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The Great God Pan and Other Horror Stories
Perhaps no figure better embodies the transition from the Gothic tradition to modern horror than Arthur Machen. In the final decade of the nineteenth century, the Welsh writer produced a seminal body of tales of occult horror, spiritual and physical corruption, and malignant survivals from the primeval past which horrified and scandalised-late-Victorian readers. Machen's "weird fiction" has influenced generations of storytellers, from H.P. Lovecraft to Guillermo Del Toro—and it remains no less unsettling today.
This new collection, which includes the complete novel The Three Impostors as well as such celebrated tales as The Great God Pan and The White People, constitutes the most comprehensive critical edition of Machen yet to appear. In addition to the core late-Victorian horror classics, a selection of lesser-known prose poems and later tales helps to present a fuller picture of the development of Machen's weird vision. The edition's introduction and notes contextualise the life and work of this foundational figure in the history of horror.
This new collection, which includes the complete novel The Three Impostors as well as such celebrated tales as The Great God Pan and The White People, constitutes the most comprehensive critical edition of Machen yet to appear. In addition to the core late-Victorian horror classics, a selection of lesser-known prose poems and later tales helps to present a fuller picture of the development of Machen's weird vision. The edition's introduction and notes contextualise the life and work of this foundational figure in the history of horror.
389 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 2020
About the author
Arthur Machen
1,112 books1,053 followersArthur Machen was a leading Welsh author of the 1890s. He is best known for his influential supernatural, fantasy, and horror fiction. His long story The Great God Pan made him famous and controversial in his lifetime, but The Hill of Dreams is generally considered his masterpiece. He also is well known for his leading role in creating the legend of the Angels of Mons.
At the age of eleven, Machen boarded at Hereford Cathedral School, where he received an excellent classical education. Family poverty ruled out attendance at university, and Machen was sent to London, where he sat exams to attend medical school but failed to get in. Machen, however, showed literary promise, publishing in 1881 a long poem "Eleusinia" on the subject of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Returning to London, he lived in relative poverty, attempting to work as a journalist, as a publisher's clerk, and as a children's tutor while writing in the evening and going on long rambling walks across London.
In 1884 he published his second work, the pastiche The Anatomy of Tobacco, and secured work with the publisher and bookseller George Redway as a cataloguer and magazine editor. This led to further work as a translator from French, translating the Heptameron of Marguerite de Navarre, Le Moyen de Parvenir (Fantastic Tales) of Béroalde de Verville, and the Memoirs of Casanova. Machen's translations in a spirited English style became standard ones for many years.
Around 1890 Machen began to publish in literary magazines, writing stories influenced by the works of Robert Louis Stevenson, some of which used gothic or fantastic themes. This led to his first major success, The Great God Pan. It was published in 1894 by John Lane in the noted Keynotes Series, which was part of the growing aesthetic movement of the time. Machen's story was widely denounced for its sexual and horrific content and subsequently sold well, going into a second edition.
Machen next produced The Three Impostors, a novel composed of a number of interwoven tales, in 1895. The novel and the stories within it were eventually to be regarded as among Machen's best works. However, following the scandal surrounding Oscar Wilde later that year, Machen's association with works of decadent horror made it difficult for him to find a publisher for new works. Thus, though he would write some of his greatest works over the next few years, some were published much later. These included The Hill of Dreams, Hieroglyphics, A Fragment of Life, the story The White People, and the stories which make up Ornaments in Jade.
At the age of eleven, Machen boarded at Hereford Cathedral School, where he received an excellent classical education. Family poverty ruled out attendance at university, and Machen was sent to London, where he sat exams to attend medical school but failed to get in. Machen, however, showed literary promise, publishing in 1881 a long poem "Eleusinia" on the subject of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Returning to London, he lived in relative poverty, attempting to work as a journalist, as a publisher's clerk, and as a children's tutor while writing in the evening and going on long rambling walks across London.
