Elegant Amusement

No. 1 (March 2007)

an apa for SSWFT by: Phillip A. Ellis 2/3 Monterey Avenue Banora Point NSW Australia 2486 ubervole@yahoo.com.au

Some Notes from a Nonentity Well, I'm back. Back in SSWFT, with a new apazine, with new material, and with a new lease of life. I simply missed you fellows too much. In association with my apazine for EOD, I am presenting you with the chapters of my forthcoming book on Lovecraft's aesthetics, as I write them. Due to monetary difficulties, I could not present them with the first chapter, after the introduction, for the current mailing. I will try to do so for the next one, hopefully. Instead, its first appearance shall be here: in this issue you will find both the introductory chapter, and the next. I see the introduction as more of a chapter than strictly prefatory material, really, and will treat it as such, unless I am convinced otherwise. It is not my place to dictate responses to my material, of course, but I am looking for detailed responses to the chapters in particular. I also plan--eventually--to include material relating to weird verse in general, and the three musketeers in particular. Some of that will have to wait until I have time. I have three subjects in line for the first semester, and another for second. For those of you unaware, I am at university. I have this year to go for my basic degree; with luck, I shall have Honours to complete, which will be another 2 years on top of that. With luck, I may be able to proceed onto a PhD immediately afterwards, although an MA is an attractive option, if I can get to do further bbliographic studies. Then there is my weird verse. I hope that you would like to see some examples of my poetry, but I shall leave that up to you essentially. If you want it, ask for it. It's as simple as that. Anyway, I look forward to another stretch with you chaps. As you'll expect, this being a new apazine, the first issue thereof, there are no mailcoms for your perusal. Expect some next issue. yrs Phillip

An Introduction to H. P. Lovecrafts Aesthetic Thought For some writers, the interaction of their creative work and their philosophical thought is both rewarding and fascinating. For one such as H. P. Lovecraft, where this philosophical thought dominates the creative work, it is important to look at them both, if at first in isolation, then in tandem. This allows us to see them interact, and how each affects and influences the other. Fortunately, there have been a number of studies of Lovecrafts philosophy, foremost among them those by S. T. Joshi. While each have not only identified the essentials, but looked in depth at the various branches of Lovecrafts philosophical thought, each has had to compromise in some ways. They have seen some as less interesting, and concentrated on others according to the authors interests. What is needed, then, is a fuller exploration of each branch, initially in isolation, thence in relation to the other aspects of Lovecrafts overall thought. This process will have to start somewhere. Although this may not be the first work to isolate a branch of Lovecrafts philosophy, this is the first book to look in greater detail at the aesthetic thought of Lovecraft. Why, then, is his aesthetic thought worth studying? It is worth studying for a number of reasons. Each of these is worthy of fuller consideration, before looking further at the sources for the aesthetic thought. First, Lovecraft was intimately involved with the creation and expression of beauty through literature. Second, it becomes a major focus of the theories underlying his art, that find expression both formally through essays, and informally in his correspondence. Third, it allows us to develop our own thought, through inspiration and reaction to the ideas, and, finally, like much about Lovecraft, it is simply interesting. As noted, these reasons are worthy of fuller examination. With the creation and expression of beauty, it must be remembered that Lovecraft created more than just cosmic horror. In his prose poems, his poems, and a number of his fantasies, the keynote is not terror, but beauty. As aesthetics concerns itself in part with beauty and the beautiful, so too does a small, if significant, portion of Lovecrafts work. This admixture is most clearly evident in a work such as the Fungi from Yuggoth, where the beautiful is explored in suchlike as Mirage, Expectancy, and The Gardens of Yin, as well as in other works such as The Quest of Iranon. Thus, we can see that the creation and expression of beauty played its part in Lovecrafts oeuvre, and that it must play a part, then, in our further considerations of it. Thus, as the aesthetic theories are a major part of Lovecrafts wider thought, they underlie much of his art. What beauty is, for example, what the role of art is, and similar concerns underpin a certain proportion of his nonfiction and epistolary writings which, though dwarfed numerically by other pieces, nonetheless display an importance for his work and thought in total. What makes for great art underlies, for example, Pickmans Model. This and other examples make plain that, to understand these aspects of Lovecrafts creativity more fully, then some note has to be made upon the underlying aesthetic thought, as it influenced and developed in them. Thus, to understand the

importance of realism in art in Pickmans Model, then some account needs to be made regarding the arts in general, and painting in particular, in Lovecrafts thought. This leads to the third reason. Whether or not we agree with Lovecraft is immaterial. What is important is that, once we begin to comprehend his aesthetic thought, we can start to both formulate our own response to it, and formulate our own views in particular. That is, we can start to consider the same questions and areas that he considered, and we can start to form our own minds on these issues. Before we consider answers to what is art, or what is beauty, we must first consider the questions that have and will be put forward; understanding Lovecraft is merely one step in understanding for ourselves what those questions and answers can be. Finally, the aesthetic thought of Lovecraft is interesting for its own sake. We may never need to consider what the basic function of realism in literature is, and yet, since Lovecraft does, we can now look at what he considered, and find it interesting for its own sake. Lovecrafts aesthetic thought reveals much about himself, and it helps us see him with clearer sight, as a person and thinker. By considering it, then, we can learn much about Lovecraft, but more importantly we can seek in it the same elegant amusement that meant so much for Lovecraft. It is, though entertaining to a degree, an intellectual entertainment, and a complex one capable of bestowing upon the reader insight, enlightenment and enjoyment. These reasons, in total, should compel us to consider his aesthetic thought, its development, and its relation to the other areas of his thought and work. However, before doing so, it is important to briefly consider the sources of our knowledge of Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. The sources of Lovecrafts aesthetic thought can be subdivided into three areas. The first is Lovecrafts fiction. The second are essays by Lovecraft, that address these and related topics. Finally, there are Lovecraft's letters, many of which contain passages of interest. Numerically, the letters far outweigh the other two and, whilst not as connected as the essays, they nonetheless form what is probably the most important area of the three. Again, it does well to examine these briefly, before moving on, this time to examine how these differ. Yet the three main sources differ in a number of significant ways, and this affects their usefulness as sources for Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. That is, each fulfills its own function. The function of the fiction, for example, determines in part the suitability of that source for our reading of the aesthetic thought. Another consideration is that of audience: how the three differ in audience affect their usefulness, as considerations of the intended audience affect our readings of the source material. Finally, the sources focus determines the degree to which the source material is applicable to specific or general uses. Each of these three considerations affect the ways in which we can utilise the various sources, and what we can derive from them. There are, further, both general and specific limitations to the sources, and to their utility in looking at Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. In general, each was written for Lovecrafts intentions, not

