The Tsathoggua Cycle (edited by Robert M. Price) – Review
If you’re reading this blog entry, you’re probably already familiar with Chaosium’s fiction anthologies. If so, go ahead and skip to the second paragraph. For the rest of you, Chaosium (publishers of the Call of Cthulhu role-playing game) has been publishing short story collections for over a decade that concentrate on authors and concepts of the Cthulhu Mythos, the majority of which have been edited by Robert Price. The Tsathoggua Cycle continues this tradition, concentrating on the toad-god Tsathoggua.
The Tsathoggua Cycle is, in many ways, a typical anthology by Chaosium, i.e. a mixed bag. While the introductory essay by Price is not one of his most mind-blowing pieces, he has done a sound job compiling a variety of tales of the toad-god, from both professional publications and the amateur press, tracing Tsathoggua’s literary origins to modern stories of St. Toad.
Unfortunately, the first full story is the over-anthologized “The Seven Geases” by Clark Ashton Smith, the inventor of Tsathoggua. Although I understand it’s relevance in this particular anthology, I cannot understand the attention this rather pat allegorical tale has engendered over the years. In fact, it is the weakness of this particular tale that kept me from exploring the works of Clark Ashton Smith until much later.
Smith more than redeems himself with the following stories, “The Testament of Athammus”, “The Tale of Satampra Zeiros”, and to a lesser extent, “The Theft of the Thirty-Nine Girdles”. These are certainly some of the best stories of his that I have encountered, and especially “The Testament of Athammus” actually rivals Lovecraft, which is rare amongst both his contemporaries and imitators. “The Testament of Athammus” shows off Smith’s strength of ironic narration, and manages to deliver some genuine chills.
“The Tale of Satampra Zeiros”, on the other hand, isn’t quite a horror story, but more along the lines of a rollicking adventure story of a pair of larcenous ne’er-do-wells in the style of Jack Vance and Fritz Leiber. A blast to read, “The Tale of Satampra Zeiros” also features a fantastic monster. The sequel, “The Theft of the Thirty-Nine Girdles”, is amusing as well, although it seems to lack some of the verve that propelled the original story so well, and perhaps it was best that he decided to leave it there.
In the next story, however, James Ambuehl decides to resurrect the protagonist of the previous two tales in “Shadow of the Sleeping God”. Like many of Ambuehl’s stories, this narrative is passable if somewhat disappointing pastiche of Smith’s style. Unfortunately, when laid side-by-side with stories such as “The Tale of Satampra Zeiros” it pales in comparison. Following it are three equally as uninspired tales, “The Curse of the Toad”, “Dark Swamp”, and “The Old One”, and I won’t waste your time reviewing them other than to say I can barely recall their contents.
The next tale of note is “The Oracle of Sadoqua”, by Ron Hilger, which is a clever piece taking place during the Roman occupation of France and set within Smith’s Averoigne. Hilger is to be lauded for an intriguing admixture of elements and styles which work nicely together, as he takes cues from Robert E. Howard’s Bran Mak Morn stories and synthesizes them with Smith’s trappings. A difficult task to be certain, but Hilger’s story does not strike a discordant note.
“Horror Show”, by Gary Myers, the following piece, is perhaps the greatest disappointment of the bunch. Not to say that “Horror Show” is bad, necessarily, in fact it is quite evocative at times. Yet, considering the brilliance of Myers’ earlier Dunsanian stories, the bar is set so high that he is simply unable to live up to his own reputation. While this story may be an interesting modern spin on the “moral degeneration” of worshippers of Tsathoggua (as the K’n-Yani were so corrupted), it is by far not his most effective tale. Although I have yet to read his collection “Dark Wisdom”, I can only hope that this story is Myers simply kicking off some of the dust before he returns to form.
“The Tale of Toad Loop” by Stanley Sargent will likely please many, as it is well-written, thoughtful, and provocative. Moreover, the creature in this piece is well-conceived, and the narrator is one of the few fully realized characters to be encountered in a Lovecraft pastiche. Unfortunately, I was not pleased. Being from rural country in the American Southeast, I’m particularly sensitive to Southern or “country” accents and I found that the narrator’s accent, while not as comical as some, was a tad bit “off”, and could never fully engage in the story. I was reminded of the uncanny valley theory http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley) and found the experience jarring. Still, for most this story should not be overlooked, and Sargent is a promising talent.
After three relatively strong stories preceding it, “The Crawling Kingdom” by Rod Heather is sadly less engaging. Heather attempts to evoke ideas of the primacy and sinister mystery of the natural world just beyond our reach, but his ham-handed attempts to do so bring on no real chills. Not to say that there’s nothing to recommend this story, however, as he does have an occasional strong turn of phrase (my favorite being “this bustling amphibious orgy”). Moreover, and most interesting to me in regards to this tale, is his use of the town of Beckham, which is a creation of Stephen Mark Rainey. This sort of cross-pollination amongst modern Mythos authors is, in my mind, something that should be actively encouraged as far too often they only make reference to the founders of the subgenre and not to their contemporaries. Lovecraft and company not only recognized the accomplishments of their forebears but also each other, which is a lesson lost on many of his descendents.