In 1884 he published his second work, the pastiche The Anatomy of Tobacco, and secured work with the publisher and bookseller George Redway as a cataloguer and magazine editor. This led to further work as a translator from French, translating the Heptameron of Marguerite de Navarre, Le Moyen de Parvenir (Fantastic Tales) of Béroalde de Verville, and the Memoirs of Casanova. Machen's translations in a spirited English style became standard ones for many years.
Around 1890 Machen began to publish in literary magazines, writing stories influenced by the works of Robert Louis Stevenson, some of which used gothic or fantastic themes. This led to his first major success, The Great God Pan. It was published in 1894 by John Lane in the noted Keynotes Series, which was part of the growing aesthetic movement of the time. Machen's story was widely denounced for its sexual and horrific content and subsequently sold well, going into a second edition.
Machen next produced The Three Impostors, a novel composed of a number of interwoven tales, in 1895. The novel and the stories within it were eventually to be regarded as among Machen's best works. However, following the scandal surrounding Oscar Wilde later that year, Machen's association with works of decadent horror made it difficult for him to find a publisher for new works. Thus, though he would write some of his greatest works over the next few years, some were published much later. These included The Hill of Dreams, Hieroglyphics, A Fragment of Life, the story The White People, and the stories which make up Ornaments in Jade.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 312 reviews
May 17, 2022
Helen Vaughan did nothing wrong. She was literally just vibing hard.
November 8, 2019
I had previously read two stories (novellas, really) in this volume: "The Great God Pan" and "The White People". I liked those stores and was excited to re-read them. And Machen's reputation among horror aficionados whose opinions I appreciate and respect, especially those who favor a more literary style (as I do), gave me confidence that I might enjoy the remaining stories. I seem to recall that Lovecraft lauded Machen's work, as did Stephen King. Those were good indicators from two pretty good writers, as well.
But as I read The Great God Pan and Other Horror Stories, an unanticipated question kept percolating up in my thoughts: When you say "Machen is a great writer," who do you mean? Yes, "Arthur Machen" is the obvious answer. But which one? Which Machen are you referring to? The Arthur Conan Doyle-like page turner of “The Red Hand” (which I wanted to keep calling "The Red Right Hand" - thank you very much, Nick Cave), the writer of “The Monstrance” with powerful echos of M.R. James, the Charles Dickensanian “The Tree of Life,” or the Dunsanian visions of “N”?
Machen is all of these, but with something more, something unique – a subtlety of hand and a careful movement of plot, sweetly lead by his studied use and manipulation of Word and Phrase. I capitalize these, because in Machen’s hands, these elements, these tools, are elevated beyond the banal usage of the terms. They become something special and “new” under his pen (though when one reads his strange mutation of certain terms, one is compelled to say “of course, why did I ever think of this word/phrase in any other way? In any case, I shall never think of it in the same way again!”
For instance, there is this from "The Three Imposters":
". . . I too burned with the lust of the chase, not pausing to consider that I knew not what we were to unshadow."
This is the sort of turn-of-phrase that I love in Machen. And that word: "unshadow," so evocative and full of implication. Given the context of a Russian-doll series of narratives within narratives, the term is especially apropos and lends a certain gravity to the meta-narrative from within the narrative - the meta-narrative "in the shadows" beyond the reader and the explicit words on the page. With one word, Machen pushes us out into the unknown; a sort of literary practical joke aimed at the careful reader.
And these stories do deserve a careful reading. They are not shocking in that Lovecraftian "the entire universe wants to eat us all, oh no, my poor sanity!" way. They are most definitely not the antinatalist murky depths of Thomas Ligotti (though there is a good deal of existentialism throughout these works). They are much more subtle. More careful and deliberate.