ours, so that they address his concerns, not ours. Even if we concern ourselves with his intentions, these are ultimately irrecoverable. What we have to work with is what we have, and we can go no further than these sources without speculation and guesswork. Such is ultimately futile, and should be avoided. They are also limited in that they address, for the most part, limited aspects of his aesthetic thought. There is little that gives us an overview, a sweeping statement, and even then the context of the pieces delivery helps limit the suitability of the source. Thus, we are both limited in what we can address, and in our ability to apply one or more statements beyond their immediate context. Thus, in a way, our knowledge is necessarily fragmented, incomplete, but such a state must not stop us from the attempt to understand Lovecraft more fully. What, then, can be derived from the sources, and how does this enlighten us regarding Lovecrafts aesthetic thought? Understanding what can be derived from each area is important, as it enables us to observe in closer detail not only some of the limitations, but also some of the benefits that can be derived. Therefore, in looking at the sources, and asking what can be derived therefrom, we can understand more fully what we can gain, and understand, prior to the actual effort of the examination itself. We can prepare ourselves, in other words, and come to the source material in an informed, enlightened manner. The use of fiction to convey elements of his aesthetic theories occurs rarely in Lovecrafts work. Of the tales, Pickmans Model addresses most clearly the arts, through its discussion of painting. This points towards a major thematic aspect of Lovecrafts thought. He is a theoretician of the arts, and therefore, as a result, his aesthetic thought directly addresses those theories. The Hound on the other hand, is less definite, less precise; it is as if the discussion is a by-product of the tale, rather than a focus of it, which will come into play in the later discussion of it as a satire of decadent fiction. Most of the relevant fiction is scattered, and as the fiction is dominated by the theme of humanity's place in the cosmos, so too is the philosophical thought within it. As a result, what may be gained from the fiction is limited, gaining fuller relevance only through the other sources of Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. The fictions primary emphasis is not, though, to convey philosophical thought directly, but to deal with it whilst providing artistic pleasure. Its function is, in essence, elegant amusement, and while it deals with aspects of aesthetic thought in part and passing, it does so in pursuit of its other aims. In this respect it is unlike the essays, and more like the correspondence. Its audience is all the more greater, and more negatively defined. The readers of the fiction are not specifically seeking out the philosophical thought for the most part: they are content to enjoy the story at the same time as they indirectly absorb the philosophical basis for his stories. Yet, a smaller audience is able and capable of looking more directly for the philosophical thought and its literary expression, and is closer to the ideal audience that Lovecrafts fiction deserves. These, then, read in main part because of the philosophy, and the pleasures of its expression. Finally, the focus is diffuse. It is

directed away from the philosophical thought, and towards the narrative and the emotional conveyance of the authors worldview. Thus, the aesthetic thought, when dealt with, is dealt with in passing, and not as the major focus of the story. In specific terms, the fiction is particularly limited. As noted, its primary purpose is to amuse, to entertain, if not the audience then Lovecraft himself. While it deals with aspects of aesthetic thought in part, and in passing, then, where possible, only the germane passages have been noted, and divorced from the general context in which they are presented. Like the correspondence, the fiction becomes something to be mined, sifted through rather than ingested in whole. Further, the fiction is intended as entertainment, elegant amusement, so to speak. Its utility is circumscribed by its nature as fiction, and this and other limitations must be taken into account when using it as a source for Lovecraft's aesthetic thought. What we can gain from the fiction is a measure, in part, of the material within certain, albeit ultimately fictional, contexts. In addition, we can gain some measure of Lovecrafts preoccupations as they affect his creative processes. We gain a fuller understanding, also, of how his worldview is expressed through his fiction, which is important when we consider, for example, the nature of humanitys relation to the cosmos, or the most appropriate political forms, as later developed. In this way we can see Lovecraft as a philosophical writer, thereby raising the visibility of those passages dealing with aesthetics. Paradoxically, in being fiction, part of fiction, these passages become more truthful, indicative of Lovecrafts aesthetic stance, and therefore important in any consideration of his aesthetic thought: if fiction is lying, and these passages are truthful examinations of Lovecrafts thought, then, therefore, these passages become truthful lies. The same is true of the other areas of his thought, and must be remembered. The essays, however, are of greater value. Many directly address the theories and concerns of Lovecrafts developing thought. Thus, his concern with verse, as a major art, is clearly represented by The Vers Libre Epidemic, Poesy, The Despised Pastoral, Notes on Verse Technique, and What Belongs in Verse. The question of classicism as an aesthetic force is addressed in, for example, The Case for Classicism, and Heritage or Modernism. And, finally, the weird in literature is addressed in such works as Lord Dunsany and his Work, Supernatural Horror in Literature, Notes on Writing Weird Fiction, and In Defence of Dagon. As these and other essays show, Lovecraft was concerned to address directly aspects of his aesthetic thought, doing so largely for an amateur audience. However, in doing so he developed an important body of work. What we can gain from the essays are fully developed arguments. They explore more fully the ideas and concerns of Lovecraft, and are therefore a major and important source of his aesthetic thought. But they are not the only source of importance. The essays are more directly focused than the fiction, with a potentially greater use for the researcher. Their function is to deal with the philosophical issues directly, in coherent narratives of

thought. In this way, they are most unlike the fiction. Their audience is also more tightly defined. They are intended for readers directly interested in the questions and issues raised, and so are more alike the fiction, in some ways, than the correspondence. Finally, the focus is tighter, though more expansive, than the fiction. It is tighter because it is concerned with the central issues and their ramifications, with the philosophical thought, rather than a fictional narrative. It is more expansive because it is able, at length, to look more closely at the ramifications and implications of the central theses, and at the minutiae that determine the extent of the philosophical thought in question. Thus, the essays are more directly useful than the fiction. Whilst immediately germane to the study of the aesthetic thought, the essays nonetheless have a particular limitation, one shared to an extent with the correspondence. Their primary aim is to persuade, and in doing so they are affected by Lovecrafts use of rhetoric. By this focus on persuasion, rather than investigation, the essays are limited to a function of seeking others to adopt a position, rather than exploring Lovecrafts. They say, in effect, that we should adopt this position, or that, rather than that we should examine the authors own. Thus, in using the essays, this persuasive function must be considered, and kept in mind. Finally, we can gain from the essays, perhaps, the most sustained expressions of his aesthetic thought. Whilst they have some limitations, they nonetheless enable us to see him develop his thought towards its logical results. We gain, too, a measure of the importance within his intellectual life of these themes, even if limited to some extent by the context of their composition and publication. We see, then, Lovecraft here as the critical thinker, the theorist, and therefore we gain a measure of his powers and preoccupations. We also gather, to a large degree, the importance of some areas of his aesthetic thought, though it could be expressed that, given his views on amateur journalism, such thoughts are necessarily distorted towards certain themes and areas. This leaves, in turn, the correspondence. For the most part, the passages are scattered. They occur with some frequency in those to specific correspondents: they speak, that is, of shared interests or concerns, and these are of particular value. Overall, they outnumber the other sources for Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. They are important, mostly, for this range, but also for their ability to cover various areas not touched in Lovecrafts other sources. They are also important in that they explore more fully the connections with Lovecrafts other areas of thought. Overall, then, the correspondence is integral to a wider understanding of Lovecrafts aesthetic theories and concerns, and it deserves the fullest consideration. The letters are the least fettered of the three sources, with an ability to move from topic to topic. In this way, they resemble in part the fiction, whilst avoiding the overall focus of the essays. Their functions vary from letter to letter, but all are intended to convey to a specific recipient Lovecrafts thought. Their audience reflects this: each is intended for one person, the recipient, and it is a historical accident that they exist to give a wider readership the information and thought

