H.P. Lovecraft

christabella_warren · #1 (**permalink**) 04-24-2008, 09:00 PM

There was a previous post by a user on a closed thread regarding H.P. Lovecraft which went something like this:

Quote:

I remember reading somewhere that Lovecraft was an atheist. Does anyone know if this is true? I don't remember Lovecraft being a 'fantasy' writer. I think RMWilliamsJr has it right when he calls H. P. an intellectual Poe. I read his books when I was in high school. Scary stuff. He even had some stories where the OT 'gods' Molech and Baal, IIRC, made cameos as monsters.

In answer to this question -- because it's actually an interesting one -- Lovecraft was indeed an 'atheist,' or so he thought, but if one reads the man's letters and certain poems of his, it's pretty clear that he didn't really know what he was. Indeed, many of his sonnets are quite Christian in both their longing for an idyllic Otherness (rather reminiscent of C.S. Lewis's Northerness) and their belief in a supernatural world existing alongside the so-called 'reality' of the material world. Two sonnets in particular stand out as examples of this:

XXX. Background
I never can be tied to raw, new things,
For I first saw the light in an old town,
Where from my window huddled roofs sloped down
To a quaint harbour rich with visionings.
Streets with carved doorways where the sunset beams
Flooded old fanlights and small window-panes,
And Georgian steeples topped with gilded vanes -
These were the sights that shaped my childhood dreams.

Such treasures, left from times of cautious leaven,
Cannot but loose the hold of flimsier wraiths
That flit with shifting ways and muddled faiths
Across the changeless walls of earth and heaven.
They cut the moment's thongs and leave me free
To stand alone before eternity.

XXIII. Mirage
I do not know if ever it existed -
That lost world floating dimly on Time's stream -
And yet I see it often, violet-misted,
And shimmering at the back of some vague dream.
There were strange towers and curious lapping rivers,
Labyrinths of wonder, and low vaults of light,
And bough-crossed skies of flame, like that which quivers
Wistfully just before a winter's night.

Great moors led off to sedgy shores unpeopled,
Where vast birds wheeled, while on a windswept hill
There was a village, ancient and white-steepled,
With evening chimes for which I listen still.
I do not know what land it is - or dare
Ask when or why I was, or will be, there.

Truly inspirational stuff.

On another note, greetings again to all of my beloved brothers and sisters in Christ! My long absence has been due to my sudden plunge into the college life, but I shall hopefully be able to spend more time on this board hereafter!

bookslover · #2 (**permalink**) 04-26-2008, 02:50 PM

Very interesting. I didn't know that Lovecraft was a poet, also.

And welcome back to the board!