But that does not mean they are "straightforward". Far from it! I believe that "The Great God Pan" benefits from what seems like disorganization of thought. Vagaries and jagged connection points lead the reader on a frenetic, dreadful path, allowing each individual to come to their own conclusions, their own "end plot". "The Three Imposters" is mind-blowingly complex. Wheels within wheels, all shot through with decadence and hauntings and rotting bodies and tentacles. It works not because Machen ties off all the ends in a neat little bundle (he does not), but because the readers mind takes the disparate directions and waypoints and makes its own blurred map of what might have happened in the tale. I loved "The White People," but to tell you what it was "about"? Um. No. It's essentially plotless, a labyrinthine meandering through the eyes of a young girl discovering . . . well, she can't tell you all that she's discovered. It's simply not possible. Machen does a wonderful job of using inference and redaction to tease the reader with an intentionally occulted (I use the word exactly) vision of what lies beyond, accessible, but hidden.
You will exit many of these stories in a state of utter confusion, wondering what just hit your brain. But you will feel the impact of something sinister hiding in the veins of the earth or just beyond that hill ahead or in the complex motivations of the seemingly innocent. These stories are insidious!
Even in stories where there is a "traditional" twist ending, there is something in the subtle way that Machen lays his tales out that allows for a "twist" ending that isn't a cheap-shot, like I find in many short stories (especially those written by less-experienced authors). "Ritual," for example, is no exception. It's microfiction, or close to it, so it relies on a twist at the end, but by the time you get there, you're like a frog that's been slowly brought to boil in horror. Your realization comes too late! And even after the twist is revealed, your brain will continue tumbling forward, making suppositions and venturing guesses as to what really happened.
This is what Machen provides, then: a labyrinthine path to uncertainty and, hence, insecurity, where the only thing you are sure of is that you can't trust anything to be what it seems. There is darkness, horror, wonder, and awe, all combined, in this realization; a case study in Schopenhauer's philosophy of Aesthetics and The Sublime. It is a journey worth your while, all the way to the bitter, beautiful end.
But as I read The Great God Pan and Other Horror Stories, an unanticipated question kept percolating up in my thoughts: When you say "Machen is a great writer," who do you mean? Yes, "Arthur Machen" is the obvious answer. But which one? Which Machen are you referring to? The Arthur Conan Doyle-like page turner of “The Red Hand” (which I wanted to keep calling "The Red Right Hand" - thank you very much, Nick Cave), the writer of “The Monstrance” with powerful echos of M.R. James, the Charles Dickensanian “The Tree of Life,” or the Dunsanian visions of “N”?
Machen is all of these, but with something more, something unique – a subtlety of hand and a careful movement of plot, sweetly lead by his studied use and manipulation of Word and Phrase. I capitalize these, because in Machen’s hands, these elements, these tools, are elevated beyond the banal usage of the terms. They become something special and “new” under his pen (though when one reads his strange mutation of certain terms, one is compelled to say “of course, why did I ever think of this word/phrase in any other way? In any case, I shall never think of it in the same way again!”
For instance, there is this from "The Three Imposters":
". . . I too burned with the lust of the chase, not pausing to consider that I knew not what we were to unshadow."
This is the sort of turn-of-phrase that I love in Machen. And that word: "unshadow," so evocative and full of implication. Given the context of a Russian-doll series of narratives within narratives, the term is especially apropos and lends a certain gravity to the meta-narrative from within the narrative - the meta-narrative "in the shadows" beyond the reader and the explicit words on the page. With one word, Machen pushes us out into the unknown; a sort of literary practical joke aimed at the careful reader.
And these stories do deserve a careful reading. They are not shocking in that Lovecraftian "the entire universe wants to eat us all, oh no, my poor sanity!" way. They are most definitely not the antinatalist murky depths of Thomas Ligotti (though there is a good deal of existentialism throughout these works). They are much more subtle. More careful and deliberate.