contained therein. Thus, what we derive from them is limited in this wayby being intended for a specific individual, the letters reflect most upon individual concerns, which may or may not have relevance to the wider thought. Yet, paradoxically, it is in the letters that we find the fullest expression of aesthetic thought, in part as a result of congenial correspondents, in part as a result of the importance of aesthetic thought for Lovecraft himself. Finally, though the focus is tight in the various passages, it is also more diffuse, passing from topic to topic. Thus, while the narratives digress in this way, in doing so they are for the most part pertinent and germane to our wider concerns, and are as useful as the essays, and more so than the fiction. The correspondence, further, has its own peculiar limitations. Though limited like the essays, in that it hasto a degreerhetorical functions, it is specifically limited in that its ultimate context is irrecoverable. We lack, for the most part, the corresponding letters from their recipients, and for the most part this lack hinders our ability to read their statements in a wider context. It is also limited in that, for the most part, its appearances are limited to what amount to extracts rather than full letters. Until such a time as the full text is available, and in an authoritative edition backed by the imprimatur of such an authority as S. T. Joshi, the letters remain in effect provisional documents, and any conclusion derived from them in effect remaining tentative, and partial. Yet it is from the correspondence that we gain a fuller measure of the concerns and preoccupations of Lovecrafts thought. In some ways, this is a purer source than the essays, written with no concerns beyond those immediate to the circumstances of its composition. Though the essays range more widely, they do so in a more piecemeal fashion: no one letter addresses all the areas that we could wish. Nonetheless, where the correspondence is important is in the concentration, and the range of themes and issues addressed. By sheer weight, by numbers, by this range, they become, perhaps, the most important source for Lovecrafts aesthetic thought, and they permit us the widest area of examination. These, then, are the main sources for Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. Some conclusions, therefore, may be reached about the differences between the three main sources for our understanding of Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. The fiction, whilst more diffuse, and intended for purposes other than the direct conveyance of a philosophy, is nonetheless capable of conveying some thought. It is least useful of the three, that is. The essays, whilst directly most useful due to the concentration of thought and focus, are nonetheless limited in some respects. Though their audience is greater than the letters, they must try to convey as much to more, and their language is thereby constrained in the effort. The correspondence is paradoxically the most useful; it is constrained in the sense that it refers not to wider concerns but individual ones, yet it is able to explore more, and in a purer fashion linguistically. This is born out in the sphere of poetics (not in the wider, current sense, but in the narrower sense of being related to poetry). Here, the numerous letters to Elizabeth Toldridge come into an importance unmatched by other correspondence. In these ways, then, the

three sources differ, and in doing so they lead us to considerations of what limitations they have, as sources and examples of Lovecrafts thought. Nonetheless, what remains here is to discuss the common themes and concerns, preparatory to the following chapters. Doing so allows us some measure of understanding what will be discussed more fully, preparing us for this discussion and analysis. This is all that remains, before some concluding remarks, to be achieved in this chapter. An understanding of some of the common themes and concerns is important, as they occur and recur in the source material. They enable us to look more closely at what can be derived from the sources, and they help refine the arguments that will be developed as a result. By looking, therefore, in an ahistorical manner, at the sources overall, we can prepare for a more historically rooted examination of the aesthetic thought, as divided into three chronologically derived areas. Thus, looking at literature, art, and beauty and pleasure, we can see some of Lovecrafts basic concerns, and we can lead, therefore, into the fuller discussion of the following chapters. The first of these themes and concerns is that of literature. It dominates the discussions of aesthetics: it is the key focus and concern of Lovecraft, especially given his shift away from poetry and his early thought towards his more mature conception of himself as an author of fiction. Yet, interestingly, poetry remains a major concern, especially given the correspondence with Elizabeth Toldridge. This correspondence allows us to see the thought and theory behind his mature verse, and it allows us to also see more closely some of the concerns explored in his development as a thinker. Given this importance of literature, and given his initial self-conception as a poet, and his later one as a writer of fiction, this enables us to reach a fuller understanding of Lovecraft as a man, and a fuller and more sympathetic understanding of the crises facing him with the rejection and treatment of his later fiction. Given this literature, and this material about literature, we are given a rare opportunity to see this aspect of art for what is among the more interesting persons of the early twentieth century. This leads, too, into wider considerations of art in general. This aspect, including literature, dominates the aesthetic thought. What matters, then, is what is produced, what makes us in a way human: our aesthetic productions. Common to this consideration of art are questions of why we create, rather than what we should create. Though in many ways conservative, reacting against the principal developments of his contemporary artistic and literary milieu, Lovecraft nonetheless remains a viable and important alternative to a restless, and rootless, modernity. This is shown in his concern for art and its productions, and it allows us to see its importance not only in his thought but also his life. Though Lovecraft thought himself first and foremost a gentleman, he remained one of culture, and with it civilisation. This leads to the final themes and concerns, beauty and pleasure. Though he addresses beauty, it was not in a fundamentally abstract way divorced from other considerations. It was always beauty in relation to something else, art, poetry, or other aspects of being or thought. Beauty

exists, true, but not for its own sake so much as for the sake of being comprehended, perceived, absorbed. For pleasures sake, elegant amusement. This leads into considerations of pleasure itself. As a gentleman, Lovecraft sought pleasure rather than utility. He was, in a sense, fundamentally a hedonist: what mattered was not the degree to which something was useful, what mattered was the pleasure it afforded. Thus, we see then the importance of his early poems which, despite failures fundamentally as poems in themselves, nonetheless succeeded in affording him pleasure; thus too the later crises over the reception of his longer, ambitious fiction, and the importance placed upon self-expression rather than commercial motives for his work. Fundamentally, then, beauty and pleasure become concerns when we read his aesthetic thought in relation to his aesthetic products, and they remain, therefore, important concerns in addressing his aesthetic thought itself. These, then, are the principal themes and concerns of Lovecrafts aesthetic thought. They enable us to approach the thought itself, in detail, and in a historical manner, looking at its eventual development and expression. In doing so, we gain a fuller understanding of him as a thinker, given his concerns, and we gain a fuller understanding of him as a creator of beauty and understanding. Yet, before proceeding to his thought specifically, what remains are some general concluding remarks pertaining to his thought. We have seen, in this chapter, some preliminary concerns addressed about the aesthetic thought. We have addressed why this thought deserves to be studied. These reasons remain germane, and they are important to consider as we approach the thought itself. We have also looked more closely at the various sources of the aesthetic thoughtthe fiction, the essays, and the correspondenceand we have seen in them how they differ, their limitations, and what can be derived from them, among other issues. We have also looked more closely at the common themes and concerns, preparatory to the deeper study, and thus we have examined in part the material, in an abstract way. What remains is to conclude this chapter, with some general remarks, before embarking upon the basic study itself. In general, Lovecrafts aesthetic thought is partial, and not complete. We do not know what he thought of all aspects covered and coverable in this field of study. We know, in essence, only what he allows us to know. Yet, this is enough to examine his thought as he developed and expressed it. We cannot rely, therefore on his ultimate intentions, excepting only this: what he communicated, what he wrote and created, are in themselves the expressions of his intentions, and it is to these materials that we must therefore look to, and address. In doing so, we come to a fuller understanding of an interesting thinker, and a fascinating man. Doing so is a task well worth the effort, and well able to repay our efforts with enlightenment. The task begins, therefore, with his earliest aesthetic expressions, his so-called Classical period.

