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Fanfare, v. 2, issue 1, whole no. 7, August 1941
Page 10
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[[SLANDER?]] by joseph gilbort Now the tales of Lovecraft are many and strange, and, for sheer imaginative horror, the wild, dark atmosphere of a Poe story cannot be excelled; and yet nothing, nothing ever glimpsed in the most frightful tales in our literature, can ever compare feebly with an actual, material creation of a rather terribly muddling nature. That creation is the human brain. Its heights are surprisingly magnificent; its depths horribly unspeakable, and in the twilit regions, in the misty dimness of its vast halls; glide and whisper--shadow things---things that are too utterly distorted for either you or I, dear reader, to conceive of in this time and space. It is a thing with so many contradictions, so many twisted labyrinths, so many unbelievable obscenities, that the psychologist who profess to study it are like blind men trying to conceive color by feeling it. And it is not unlikely that their ignorance is, after all, a fortunate thing indeed. All of which leads up cheerfully to nothing at all. I have neither a profound nor startling conclusion to make. The whole darn thing just occurred to me in connection with Wollheim. For certainly there are few men whose thought streams could compare in interest, psychologically, with that of Don's now. It was only three or four years ago that he as the most hated man in the entire fan world. His guts were cordially detested and cursed, as seldom any single set of guts have been hated before. Now Fandom was riding high, and Sykora was everybody's sweet Willyum. Don loathed Willie with all the consuming loathing that only former friendship can beget. The sentiment, it is hardly necessary to point out, was horribly reciprocated in kind. The tide came in and it was a rip-tide. When it went out the Unholy Three went with it. Now Wollheim is getting along nicely---a status that may change with the coming FAPA elections--with just about everybody; and Sykora, because of his stupid, childish pettiness, and for other reasons not so worthy of repetition, has become fandom's pariah, the untouchable, the horrible example. Moskowitz is regarded simply as a not-too-bad guy who got in with a rotten crowd: Taurasi as just a garden-variety dope, born to be a damn fool, but with no native viciousness. But Sykora ---! Hitler is in a better psoition than Will---there are a few yaps ywho actually like Adolf! The bitterness of those early years, there can be no doubt, has become a part of Wollheim's character, along with secretiveness, and a vitriolic tongue. Acquired traits. Evidence is not lacking, on the other hand, that this latter does not apply to Sykora; it would seem that universal dislike merely brought out into the light concealed innate character---or lack of it. Hypocrisy, for example: hypocrisy like his statement that the Boskone was conducted in hushed respectful
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[[SLANDER?]] by joseph gilbort Now the tales of Lovecraft are many and strange, and, for sheer imaginative horror, the wild, dark atmosphere of a Poe story cannot be excelled; and yet nothing, nothing ever glimpsed in the most frightful tales in our literature, can ever compare feebly with an actual, material creation of a rather terribly muddling nature. That creation is the human brain. Its heights are surprisingly magnificent; its depths horribly unspeakable, and in the twilit regions, in the misty dimness of its vast halls; glide and whisper--shadow things---things that are too utterly distorted for either you or I, dear reader, to conceive of in this time and space. It is a thing with so many contradictions, so many twisted labyrinths, so many unbelievable obscenities, that the psychologist who profess to study it are like blind men trying to conceive color by feeling it. And it is not unlikely that their ignorance is, after all, a fortunate thing indeed. All of which leads up cheerfully to nothing at all. I have neither a profound nor startling conclusion to make. The whole darn thing just occurred to me in connection with Wollheim. For certainly there are few men whose thought streams could compare in interest, psychologically, with that of Don's now. It was only three or four years ago that he as the most hated man in the entire fan world. His guts were cordially detested and cursed, as seldom any single set of guts have been hated before. Now Fandom was riding high, and Sykora was everybody's sweet Willyum. Don loathed Willie with all the consuming loathing that only former friendship can beget. The sentiment, it is hardly necessary to point out, was horribly reciprocated in kind. The tide came in and it was a rip-tide. When it went out the Unholy Three went with it. Now Wollheim is getting along nicely---a status that may change with the coming FAPA elections--with just about everybody; and Sykora, because of his stupid, childish pettiness, and for other reasons not so worthy of repetition, has become fandom's pariah, the untouchable, the horrible example. Moskowitz is regarded simply as a not-too-bad guy who got in with a rotten crowd: Taurasi as just a garden-variety dope, born to be a damn fool, but with no native viciousness. But Sykora ---! Hitler is in a better psoition than Will---there are a few yaps ywho actually like Adolf! The bitterness of those early years, there can be no doubt, has become a part of Wollheim's character, along with secretiveness, and a vitriolic tongue. Acquired traits. Evidence is not lacking, on the other hand, that this latter does not apply to Sykora; it would seem that universal dislike merely brought out into the light concealed innate character---or lack of it. Hypocrisy, for example: hypocrisy like his statement that the Boskone was conducted in hushed respectful
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