But that does not mean they are "straightforward". Far from it! I believe that "The Great God Pan" benefits from what seems like disorganization of thought. Vagaries and jagged connection points lead the reader on a frenetic, dreadful path, allowing each individual to come to their own conclusions, their own "end plot". "The Three Imposters" is mind-blowingly complex. Wheels within wheels, all shot through with decadence and hauntings and rotting bodies and tentacles. It works not because Machen ties off all the ends in a neat little bundle (he does not), but because the readers mind takes the disparate directions and waypoints and makes its own blurred map of what might have happened in the tale. I loved "The White People," but to tell you what it was "about"? Um. No. It's essentially plotless, a labyrinthine meandering through the eyes of a young girl discovering . . . well, she can't tell you all that she's discovered. It's simply not possible. Machen does a wonderful job of using inference and redaction to tease the reader with an intentionally occulted (I use the word exactly) vision of what lies beyond, accessible, but hidden.
You will exit many of these stories in a state of utter confusion, wondering what just hit your brain. But you will feel the impact of something sinister hiding in the veins of the earth or just beyond that hill ahead or in the complex motivations of the seemingly innocent. These stories are insidious!
Even in stories where there is a "traditional" twist ending, there is something in the subtle way that Machen lays his tales out that allows for a "twist" ending that isn't a cheap-shot, like I find in many short stories (especially those written by less-experienced authors). "Ritual," for example, is no exception. It's microfiction, or close to it, so it relies on a twist at the end, but by the time you get there, you're like a frog that's been slowly brought to boil in horror. Your realization comes too late! And even after the twist is revealed, your brain will continue tumbling forward, making suppositions and venturing guesses as to what really happened.
This is what Machen provides, then: a labyrinthine path to uncertainty and, hence, insecurity, where the only thing you are sure of is that you can't trust anything to be what it seems. There is darkness, horror, wonder, and awe, all combined, in this realization; a case study in Schopenhauer's philosophy of Aesthetics and The Sublime. It is a journey worth your while, all the way to the bitter, beautiful end.
December 31, 2022
Although Machen is often forgotten among casual horror fans, he was wildly influential to the giants of the industry: H. P. Lovecraft, Stephen King, Clive Barker, Guillermo del Toro, among many others. Machen's most noted work was written in the 1890s and his stories of spiritual corruption by ancient evil - often associated with and influenced, at least somewhat, by the English Decadent Movement - were considered outrageous compared with the social conventions of the Victorian Era. Machen's prose style, while ornate in luxurious description but short on characterization, is more easily penetrable than many other works of the period, lending itself well to the general feeling of unease, dread, and dislocation that makes the pieces so memorable.
This Oxford University Press collection, with an exceptional 21 page introduction and 38 pages of explanatory notes, includes the stories:
The Lost Club - 3/5
The Great God Pan - 4/5
The Inmost Light - 3/5
The Three Impostors - 4/5 (the complete novel is included)
The Red Hand - 4/5
The Shining Pyramid - 4/5
The Turanians - 4/5
The Idealist - 3/5
Witchcraft - 3/5
The Ceremony - 4/5
Psychology - 3/5
Midsummer - 4/5
The White People - 3/5
The Bowmen - 3/5
The Monstrance - 3/5
N - 3/5
The Tree of Life - 3/5
Change - 4/5
Ritual -3/5
This Oxford University Press collection, with an exceptional 21 page introduction and 38 pages of explanatory notes, includes the stories:
The Lost Club - 3/5
The Great God Pan - 4/5
The Inmost Light - 3/5
The Three Impostors - 4/5 (the complete novel is included)
The Red Hand - 4/5
The Shining Pyramid - 4/5
The Turanians - 4/5
The Idealist - 3/5
Witchcraft - 3/5
The Ceremony - 4/5
Psychology - 3/5
Midsummer - 4/5
The White People - 3/5
The Bowmen - 3/5
The Monstrance - 3/5
N - 3/5
The Tree of Life - 3/5
Change - 4/5
Ritual -3/5
June 3, 2024
Confieso que siento debilidad por los relatos fantásticos clásicos, ya sean de terror, góticos o de suspense y misterio. Los autores decimonónicos y de principios del siglo XX, tienen una magia especial, una manera de narrar que no se encuentra en otros géneros. Es muy satisfactorio sumergirse en esas tramas en las que prima mucho más el modo en que se va desplegando la historia y su contenido que los propios personajes, que, sin dejarlos a un lado, son meros comparsas de lo que está sucediendo. No importa cómo o cuándo lea este tipo de cuentos, pero si es en el silencio de la noche, el disfrute es mucho mayor.