Chapter Two: "A Devotee of the Past": H. P. Lovecrafts Classicism. The origin of the tripartite division of Lovecraft's aesthetic thought comes from his own self-assessment. He writes, in one letter, "I can look back at two distinct periods of opinion whose foundations I have successively come to distrust--a period before 1919 or so, when the weight of classic authority unduly influenced me, and another period from 1919 to about 1925, when I placed too high a value on the elements of revolt, florid colour, and emotional extravagance or intensity" (HPL to Derleth, [1929], qtd. in Decline 46). The first of these three periods has been called one of Classicism, by S. T. Joshi, and it is useful to follow his lead. It is as exact a term as any other for this period. And it is an apt one. Of course, we need to define what we mean by Classicism for us to make a meaningful judgement. It is too easy to rely on assumptions, where such would lead us astray in Lovecraft's specific case. He did not, as we might assume, hold the Romans or the Greeks to be his immediate aesthetic model. At the same time, we need to consider what were the ideals of Classicism for Lovecraft himself. What it was, that is, that drew him towards it as an expression of his worldview regarding both art and beauty. Then we need to consider other, equally relevant aspects of his aesthetic thought in this period. We need to see how the strengths in work match the ideals of his favourite period, how his persona was integral to the development of his aesthetic thought, and, as well, the origins of his aesthetic thought. We need to consider the relevant outlets of the aesthetic impulse in this period, too. Further, we need to see how Lovecraft saw that art was linked to nature, and natural world, and beauty's relation to truth, before considering his reactions to modern art, partially as expressed in a number of items, both non-fiction and poetry. Finally, the transition towards his intermediate period of aesthetic thought needs to be addressed, before this chapter draws to a close. There is quite a lot to consider in this period, which was a rich and fertile period for Lovecraft. Much of his poetry was produced in the years leading up to 1919. His early fiction and non-fiction, whilst leading into his more mature work, is likewise impressive in scope and ambition, and this period saw the first efflorescence of Lovecraft, as a dedicated amateur journalist. Lovecraft started his work by loving the past, in his juvenile verse; it is no surprise that Classicism would be the first major form of aesthetic thought to appeal to him. But what, we may ask, is Classicism, and how was it expressed in Lovecraft's case? In general terms, Classicism is the aesthetic whereby Classical authors for the models and exemplars of a period or style. This is a very general, some would say transparent, definition, since Classicism itself is a term with diverse meanings and connotations. But it is interesting to note how Lovecraft defined Classicism, both for himself and for others. The definition he builds is a composite one, largely enunciated in his essay "The Case for Classicism". In it, he argues that (CE

37) "we have not only the right but the obligation to strive for the best style, and emulate the best authors, within our scope of reading." The question remains: who are the best? Classicism is predicated upon a simple concept: the past is superior to the present. We find this expressed in one of Lovecraft's letters: "The old images & allusions may be trite indeed, yet they are at least superior to the studied sterility of modern verse." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 27 November 1917, LK 121) Despite the failings of the past, it is still superior to the present; the 'now' is a decadent age, it has degenerated, and the Golden Age, so to speak, lies in the past and not the future. Therefore, for Lovecraft, "the classical author achieved a standard of simplicity, moderation, and elegance of taste, which all succeeding time has been powerless to excel or even to equal." ("The Case for Classicism" CE 37) Yet, shortly before this passage, Lovecraft noted that ("The Case for Classicism" CE 37) "The literary genius of Greece and Rome ... may fairly be said to have completed the art and science of expression;" this has lead S. T. Joshi to point out that "to say that the ancients 'completed the art and science of expression' means that there is nothing left for subsequent writers to do but to imitate." (Joshi Life 107-8) But Lovecraft, though he was content to imitate, did not imitate the Classical authors. Instead, he focused upon another period one where the "adaptation of classical models to the contemporary world ... produced the most viable literature of the period." (Joshi Life 108) As noted, the integral period for Classicism is usually taken to be Classical Greece or Rome. Lovecraft, however, favoured eighteenth century England. For him, "those modern periods have been most cultivated, in which the models of antiquity have been most faithfully followed." ("The Case for Classicism" CE 37) But here, Lovecraft misread the nature of the century; he committed a form of misprision, yet he failed to recast his eighteenth century models into something new, something germane for his time. He stagnated as a result. What this meant for Lovecraft was that he was a prisoner of his own misreading of the past. He freely admitted that he saw himself as "a devotee of the past" ("In Defence of Dagon" MW 151). "I have absolutely no use for modern forms or tendencies," he wrote to Rheinhart Kleiner (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915 LK 15), and this willful ignorance was to retard his progress, particularly in the realm of poetry. This correspondence with Kleiner is important for our understanding of Lovecraft's aesthetic thought. He freely admits, elsewhere, how his "whole interest seems wrapped up in the eighteenth century." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 27 November 1917 LK 122) So much so, in fact, that he says that his "spirit seems actually to be living in 1715 rather than 1915." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 6 December 1915, LK 28) This identification, in this period, with the Georgians affects Lovecraft in more matters than his attitude to poetry, or even literature in general. We see this in a remark that he made, again to Kleiner, about beauty: "I can never think of natural beauty, but in the terms of the eighteenth

century." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 8 November 1917, LK 119) We know that Lovecraft responded readily to scenic beauty, particularly those scenes invoking the past. What we have here is a clear indication that the Georgian spirit clearly helped delineate the nature and forms of Lovecraft's aesthetic impulse. He felt himself as part of the past, in thought, in emotion, in spirit. We read this also in an admission that he made to August Derleth. He said that he was the only "living person to whom the ancient 18th century idiom [was] actually a prose and poetic mother-tongue," (HPL to August Derleth--9 September 1931, SL III.495 407) and this admission is telling. At the same time, he apologises for his attachment to the eighteenth century. The following passage is instructive: "My taste in poetry is really defective, for I love nothing better than the resounding couplets of Dryden and Pope, unless it be the stately phraseology of Thomson's Seasons." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915 LK 15) It must be remembered this taste is not defective per se. Where Lovecraft fails is not in his reading, but his failure to learn from his models and to address modern concerns in a living and vibrant way. Some of Lovecraft's poems do address contemporary events, true, most notably the political verses of the Great War, but here they fail largely because of a jingoism and racism that deaden the works. Lovecraft's identification with the eighteenth century is particularly strengthened in his early poetry. For the most part, the verses are wooden and dull. He tells us what, or, rather, what he ought to feel, but he does not show it. We see this in the ending quatrain of "An Elegy on Franklin Chase Clark, M.D." (Lovecraft AT 432, lines 41-4): So tell me not that he no more remains, Whose silent form no word responsive gives: His body sleeps, reliev'd of earthly pains, But he, the guiding soul, immortal lives! Note the points here where Lovecraft fails. There is the grammatical inversion in line 42, which breaks the reader's attention flow. There is also the elision in "reliev'd" in line 43, which again disrupts the contemporary reader's attention. There is, also, in the two final lines what amounts to empty platitudes. Lovecraft mouths the words, but there is no corresponding emotion that he shows to us. We read of, but do not feel, the extent of Lovecraft's sorrow, and he ends seeming insincere and hollow in his sentiments. So it should not surprise that Lovecraft thought of himself as "certainly a relic of the 18th century both in prose & in verse." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) In assessing his own poetry, he saw this clearly. Of "Old Christmas", he writes: "investigation of Georgian and Queen-Anne verse will reveal the fountainhead of the venerable tradition I follow," ("In Defence of

Dagon" MW 150) and he feels that his work, overall, reflects the Georgian period, of "the elegant formalism and conventionality of the eighteenth century." ("Confession" 536) In regards his prose, he sees its exemplars again in the eighteenth century. He writes, elsewhere how he "suppose [he] picked up [his] peculiar style from Addison, Steele, Johnson & Gibbon." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) For Lovecraft, the classics, then, were more important than his contemporaries. Looking again at "The Case for Classicism", we read this clearly enough: "I cannot refrain from insisting on the permanent paramountcy of classical literature as opposed to the superficial productions of this disturbed and degenerate age." (CE 37) Note that final rhetorical flourish, especially the word "decadent". For Lovecraft, there has been a definite decline, in tastes, in standards, in usage, since his beloved eighteenth century. It is a common refrain, though, from that time. For example, Johnson himself writes: "I have studiously endeavoured to collect examples and authorities from the writers before the restoration, whose works I regard as the wells of English undefiled." (qtd. in Baugh & Cable 322) Lovecraft echoes this: "I ... am firmly of opinion that the English language has done nothing but decline since the formal school of composition disappeared." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) We see a further hint of this in his response to the history of English versification. Again, in that same letter, he writes: "The romantic movement in poetry is a vague unreality to me. I admire the later poets because they are considered admirable and I am supposed to admire them; but inwardly I cannot be weaned away from my old-fashioned couplets." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) Hence his admiration for Loveman's verse: "Loveman was a thorough archaist, going back to the era of Queen Elizabeth for his inspiration; & his ruggedness of metre was the ruggedness of a Shakespeare, not of a modern. His images and expressions were of classical purity, and wholly apart from the present trend." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) He notes, also, Loveman's "complete possession by the spirit of a former age." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) We can see, then, this Classicism in Lovecraft's earliest work, in his poems based upon pagan antiquity. These prove to be both symbolic and significant for the subsequent first period of Lovecraft's aesthetic. He was to look backwards, that is, from henceforth. It is of note that the pastoral, which Lovecraft essayed, provoked his interest precisely because of its looking back to Classical antiquity for the eighteenth century writers (CE 22); because they looked back to a 'golden' age, so did he. Of course, there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with Classicism, providing that it remains relevant to the contemporary milieu, unlike Lovecraft at worst. It is notable that the most prominent efforts at contemporaneity, the political verse of the Great War, as noted earlier, failed for reasons other than this Classicism. The following example should suffice to reveal these faults:

Thou right arm of Astraea! speed the hour When peace and order shall reward thy pow'r; When grateful lands, deliver'd from despair, Shall bless Britannia for her kindly care; When ev'ry king and country shall resort To England's judgment as the final court, And when the mighty Empire shall become A world itself--the deathless heir of Rome! ("1914" AT 398, lines 61-8) Aside from the jingoism, and the nave overestimation of English importance, these lines are not too bad, from a technical stance. To compare, the following from A. D. Hope should suffice to show what is possible with the modern heroic couplet: Next from the ranks comes clucking T. R. Henn Attended by a train of faceless men; And at his side, in female garb, there move Caroline Spurgeon, Rosamunda Tuve; Blest pair of Sirens, dredges of Heav'n's joy, His mother and his aunt, their charms employ To prove, though art is long and life is short That Drake and Shakespeare shared a favourite sport And demonstrate ad nauseam the way By Tudor rhetoric to build a play. (Read them, alas, discover to your cost: The proof's irrelevant; the play is lost.) (Hope 61-to, Book V, lines 89-100) This is a Classicism of a different sort--fresh, contemporary, skilled--and it highlights Lovecraft's failures as a poet in this particular phase of his aesthetic thought. What concerns us now, then, are the ideals of Classicism, and, what, specifically, they were for Lovecraft. There were two specific ideals of Classicism that attracted Lovecraft. The first of these was the conception of the clarity of expression. Lovecraft notes this in his essay on metrical regularity: "The language of the heart must be clarified and made intelligible to other hearts, else its purport will forever be confined to its creator." ("Metrical Regularity" 12) The purpose of art, that is, depends upon the ability to communicate something intelligibly about the "purpose of the heart." No matter what the role, or extent, of ecstasy in the creation of a work, it requires the subsequent

clarification necessary to communicate something of an insight. The second ideal was "smoothness." For Lovecraft, the ideal poet "should make his verses so smooth that the sense may never be interrupted." ("Metrical Regularity" 12) The avoidance of discord was a major factor for Lovecraft, and his stability of his psyche. It led, then, to the adoption of eighteenth century models for writing, which reminds the astute reader of Benjamin Franklin's adoption of the Spectator, as an exemplum for his own writing. Yet, whereas Franklin's Anglo-Americanism was an important stage on his self-development to an American, Lovecraft is typically more problematic; he retained a lifelong Anglophilia, and, later, at same time he engaged with America politically. He never lost his Anglophilia, which helps explain his avid interest in the physical relics of colonial America. While he was an Anglophile, though, Lovecraft was an American, one that would slowly acclimatise to his times. Until then, the bulk of his work would remain largely irrelevant. This is not to say that it did not have its strengths. The basic strength in Lovecraft's work was its closeness to the same eighteenth century ideals. Lovecraft himself admitted this; he writes: "As the strength of Antaeus depended on his contact with Mother Earth, so does any possible merit in my verses depend on their execution in [the heroic couplet]".(HPL to Maurice W. Moe--8 December 1914, SL I.2 3) He says, elsewhere, of these same heroic couplets, that "This form is peculiarly the medium of pointed antithesis, and seems never brighter than in satire or epigram." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 28 March 1915, LK 15) Elsewhere, to Kleiner, he was written how he was absorbed by the Georgians; he writes: "My whole interest seems wrapped up in the eighteenth century--I preserve as much of its spirit as possible in the furnishing of my room, & always think of myself in breeches full-bottomed periwig." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 December 1917, LK 122) The point about the use of the heroic couplet in the epigram and satire reminds that Lovecraft was able, to some extent, to recognise the shortcomings of Georgian verse. He writes: "I am aware that my favourite Georgians lacked much in the true spirit of poesy--but I do admire their verse, as verse." (HPL to Alfred Galpin, 27 May [1918]; LG : 21) Here, he upholds the distinction of verse from poetry, and he relegates himself to being a versifier elsewhere in his writing. "I merely ignore taste," (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 27 November 1917, LK 121) he writes, and in doing so he condemns the bulk of his work to irrelevancy. Which is a pity: his mature work, especially his fiction and, to a far lesser extent, his poetry, reveals that he had the ability and talent to produce lasting, germane works of art. Such work remains living and vital, unlike his persona as a cultured man of leisure. The persona that Lovecraft developed was integral to the development of his aesthetic in this period, as it was to the other forms and expressions of his thought. He considered himself as a cultured man of leisure, a dilettante in the fields of the arts and the sciences. In doing so, he did not assume a professional stance towards his work: he remained the amateur, and his chief

remuneration was the pleasure that his work afforded both himself and others. As such, this stance was also derived from the eighteenth century. Note that I said "professional," rather than "serious." He was uniformly serious about his work, serious about its intent, and about its intended outcomes. Even his satirical work was approached seriously, even though the primary aim was to amuse rather than to instruct. In a way, he wanted to create lasting art; unfortunately, he largely failed. Lovecraft had some ability to see and, to some extent, exaggerate the weaknesses of himself that led to that failure. "Take the form away and nothing remains. I have no real poetic ability, and all that saves my verse from utter worthlessness is the care which I bestow on its metrical construction," (HPL to Maurice W. Moe--8 December 1914, SL I.2 3-4) he writes. Elsewhere, he says: "That I have nothing of actual poesy in my nature, I freely admit; and am convinced that only a childish, semi-barbaric fondness for rhythm started me upon my metrical career." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 47) Lovecraft saw himself in this period as, primarily, a poet, but he admits he is a failure as a poet: "I have often felt that I possess but a slight grasp of the poetic principle, & but a fragmentary appreciation of genuine poetry." (HPL to Alfred Galpin, 27 May [1918], LG 21) As a result, although he considered himself a poet, he more properly considered himself as less than a poet. Hence the infamous "Given something to say, a metrical mechanic like myself can easily hammer the matter into technically correct verse, substituting formal poetic diction for real inspiration of thought." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 14 September 1915, LK 20) This dismissive phrase, "metrical mechanic," succinctly conveys the artificiality and the woodenness of his worst verse. It is not poetry, it is not verse: it is merely versified. Elsewhere, he expresses himself succinctly: "my phrases and images come not from Parnassus but from Pope; I have revell'd not amidst 'Leaves of Grass', but amidst leaves of books." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 47) That is, his work is not derived from life but from other art. He has book-learning, but not enough native wit to leaven it sufficiently with enough life. He says, again, that "verse composition is not effort for me. That is why my verses are so bad," (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 December 1917, LK 122) but, in such passages, the power and musicality of the language subconsciously bely his protestations. He had the ability after all: he had only to find its appropriate media and forms of expression. Lovecraft created his own persona, though it was one ill-suited to the demands of his art. Although he failed in this regard, he nonetheless managed to create an aesthetic that has its moments, even if of dimness rather than of brilliance. What interests us, what should interest us, are the origins of his aesthetic thought. Where did such thought come from? Interestingly, the chief source for his aesthetic thought came after the eighteenth century. This was Poe, whose definition of poetry as "the rhythmical creation of beauty" (353) was intimately familiar to Lovecraft. Hence the emphasis upon both the seasonal and bucolic verse, as