Finally, the anthology is rounded out by a solid Smith pastiche by Henry J. Vester III, “The Resurrection of Kzadool-Ra”. Mr. Vester manages to capture both the whimsy and the fatalism of Smith’s style in this satire set in Zothique.
Like most the Chaosium’s anthologies the overall quality of The Tsathoggua Cycle is questionable. While certainly indispensible to would-be Mythos authors or fans of Call of Cthulhu who are looking to get a greater understanding of Tsathoggua, and to Mythos collectors who enjoy Price’s plundering of obscure and out-of-print fanzines, the majority of the pieces are fair to middling at best. The stand-out here is, of course, Clark Ashton Smith and the best stories in this anthology are those that best pay him homage. To the casual reader I suggest you pick up a collection of Smith’s works, but for those who have enjoyed other entries in Chaosium’s Cycle Series, or Mythos collections in general, you’ll find exactly what you expect here.
Review – Blasphemies & Revelations by Robert M. Price
Fair warning for Mythos fans who will be coming to this with a predisposition against Price for his editorial essays – I love his post-modern religious deconstructions, so I won’t be holding it against him.
Blasphemies and Revelations is a titanic tome of eldritch lore, with over 500 pages of hard-bound Lovecraft pastiche at what may be its finest. While Price is certainly not a “new voice” who steps away from the crowd of Lovecraft imitators, such as T.E.D. Klein or Ramsey Campbell, he is certainly a master craftsman in recreating those stories that we loved so well.
My own love-hate relationship with pastiche is not, in fact, the very derivative nature of many Mythos authors, but the inability of said authors to reproduce what they’re promising us. Too often they seem to more closely imitate Lin Carter than H.P. Lovecraft, and the only horror to be derived is watching the narrative train wreck unfold.
Price, however, delivers something entirely different. Over his years of analyzing Lovecraft he has clearly “got it”, understanding what makes certain stories resonate with the audience so well. For example, in his story “An Antique Coffin”, he manages to recreate that sense of loss that Lovecraft evoked in his Dunsanian stories, primarily “The White Ship”, and to a greater effect than any imitator has done.
Moreover, in certain cases he is capable of taking tropes and actually improving on them, such as the hilarious “Dope War of the Black Tong”, which features a brilliant team-up of Robert E. Howard’s Steve Harrison and Lin Carter’s Dr. Anton Zarnak. Now, as I’ve previously expressed, I have a low opinion of Mr. Carter’s fiction, and likewise I think little of Howard’s oveure. However, by reveling in the sheer joy of their awfulness, Price is able to create something sublime. Following is a brief sample of that piece:
“The narcotic Nirvana served up a counterfeit peace, one with a heavy price, but even heavier than usual tonight. The tablueau held for a moment; then the heavy oak door burst inward as if suffering the impact of a medieval siege engine. Of course not even this disturbance could retrieve the attention of the far-gone dope victims in the place, but the sudden noise, like an explosion, galvanized several of the man who must have been feigning their drugged stupor. Throwing off concealing blankets and shawls, a handful of powerful, armed Orientals, their nationalities obscure in this rich gloom, sprang like Siberian tigers to meet the challenge of whatever army it was who had invaded their secret privacy. And it was an army: an army named Steve Harrison.
The one-man posse of River Street set his feet squarely, while the blue steel of twin automatics leaped into his fists and began to discharge a hail of white man’s justice into the knot of Oriental thugs.”
If there was any doubt from the preceding paragraph, Price is playing it to the hilt and loving every minute. This enthusiasm for the work, as well as his deep familiarity with it, comes through loud and clear through the entire book, carrying you through to the end, even in those stories that tend to drag a bit.
And, admittedly, there are parts that drag. Although one of the strongest anthologies of Lovecraftian fiction to be produced in some time, occasionally they can seem a bit overly similar. This is especially the case when Price relies too heavily on religious and academic tropes, a field that he is very familiar with. Not to say that all of his stories featuring these themes suffer because of them, in fact, many are better for them (especially “The Deprogrammer”, in which Price shows off his wellspring of knowledge on modern cults, and “The Devil’s Steps”, which has one of the best closing lines in the book). However, occasionally one finds themselves wondering if they haven’t read this before.
Overall, though, this book is easily worth the somewhat hefty cover Price. Let’s hope that if this collection sells well we will see Mr. Price return fully to the field. We certainly need more of him.