Arthur Machen destacaba por las influencias mitológicas y folklóricas que introducía en sus narraciones, algo poco habitual en los relatos de terror de la época, donde los cuentos de fantasmas eran los más solicitados, y donde escritores de la talla de Sheridan Le Fanu sobresalían sobre los demás. Además de un prosa engañosamente clara, se notaba su domino en estas materias. Crónicas y leyendas antiguas y textos sagrados son sus temas favoritos, donde aparecen faunos, seres con pezuñas, gente pequeña o duendes, todos ellos ocultos en tupidos bosques perdidos en lejanas montañas. De modo tal que la imagen que tenemos que de que el llamado “mundo de las hadas” es dulce y maravilloso queda como una mentira que ha ido extendiéndose entre la humanidad, ya que la verdad es que estos seres son realmente terroríficos.
Pero no debemos olvidar que Machen fue una de las grandes influencias del maestro de lo sobrenatural, H.P. Lovecraft, siendo por tanto uno de los artífices del llamado horror cósmico, que aparece en algunos de sus relatos.
Los cuentos contenidos en esta recopilación tienen mucho de misterio y suspense, aunque el terror no falta, como es lógico. Machen plantea un enigma, que al principio puede no ser terrorífico, para posteriormente ir desvelando las investigaciones que realizan los protagonistas para esclarecer los hechos, lo que provoca la ansiedad del lector por conocer tales hechos.
Estos son los cuatro extensos relatos incluidos en el libro:
- El gran dios Pan (The Great God Pan). La historia comienza con un experimento que realiza el doctor Raymond con una joven a la que acogió de niña, con la que espera demostrar la existencia del mundo real que se encuentra tras lo que él llama el velo o también ver al gran dios Pan. Pero las cosas no saldrán como se esperaba. Testigo de todo ello es el señor Clarke, que cree haber dejado atrás estos hechos, si bien mantiene su propia investigación sobre ciertos acontecimientos con un cierto cariz fantástico. Machen mantiene el pulso narrativo extraordinariamente bien, donde vamos siguiendo a diversos personajes hasta un final donde todo converge. Un relato absolutamente imprescindible.
- La luz interior (The Inmost Light). Tras años sin haberse visto, Salisbury se encuentra fortuitamente con Dyson, y deciden ponerse al día sobre sus vidas. Será entonces cuando Dyson le cuente una extraña historia a Salisbury. Dyson tiene por costumbre observar la ciudad de Londres y sus pequeñeces; un buen día, yendo por Harlesden tuvo una visión en una ventana que le dejó muy intranquilo.
- La novela del Sello Negro (The Novel of the Black Seal). La señorita Lally se dispone a narrarle a Phillips, en el cual observa la discreción adecuada, lo que le aconteció realmente al profesor Gregg, especialista en etnología, dado por ahogado cuando estaba pasando unas semanas en las Colinas Grises, teniendo algo que ver en ello cierta piedra negra con unos caracteres misteriosos. Otra muestra del gran talento de Machen.
- La novela del polvo blanco (The Novel of the White Powder). La señorita Leicester está muy preocupada por su hermano Francis, el cual se pasa el día estudiando Derecho, sin apenas descansar. Era de esperar por tanto que tarde o temprano sus nervios se desmoronasen. El médico le extenderá una receta para un medicamento que, digámoslo de esta manera, tiene ciertos efectos secundarios.