expressions of an idealised beauty. Another important aspect, in addition to beauty, was the concept of unity, which Poe considered as "that vital requisite in all works of art" (347). Lovecraft discussed this in "Metrical Regularity": "one poem cannot but carry one definite message, and [] one metre [must] be selected and sustained." (CE 12) In regards the combination of both pleasure and beauty, there is the quotation of "The Philosophy of Composition" and "The Poetic Principle" in "The Despised Pastoral" (CE 22). Indeed, Lovecraft considered that "poetrys "concern for the dull or ugly aspects of life is slight indeed." (CE 22) In a letter, he admits that he is in some respects reticent compared to Poe: "In my ultimate definition of poetry, I presume I am not so far as you and Mr Poe. As you will see in a forthcoming article of mine, I subscribe to a great extent to the dicta of the Baltimore Bard." (HPL to Alfred Galpin, 27 May [1918]; LG : 21). It should be no surprise, then, to consider Poe's thoughts upon beauty. If I may quote a relevant passage: "That pleasure which is at once the most pure, the most elevating, and the most intense is derived, I maintain, from the contemplation of the beautiful." Given the importance of beauty for Lovecraft's aesthetic, it is no surprise that pleasure, too, would have a major part; this leads to a major part of my thesis. The chief purpose of writing was, for Lovecraft, the creation of pleasure. We find, for example, in "The Despised Pastoral" (CE 22) the idea that poetrys first purpose is pleasure and not truth. In a letter to Kleiner, Lovecraft notes: "Writing for my own pleasure, I care not how my readers may regard the result. If they relish it, well & good. If not, perusal is not compulsory!" (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 27 November 1917, LK 121) In the same letter, he notes: "when in a serious vein, I do not write for the modern public. They would not read my work even if I did--so I have the independence & advantages of obscure mediocrity." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 27 November 1917, LK 121) This emphasis upon pleasure was one aspect of his aesthetic thought that was to be retained lifelong; consider the later expressions about "elegant amusement," which we shall consider. He was, as Wilum H. Pugmire has pointed out to me in a letter, concerned with creating art, yes. But at this point, at this period in his aesthetic thought, such considerations were subsumed in the ideal creation of something both pleasurable and beautiful, as the expression of a gentleman of leisure. The creation of art was not the major ideal here, the creation of something pleasurable was. This is apparent in the choices of aesthetic outlets for Lovecraft. There are three main aesthetic outlets for Lovecraft in his Classical period. For the most part, the chief outlet was his poetry. Looking back over this period, Lovecraft notes how, for him, "Poetry ... meant merely the most effective way of asserting [his] archaic instincts. [He] could convey more actual archaism in [his] couplets than in any other avenue of equal brevity & simplicity." (Lovecraft to Rheinhart Kleiner, 7 March 1920, LK 183) That Lovecraft had some idea of what made for excellence in verse is supported by an excerpt from one of his letters; here, he notes the marks of good poetry: "the beauties of poetry lie ... in the richness of images, delicacy of

imagination, and keenness of perception,... independent of outward form or superficial brilliancy." (HPL to Maurice W. Moe--8 December 1914, SL I.2 4) However, as he notes elsewhere, "Impromptu verse, or 'poetry' to order, is easy only when approached in the coolly prosaic spirit." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 14 September 1915, LK 20) Of the period 1905 to 1920, Lovecraft wrote approximately two hundred poems. Aside from the period from 1905 to 1913, when he wrote just over ten poems, this comes to an average of approximately twenty poems a year, an average which he was to match only twice, in 1925 and 1929-1930 (the latter marked by the writing of the "Fungi from Yuggoth" sequence). The bulk of these poems are written in the style of the eighteenth century, though there are exceptions. The early weird verse dates from the latter part of this period, although much of the major poems (chiefly the "Fungi" cycle) had yet to be written. Clearly, his estimation of himself as a poet can clearly be supported solely by the bulk of poems produced, and not their overall quality. This leads to the second aesthetic outlet: fiction. Here, as with the origin of Lovecraft's aesthetic thought, the exemplar is Poe. He admits this freely: "When I write stories, Edgar Allan Poe is my model. I never choose normal subjects, and frequently deal with the supernatural." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 20 January 1916, LK 29) Compared to the poems, the stories show a similar progression. For the most part, they are minor works in his oeuvre, works that lead up to the mature expressions that we find after his New York sojourn. They are also, for the most part, avowedly fantastic stories, with an emphasis upon the supernatural. Some work, "Dagon" is one, whilst others fail--"The Temple" comes to mind most readily. There are some that eschew the supernaturalism in favour of a poeticism, what would mark Lovecraft's Dunsanian period. "The White Ship" is one such work, as is "The Cats of Ulthar", but these properly belong to the transitional period between the first and second aesthetic phases. They belong to both, that is, rather than to neither. This leads to the third and final outlet for Lovecraft's aesthetic thought, his non-fiction. To an extent, Lovecraft's non-fiction is an aesthetic outlet by virtue of being the products of an amateur, a gentleman of leisure. Much of it is not concerned with aesthetics. If we choose 1920 as an upper limit for this period, some one hundred and more articles (other than those which were purely scientific) were produced, largely in relation to the amateur press. Of the latter, scientific ones, a roughly equivalent amount was produced, but much of that preceded his involvement with the amateur press, and consists both of juvenailia and astronomy columns. Although the total amount of non-fiction exceeds the poetic output, it was produced over a longer period, and is of a more ephemeral interest to some extent. The non-fiction itself falls into a number of broadly definable areas. There is work concerned with amateur journalism, for example, and there is a small body of literary criticism. This latter area is the one most germane to the study of Lovecraft's aesthetics, of course. The bulk of

Lovecraft's philosophical pieces were produced in this period, though there is a handful of later pieces that may be considered. Finally, there is the vast bulk of the scientific articles. Of this area, a considerable amount is juvenailia, and only two pieces have been identified which postdate the close of the first aesthetic period (these are "The Cancer of Superstition", and "[Some Backgrounds of Fairyland]; "Scientific Articles"). These, then, are the chief outlets for Lovecraft's aesthetic impulse. Although they are by no means all concerned with aesthetics, they are all expressions of the desire to create art and to create pleasure, for himself and for others. What matters now is to look at some aspects of the subject of aesthetic thought, notable both art and beauty, before considering Lovecraft's reactions to contemporary art. As will be seen, some of this will run counter to the second period, the Decadent phase of Lovecraft's aesthetic thought. This, however, will not be dealt with in length here. Where it is important is in the relation of art to nature. Art, for Lovecraft, was linked to nature, and to the natural world. As such, it was intricately bound by natural laws. Consider "Metrical Regularity"; here, he writes: "However much true poesy may overtop the produce of the brain, it must still be affected by natural laws, which are universal and inevitable." (11) Lovecraft essentially argues in this essay that metricality is both universal in application and natural. In a sense, then, it was the aesthetician's role to discover and to communicate, rather than to formulate, the laws that control art. Lovecraft, here, feels that he has done so, despite the degree to which he universalises the specifics of English prosody. Lovecraft's pronouncements upon art are similarly universalised where they address issues wider than his own work. This is a tendency that we see also with his statements upon beauty, and its relation to truth. Beauty has a relation to truth, whether as an abstract or concrete principle: it is part of the purview of aesthetics that such a relation be explored. Lovecraft addresses this, but not in detail, not at length. It is a topic that occurred as a result of correspondence with Alfred Galpin; that we lack Galpin's letters limits our understanding of the passage's context. Lovecraft writes, in this passage: that "Beauty is certainly the prime object; Truth is to be considered only when coincident with Beauty--which is not so often as the late J. Keats believed." (HPL to Alfred Galpin, 27 May [1918]; LG : 21) This relegation of truth as something to be considered only when consonant with beauty strikes me as typical of Lovecraft, at this stage. Indeed, it applies also to the Decadent phase, however, that phase differs as to what Lovecraft found beautiful. In a sense, Lovecraft has to come face to face with the unpleasant realities of his life: the need to work, the need to live in a modern age, and the need to deal with the heterogeneous aspects of his contemporary society. To an extent, he succeeded in most of these areas. This leads to Lovecraft's reactions to contemporary art. To an extent, poetry, as the main medium for Lovecraft's expression, is reflected as the main focus for his aesthetic thought. Most of Lovecraft's aesthetic pronouncements deal with poetry. This is a given, due to his self-definition as

