, other-worldly beauty" is frequently found in the work of Lord Dunsany, Clark Ashton Smith, and H. P. Lovecraft, among others. An excellent example is Lovecraft's The Quest of Iranon, a fragile bit of verbal music. A mood of hero worship, often blended subtly with weird horror, may be found in many stories. Robert E. Howard's Conan series is probably the outstanding example of this type; others in the genre include E. Hoffman Price's Bayonne stories and the Grey Mouser series of Fritz Lieber, Jr. Such stories as Clark Ashton Smith's The Double Shadow, or The Seven Geases, may well be said to evoke a mode of alienation, of outre other-worldliness, in addition to their primary horror. Writing under the Don Stuart pseudonym, John W. Campbell, Jr. does a masterful job of limning a mood of hopeless, black futility and pessimism in such tales as Twilight and Night. Other moods can doubtless be though of, but these few examples suffice to give an idea of the variety of moods capable of being developed as the secondary objective of a piece of fantastic writing. Practically every piece of fiction evokes a variety of moods as one progresses through it; however for a story to be classed primarily as a mood piece, it is necessary that the evocation of this particular mood or blend of moods be the apparent chief aim of the tale. This type of story is almost invariably short, 10,000 words or less, since the mood can generally be built up in a comparatively short space, and further wordage is not only superfluous, but actually detracts from the mood itself. -- 5 --
Hevelin Fanzines
sidebar