Arthur Machen destacaba por las influencias mitológicas y folklóricas que introducía en sus narraciones, algo poco habitual en los relatos de terror de la época, donde los cuentos de fantasmas eran los más solicitados, y donde escritores de la talla de Sheridan Le Fanu sobresalían sobre los demás. Además de un prosa engañosamente clara, se notaba su domino en estas materias. Crónicas y leyendas antiguas y textos sagrados son sus temas favoritos, donde aparecen faunos, seres con pezuñas, gente pequeña o duendes, todos ellos ocultos en tupidos bosques perdidos en lejanas montañas. De modo tal que la imagen que tenemos que de que el llamado “mundo de las hadas” es dulce y maravilloso queda como una mentira que ha ido extendiéndose entre la humanidad, ya que la verdad es que estos seres son realmente terroríficos.
Pero no debemos olvidar que Machen fue una de las grandes influencias del maestro de lo sobrenatural, H.P. Lovecraft, siendo por tanto uno de los artífices del llamado horror cósmico, que aparece en algunos de sus relatos.
Los cuentos contenidos en esta recopilación tienen mucho de misterio y suspense, aunque el terror no falta, como es lógico. Machen plantea un enigma, que al principio puede no ser terrorífico, para posteriormente ir desvelando las investigaciones que realizan los protagonistas para esclarecer los hechos, lo que provoca la ansiedad del lector por conocer tales hechos.
Estos son los cuatro extensos relatos incluidos en el libro:
- El gran dios Pan (The Great God Pan). La historia comienza con un experimento que realiza el doctor Raymond con una joven a la que acogió de niña, con la que espera demostrar la existencia del mundo real que se encuentra tras lo que él llama el velo o también ver al gran dios Pan. Pero las cosas no saldrán como se esperaba. Testigo de todo ello es el señor Clarke, que cree haber dejado atrás estos hechos, si bien mantiene su propia investigación sobre ciertos acontecimientos con un cierto cariz fantástico. Machen mantiene el pulso narrativo extraordinariamente bien, donde vamos siguiendo a diversos personajes hasta un final donde todo converge. Un relato absolutamente imprescindible.
- La luz interior (The Inmost Light). Tras años sin haberse visto, Salisbury se encuentra fortuitamente con Dyson, y deciden ponerse al día sobre sus vidas. Será entonces cuando Dyson le cuente una extraña historia a Salisbury. Dyson tiene por costumbre observar la ciudad de Londres y sus pequeñeces; un buen día, yendo por Harlesden tuvo una visión en una ventana que le dejó muy intranquilo.
- La novela del Sello Negro (The Novel of the Black Seal). La señorita Lally se dispone a narrarle a Phillips, en el cual observa la discreción adecuada, lo que le aconteció realmente al profesor Gregg, especialista en etnología, dado por ahogado cuando estaba pasando unas semanas en las Colinas Grises, teniendo algo que ver en ello cierta piedra negra con unos caracteres misteriosos. Otra muestra del gran talento de Machen.
- La novela del polvo blanco (The Novel of the White Powder). La señorita Leicester está muy preocupada por su hermano Francis, el cual se pasa el día estudiando Derecho, sin apenas descansar. Era de esperar por tanto que tarde o temprano sus nervios se desmoronasen. El médico le extenderá una receta para un medicamento que, digámoslo de esta manera, tiene ciertos efectos secundarios.
