Though prolific American writer Robert William Chambers (1865-1933) was well-known and successful in his own time, what recognition he has today is strictly in certain “weird fiction” fan circles, and almost entirely for five stories contained in his 1895 collection The King in Yellow, which significantly influenced H. P. Lovecraft. (The other pieces in that book had no connection to any speculative or “weird” fiction genre.) I originally confused this collection with that one. However, this one reproduces those five stories, plus seven more selected by editor Bleiler from other Chambers collections published between 1896 and 1904. Dover Press, the publisher here, is noted for its quality reprints of worthwhile or culturally important older works; E. F. Bleiler was practically his generation's sole source of serious critical analysis of supernatural and weird fiction, since much of the academic community shuns it. (Tellingly, he spent his professional life in the publishing industry rather than in the halls of academe.') The short (a bit over six pages, considered as actual text rather than including the white space) Introduction is worth reading, but as an afterword, since the comments on a couple of stories are spoilerish.
To my surprise, one of my first discoveries here is that there is no actual Chambers story titled “The King in Yellow.” Rather, that's supposedly the title of a fictional book, the script text for a play, reading the second act of which supposedly drives the reader insane. Adumbrated particularly in the story “The Yellow Sign,” it's also referred to in two other tales, “The Repairer of Reputations” and “In the Court of the Dragon,” though these don't add a lot of detail. (There's also a passing reference to the narrator reading briefly in a copy of the book and “putting it away with a shudder” in “The Mask,” which I'd read earlier this year in an anthology; but it has so little significance in that story that I'd forgotten it even appeared there.) Also to my surprise, an earlier story by Ambrose Bierce (a significant influence on Chambers, at least in the stories here), “Inhabitant of Carcosa,” which I have not read, in Bleiler's words furnished “a mythology within which Chambers worked” for these stories. (“Carcosa” appears as a place name in two of them.) The entire “King in Yellow Mythos” (if there can really be said to be such a thing!) is built on this slender foundation, since Chambers never wrote about it again.
However, his treatment of the mythology is very vague. The King's domain is apparently another planet, since it has two moons; but we're told little else about it that's substantive. It's inferred by some that the fact that reading the second act of the play drives people mad must mean that it reveals the “truth” that the universe is a horrible, meaningless place hostile to humans; but that's not a necessary inference, and appears to me to be mostly read back into the stories because of the Lovecraft connection. And what Lovecraft derived from these tales seems to me to be primarily the idea of extra-planetary influence on this world, and of a forbidden book that can drive people mad (think, The Necronomicon!), rather than a theme of “cosmic horror” as such. Chambers' handling of the idea also seems inconsistent. In “The Yellow Sign,” the King is very clearly a real malevolent entity able to wreak harmful behavior here on Earth; but in the other two stories in the 1895 collection that refer to the supposed mythos in a big way, we seem to really be in the realm of mere delusions in the mind of a mad unreliable narrator, a trope which Chambers obviously liked (and uses elsewhere in this book, too), but which I decidedly do not. (Usually, I think it's a gyp for the reader; Irving, Poe and Bierce can use it successfully at times, but they handle it better than Chambers does.) There's also the problem that, although “The Yellow Sign” is great at evoking an atmosphere of brooding horror and menace (and Chambers was undeniably good at that, when he wanted to be!), it fails to make real sense even in its own internal logic. That greatly undermines the reader's (or, at least, this reader's) ability to suspend disbelief and engage with the story. Both Bleiler and modern speculative fiction author Brian Stableford (who did the write-up on Chambers in The St. James Guide to Horror, Ghost and Gothic Writers from St. James Press, a solid reference source I can recommend overall) see enduring significance in this scant corpus, and consider these tales to be almost the sole worthwhile material the author ever wrote. Personally, I found them overrated and underwhelming. :-( Readers should also be warned that “The Repairer of Reputations” has a scene in which a human character kills a cat (though it's an extremely vicious cat, and there's no graphic description). That story is also set in 1920, 25 years into the author's future; the whole long set-up, describing the (improbable) socio-political developments in the interim, did nothing for me, and had no organic relation to the story.
Nonetheless, I really liked “The Mask” and, overall, “The Demoiselle d'Ys,” (both of which Stableford also appreciated), although I felt that the latter's ending does have a serious logical hole. Some stories here are clearly science fiction and some clearly supernatural; the former tale is one with what initially seems to be a science-fiction premise that's ultimately revealed to be supernatural, but I'll refrain from sharing any spoilers! It's also one of five here (or nearly half) set in France, where Chambers studied art as a young man. (Several of his protagonists are visual artists.) “The Demoiselle d'Ys” is one of two stories specifically set in Brittany, a region of which the author seems particularly fond. His descriptions of the beauty of the natural world in that and other stories show him to be someone who genuinely loved the great outdoors, and he evokes it with the grandeur and glory of a poet. (Yes, he did write some poetry.) He also wrote a considerable amount of historical fiction, and that shows in this story with his knowledge of falconry and of its Old French terminology.
Bleiler fleshed out the collection with stories he considered the best of Chamber's other speculative fiction output (the great majority of his work was descriptive fiction!) though he clearly considered this to be the “best” in the sense of least bad out of slim pickings. My own view of this material isn't quite as jaundiced; “The Messenger” (the other Breton-set story) is one of my favorites here, and ties with “The Mask” as the best-constructed selection. (Those are the only two here that don't present any internal logical difficulties, or at least challenges.) And although “A Pleasant Evening” does seem to present logical paradoxes, you can suspend disbelief in them, as things which could happen in the context of the kind of supernatural reality the protagonist is encountering. But neither “The Maker of Moons” or “The Key to Grief” worked particularly well for me. Among other factors, the former story plays into “yellow peril” fears and stereotypes, with its supposed secret society of millions of cultish fanatics from the “gigantic hell-pit” of China's allegedly unknown interior, and features another of Chamber's favorite tropes that I also dislike, ridiculously instant insta-love. “The Key to Grief” is one of three stories here set in the vast wilderness of northern Canada; but I can't find any evidence that the author ever visited that area himself. (This story in particular makes much apparent use of Native American language and lore, but I'm not sure how genuine any of it is.)
The last three stories, “The Harbor Master,” “In Quest of the Dingue,” and “Is the Ux Extinct?” are all taken from the 1904 humorous SF collection In Search of the Unknown, every selection in which has the same narrator, a Bronx zoo employee who has various adventures (and romantic misadventures) searching for various extinct animals, real or invented by the author. (He's never named, yet another device I don't like; but that's just me.) Here, the humorous intent renders the horror factor about nil; “The Harbor Master” could be called mild cryptid horror, but that's about it. Various inaccuracies appear in these tales, along with the spurious Darwin and Alfred Russell Wallace quotes: the Hudson Mountains, for instance, are in Antarctica rather than Labrador, and there was no “King of Finland” --the Finland of that day was not an independent nation, but part of the Russian Empire. (But the then Prince of Monaco really was known to be quite interested in the life sciences!)
Since my ratings for the individual stories would span Goodreads' star spectrum, three is an overall average; and I'm glad to have finally read the King in Yellow stories so as to know what (little!) the hype is about. But I'm not really interested in seeking out any more of Chamber's work.