a poet, of course. And such is reflected in one of his shorter pronouncements: "Lack of appreciation of verse can be attributed to nothing save defective aesthetic perception." ("Poesy" CE 21) One major aspect of this contemporary art was, of course, free verse. One form of this was Imagism; of it, he writes, "As a species of pathological phenomena it is interesting." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41). He also called it "nonsense" in the same letter. (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41) Lovecraft was dismissive of this form of poetry. He writes, after all: "Since 'Imagism' has no relation at all to poesy, I think no lover of the Muse need entertain apprehension for his art from this quarter." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41) It contains, Lovecraft writes, "absolutely no artistic principle," and, further, "ugliness replaces beauty, and chaos supplies the vacant chair of sense. Some of the stuff, though, would mean something if neatly arranged and read as prose." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41) Of course, we must remember the importance of beauty for his own verse. And, further, note elsewhere how conservatism is equated with good taste, leaving unstated the formula that radicalism is equivalent to bad taste ("Metrical Regularity" 12). In fact, Lovecraft felt that free verse was symptomatic of an overall decline in cultural standards. It is neither flesh nor fowl, neither verse nor prose, and, from both, it absorbs "the vices of both and the virtues of neither." ("Metrical Regularity" 12) Its exponents, moreover, are radicals ("Metrical Regularity" 11), which reminds us that Lovecraft writes elsewhere of "The rational contemporary disciple of the Nine, justly ignoring the dissonant shrieks of the radicals." (The Allowable Rhyme" 13) In a letter, Lovecraft writes that free verse "seems the recognised avenue of expression for persons who cannot think clearly, or who are afflicted with concomitant symptoms of radicalism and imbecility in other forms," and he goes on to say, in the same letter, "That the vers librists are preminently coarse in their ideas, is what one might expect as a result of their radical tendencies." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 44) This is one example of his rhetoric: equating vers librists with radicals, Lovecraft can dismiss their work and themselves with suitable epithets. Hence the picturesque: "Wherever radical thought spreads its stench, there may be found the greatest numbers of vers librists, hovering like maggots about the carcass of decayed reason." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 45) Note the language used: "stench," "maggots," "carcass," and "decayed reason." This is the language of emotion, not reason, and free verse was the provoker of such language. Yet, Lovecraft professed that free verse "is the product of hopelessly decayed taste, and arouses a feeling of sympathetic sadness, rather than of mere contempt." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41) But such is, after all, a backhanded insult. He says, after all, that "their work indicates that most of them are dangerously near the asylum gates--uncomfortably close to the padded cell." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 23 August 1916, LK 41)

Lovecraft continues to lambast modern poets in later letters. He writes, again to Kleiner: "Of the various pretenders to learning that infest this unsettled and degenerate age, no sort is at once so absurd and so disgusting as the tribe of Pindarick little-wits who mask their gross thoughts and want of taste under the veil of pretended genius; and who denominate their irregular productions vers libre, after the French fashion." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 42-3) Here, he combines a number of themes that we have seen already. There is the reference to degeneration, that we saw in "The Case for Classicism". There is the reference to metrical regularity, in the references to "Pindarick little-wits" and "irregular productions," and there is the overall tone taken against his contemporaries. Lovecraft judges them, and finds them wanting. The same letter calls free verse a "type of literary monstrosity." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) Lovecraft writes, also that "Not only is such rubbish frequently to be seen in the supposedly poetical column, but 'tis reviewed and commented upon elsewhere to a much greater extent than its insignificance merits." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) Note the language used in this letter. This is pure rhetoric; there is no attempt to reason, or to construct a reasoned argument. We are left with the impression that Lovecraft's reaction to free verse was not due to any inherent tendency, but due to the simple fact that he did not like it. His taste, in this instance, has failed him. Lovecraft's attacks on free verse were not just limited to his letters. They crop up elsewhere: "Of the various forms of decadence manifest in the poetical art of the present age," for example, opens "Metrical Regularity" (11) In "Metrical Regularity", Lovecraft argues that the abandonment of all metrical regularity means, in principle, that a work remains unpoetic. Here, he considers meter to be "an essential art of all true poetry," (11) a cornerstone, that is, of poetic ability. Yet he employs rhetoric here, rather than logical argument, to construct a seeming naturalness of metric precision; it is "a logical evolution from eminently natural sources," (11) that is, rather than a feature, often arbitrary of a given language or languages. For instance, he does not discuss the nature of meter in English verse as a system of stress-based patterns, as opposed to the time-based patterns of Classical languages, and he shows no understanding of other languages' systems, either. The language that Lovecraft uses is interesting: "radical" (11, 12), "ignorance" (12), "perverted taste" (12), "wild-eyed, longhaired" (12), "uncouth and ill-fitting dress" (12), "artless crudities and [] cultivated monstrosities" (12), "churlish, cacophanous [] amorphous outcries." (12) This is emotion, not reason, and it shows the weaknesses of Lovecraft's rhetoric. He does not demonstrate the validity of his arguments, but, rather, prefers to employ a rhetoric of sarcasm and invective. This is not the only occasion that Lovecraft has to discuss metrical irregularity. In one of the