October 24, 2019
En general me gustan los relatos de Machen, transmiten esa sensación de irrealidad en la que uno sabe que lo que está pasando no puede ser real, y aún así, en su interior sabe la verdad sobre las fuerzas oscuras que se ciernen desde los abismos mefíticos de este Mundo que tan poco conocemos. Y si había alguien que sabía de esto, ése era Machen, precursor de de los Mitos de Cthulhu con su genial "Vinnum Sabatti" o "El Sello Negro" y algunas otras. Este volumen contiene piezas memorables, como "El Pueblo Blanco" (clásico inspirador del universo lovecraftiano), "La Pirámide Resplandeciente" y "De las profundidades de la Tierra" (donde conocemos a la Gente Pequeña, seres mitológicos de la Gales natal de Machen pero a quienes el autor dota de un halo infernal y diabólico en sus descripciones detalladas). Estos 2 últimos son realmente notables, y se nota que sirvieron de fuente de inspiración para HPL en relatos como "El Miedo que acecha", por ej. Luego hay otros de corte más clásico, relatos de fantasmas com o "Los niños felices" o "Los Arqueros" y otro de suspenso como "La habitación acogedora". De todas maneras, no puedo dejar de hacer notar que es también un autor complicado, y que su concepto del horror es bastante particular, muchos de sus relatos están impregnados de una sensación que nunca llega a ser confirmada como algo maligno, en ese sentido es un autor bastante indefinido, si se quiere. Otro tomo infaltable de otro Maestro del horror gótico, ideal para tenerlo en la edición Gótica de Valdemar de ser posible
March 10, 2020
Still effective as the first time that I read the Great God Pan years ago. The following paragraph may well be the microcosm of the novella, or even of Machen's entire oeuvre.
"Look about you, Clarke. You see the mountain, and hill following after hill, as wave on wave, you see the woods and orchards, the fields of ripe corn, and the meadows reaching to the reed-beds by the river. You see me standing here beside you, and hear my voice; but I tell you that all these things—yes, from that star that has just shone out in the sky to the solid ground beneath our feet—I say that all these are but dreams and shadows: the shadows that hide the real world from our eyes. There is a real world, but it is beyond this glamour and this vision, beyond these "chases in Arras, dreams in a career," beyond them all as beyond a veil. I do not know whether any human being has ever lifted that veil; but I do know, Clarke, that you and I shall see it lifted this very night from before another's eyes. You may think all this strange nonsense; it may be strange, but it is true, and the ancients knew what lifting the veil means. They called it seeing the god Pan."
"Look about you, Clarke. You see the mountain, and hill following after hill, as wave on wave, you see the woods and orchards, the fields of ripe corn, and the meadows reaching to the reed-beds by the river. You see me standing here beside you, and hear my voice; but I tell you that all these things—yes, from that star that has just shone out in the sky to the solid ground beneath our feet—I say that all these are but dreams and shadows: the shadows that hide the real world from our eyes. There is a real world, but it is beyond this glamour and this vision, beyond these "chases in Arras, dreams in a career," beyond them all as beyond a veil. I do not know whether any human being has ever lifted that veil; but I do know, Clarke, that you and I shall see it lifted this very night from before another's eyes. You may think all this strange nonsense; it may be strange, but it is true, and the ancients knew what lifting the veil means. They called it seeing the god Pan."
February 27, 2020
more to come about this book, hopefully over the weekend.
for now: To say I loved this book would be very much an understatement. I'm a very patient reader and used to this sort of writing style so it didn't bother me a bit; I also love that while quite a lot of plot detail here stays somewhat shrouded in mystery in the telling, the reward (a nice case of the chills caused by a creeping dread or sort of an inward, involuntary gasp) comes once the brain clicks to the "unutterable" reality of what's actually going on in these stories. Okay -- at least what I thought was going on.
this single sentence from The Great God Pan pretty much sums up what you'll find at the heart of the stories in this book:
"I stood here, and saw before me the unutterable, the unthinkable gulf that yawns profound between two worlds, the world of matter and the world of spirit; I saw the great empty deep stretch dim before me, and in that instant a bridge of light leapt from the earth to the unknown shore, and the abyss was spanned."
more soon.
for now: To say I loved this book would be very much an understatement. I'm a very patient reader and used to this sort of writing style so it didn't bother me a bit; I also love that while quite a lot of plot detail here stays somewhat shrouded in mystery in the telling, the reward (a nice case of the chills caused by a creeping dread or sort of an inward, involuntary gasp) comes once the brain clicks to the "unutterable" reality of what's actually going on in these stories. Okay -- at least what I thought was going on.
this single sentence from The Great God Pan pretty much sums up what you'll find at the heart of the stories in this book:
"I stood here, and saw before me the unutterable, the unthinkable gulf that yawns profound between two worlds, the world of matter and the world of spirit; I saw the great empty deep stretch dim before me, and in that instant a bridge of light leapt from the earth to the unknown shore, and the abyss was spanned."
more soon.