letters quoted from earlier, Lovecraft recites at a potted history of irregular meter from the seventeenth century. Again, note the language used: it is emotive, designed to stir, to inflame, but not to rationally persuade. He speaks of "the whole family of metrical contortionists," (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) for example, and of the "boorish roughness ... of the peasant Whitman" who "used his licence merely to display a swinish and fallacious philosophy of his own making." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) That Lovecraft was no admirer of Whitman is evident from the "Fragment on Whitman". Here, the language is appropriate to the satiric medium, and I will have occasion to quote the poem later. The next item worth considering is "The State of Poetry". In this satiric verse, modern poetry is directly compared to a "sterile garden," (AT 215, line 5) and it is also called "Boeotian", uncultured (line 6). Note, too, the same usage of "Boeotian" in Ad Criticos: Liber Secundus: "Still louder bawl the bold Boeotian band." (AT 194, line 1) Lovecraft then proceeds to name classes of poets, and to note their defects. Thus we find Raucus (raucous), who writes "witless ballads" which are "sickly", and in which he forgets his meter (AT 215, lines 12-3). There is Agrestis (rural), whose lines are "lame in their poetic feet" and fail to rhyme properly (AT 215, line 18). Durus (hard) mispronounces( lines 23-30); Hodiernus (contemporary) proclaims the wrong poets as the best (lines 31-6); and Mundanus (worldly) has a "sordid mind / [and] Dwells on our joys and ills of meaner kind." (AT 216, lines 47-8) Further, those who imitate Whitman are "degenrate swine." (AT 216, line 41) He notes, also, how "Form is an error, elegance a crime, / To him who courts the plaudits of the time," (AT 216, lines 37-8) an statement against the seeming formless of vers libre, and against the seeming mundanity of much modern art. Of the latter such accusation, as Slessor says in his poem "William Street", "You find this ugly, I find it lovely." (117, lines 4 & 8) Lovecraft even asks: "Can Art survive in a degraded age / When none but boors and cynics hold the stage?" (AT 216, lines 63-4) Such questions are still being asked. With "The Vers Libre Epidemic", note the use of "epidemic" in the title, with its notions of both weakness and illness. The opening sentence is also of interest. Modern verse is equated with the lack of "shape, wit, or artistic beauty" (CE 19); and it causes "no little alarm" among "true friends of verse." (CE 19) Further, poetry has "entered upon a definite phase of decadence." (CE 19) Such sentiments have been seen before, of course. Lovecraft sanguinely argues that "the better sort of bards" will not stray too far from poetic orthodoxy, and that they "will soon be writing real verse by accident, in spite of themselves." (CE 19) Again, as with other occasions, the language is important for the argument. He speaks of "a motley horde of hysterical and half-witted rhapsodists," for example, and also speaks of "psychopathic phenomena", "meaningless phrases", and "inspirational (or epileptic) seizure." (CE 20) What unites the various schools of modern poetry are their "utter want of a sense of proportion or proportionate values." (CE 20) Further, the poets' impressions are "abnormal," they are beyond poetry, and what they produce is inherently incapable

of being considered it: it is not poetic, but "intellectual and aesthetic decadence of which vers libre is only one manifestation." (CE 20) "Amissa Minerva", the next item, is again satiric verse. Here, the modern poets form an "antic train / That swarm uncheckd and gibber." (AT 236, lines 53-4) Again, note the language used: Lovecraft's contemporaries "cloud" the skies with "foetid vapours" (AT 236, line 56), and it continues: led by transient madness, [they] rend the air With shrieks of bliss and whinings of despair. Exempt from wit, each dullard pours his ink In odes to bathtubs, or the kitchen sink; Bent on effect, they search their souls for themes, And spout disease, or colic-troubled dreams.(AT , lines 57-62) In the end, all they can produce is "Unmeaning nonsense and abhorrent cant;" (AT , line 68) here, as with his other satires, Lovecraft disperses the gloomy failures of his Georgian verse. It works, it is successful, and it shows one of the areas in which Lovecraft was later to excel: satire itself. Whitman has been mentioned twice already, and his reception by Lovecraft is interesting. For example, in the letter quoted earlier, he discusses Whitman at some length. He says, for example, "That Walt Whitman was a degenerate mentally and pathologically, I think no scientist would deny." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) Note especially the appeal to the impartiality of a scientific outlook, an appeal which helps boost his appeal to emotion. Elsewhere, in the same letter, Lovecraft remarks that Whitman's "fancy was not that of the man, but of the ape," and that "His coarseness is ... the fiendishly analytical degradation of an Elagabalus." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) He dehumanises Whitman, and calls him a "creature." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) Note the quality of the emotive language: "painful egotism", "constant posing", "ravings", "barbaric chanting", "his native cesspool," and "shriekings." (HPL to Kleicomolo, October 1916, LK 43) This leads to the final item of consideration, the poem "Fragment on Whitman". The poem itself is worth quotation at length, but such is not necessary. Lovecraft speaks of Whitman's "licentious line," (AT 192, line 1) which "Delights the rake, and warms the souls of swine." He speaks elsewhere how Whitman "copies Ovid's filth without his grace," (AT 193, line 4) and how, "void of shame, he let his wit run wild, / And liv'd and wrote as Adam's bestial child." (lines 7-8) The language is, again, emotive, yet effective for the satire. Lovecraft speaks of "fever'd fancy," (AT 193, line 3) "brute," (line 6) "Averse to culture, strange to humankind," (line 9) "sordid" and "mean," (line 12) "gross thoughts," (line 13) "want of decency," (line 15) "beast," (line 16) and, finally, "foul corruption." (l.ine 18) This is an understandable

reaction to the poetry of Whitman, this invective, of course. And, of course, the frenzied contemporaneousness of his fellows is manifestly opposed to Lovecraft's own classicism. Hence his: "One loud and conspicuous faction of bards, giving way to the corrupt influences of a decaying general culture, seems to have abandoned all the properties of versification and reason in its mad scramble after sensational novelty." ("The Allowable Rhyme" CE 13) And it is also seen in his quotation of William Herbert Perry Faunce, when he says "most of us are 'too desperately contemporary'." ("The Case for Classicism" CE 37) In regards that latter remark, Lovecraft notes how "Translation of our thoughts into the clear-cut, rational phrases of classicism might help to reveal the flimsy fatuity of most of the innovations we so blindly worship." ("The Case for Classicism" CE 38) But, of course, modernism was not only form of poetry opposed. Lovecraft opposed poetasters of all kinds. As he says, "there is another type of 'poet' which is amusing, even though the very antithesis of this class." (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 31 July 1915, LK 17) He says, of one example, Rev. Robert L. Selle, that he has "the poetic technique of a child of seven, & the style of a narrow old Puritan," (HPL to Rheinhart Kleiner, 31 July 1915, LK 17) for example. Lovecraft did not just have a monomania against free verse; he despised all forms of failure in poetry, given the emphasis that it had in his self-opinion: he was, after all, not only a poet and gentleman of leisure, he was a rare (if not lone) bulwark against the decadence of his contemporary age. Which makes the change towards a period of "Decadence" all the more striking. I am in concord with Joshi where he argues that the division between the two periods of Lovecraft's aesthetic thought should date more properly from 1921 or 1922 (Decline 46) than from 1919. The latter date is attractive, true, marking both the transition away from the Great War, and marked by the influenza epidemic. Yet this period also sees the rapid decline in quantity of Lovecrafts verse, which dates from 1921, not 1922 as Joshi argues elsewhere. Further, the divisions between the two phases are not absolute, not precise. The change towards second period of aesthetic relatively long, and was predicated upon a number of factors. It arises in part from the dissatisfaction that Lovecraft felt with his own verse. In 1920, he wrote to Rheinhart Kleiner, saying: "When I come to review mine own excursions into the province of the Muse, I am conscious that my attitude was never that of the true poet." (Lovecraft to Rheinhart Kleiner, 7 March 1920, LK 183) In the following year, he was saying that his "imperfect productions speak louder than a charitable conductors praise!" ("In Defence of Dagon" MW 151) There was also the influence of a new correspondent, Frank Belknap Long, who was to expose Lovecraft to new patterns and currents of aesthetic thought. Further, there was a real need to escape the past, and to live in the present: Lovecraft was facing pressures to dwell in the real world, away from his sheltered childhood, and this intermediate period was to prove transitional, provisional. Then, finally, there is the corresponding shift in importance away from poetry towards fiction.

Lovecraft was becoming the artist, the author, that so many of us admire. He was still to write poetry, but to a far lesser extent than before, gradually abandoning the Georgians as his primary models. The major aesthetic document of this period is "In Defence of Dagon". It is not only concerned with his tale "Dagon", it is a major text in his definition of three schools of literature: the romantic tale, the realistic tale and the imaginative tale. Since it shares features of both his Classical and Decadent periods, but mainly the latter, it deserves its fullest examination in the next chapter, where the Decadent phase of Lovecraft's aesthetic will be explored.