August 14, 2019
No sé a vosotros, pero a mí si me dicen que un relato es el más terrorífico de todos los tiempos, me crean unas expectativas tan altas que arruinan cualquier posibilidad de objetividad. Tuve que leer y releer El gran dios Pan, ya no solo para sentir miedo, sino para entenderlo. La premisa o el meollo de la cuestión, enloquecer, es una de las que más cosica me dan, así como otras (zombis, alienígenas, asesinos en serie) me dejan más bien fría, lo cual luego no quita para que me guste más o menos la historia. Lo que quiero decir es: hay cosas que ya de entrada me dan miedo. Por ejemplo, los fantasmas. Y enloquecer. Enloquecer me aterra. Por lo tanto, Machen tenía ya un pie dentro, aunque no quisiera restarle mérito.
El gran dios Pan es un grandísimo relato de terror y resulta perfecto como iniciación a la obra de este misterioso autor (ni si quiera se sabe cómo pronunciar su nombre, creedme: he preguntado a personas galesas también) que se dedicó a sacar todo el oscuro jugo a la rica mitología celta y cuyos cuentos de terror son tan extraños que la gente los presenta como "los más terroríficos de todos los tiempos". Habrá que leer a Machen, no vaya a ser que tengan razón.
El gran dios Pan es un grandísimo relato de terror y resulta perfecto como iniciación a la obra de este misterioso autor (ni si quiera se sabe cómo pronunciar su nombre, creedme: he preguntado a personas galesas también) que se dedicó a sacar todo el oscuro jugo a la rica mitología celta y cuyos cuentos de terror son tan extraños que la gente los presenta como "los más terroríficos de todos los tiempos". Habrá que leer a Machen, no vaya a ser que tengan razón.
September 24, 2022
El diccionario define pánico como un intenso terror que sobrecoge a un individuo o colectivo en una situación de peligro, real o aparente. Sin embargo, la definición original del término, derivado del griego panikós, relativo al dios Pan, es mucho más amplia, y mucho más ambigua. El dios Pan era el dios de la naturaleza, los pastores y los rebaños, venerado y temido por los habitantes de las zonas rurales y ferales de la antigua Grecia; un dios que podía ser protector o traicionero, pues, al igual que los seres humanos, era de temperamento voluble y caprichoso, y nunca solía tomarse muy en serio su labor divina, prefiriendo, en cambio, las bacanales o los raptos de ninfas y otras divinidades femeninas. Se lo representaba como un hombre con atributos caprinos, a modo de fauno. Cuando el cristianismo se impuso y comenzó su purga pagana, el dios sátiro fue gradualmente sincretizado en la forma de Satanás, el demonio con cuernos de macho cabrío, patas y rabo a juego y enorme falo. El dios Pan, avatar de la naturaleza, ávido perseguidor de jovencitas y asiduo participante en ágapes dionisiacos paso a convertirse en la máxima representación del mal en el cristianismo. No es de extrañar, pues, que el diccionario solo recoja la acepción más negativa del término pánico, desdeñando su significado original, más relacionado con la naturaleza, voluble, cambiante y siempre misteriosa para el humano civilizado.
Para entender el terror de Arthur Machen hay que aprehender lo pánico. El escritor gales tiene una visión muy personal del horror, al igual que la tenía Algernon Blackwood, otro gran amante de su naturaleza que quiso plasmar en sus cuentos lo terrorífico de sus misteriosas manifestaciones. La aproximación de Machen es mucho más abstracta: muchas veces no hay una amenaza definida, otras no hay amenaza en absoluto. En sus relatos más logrados, lo terrorífico se abre paso en el momento en que el protagonista, o uno de sus conocidos, entra en contacto con un caso o un objeto que levanta ligeramente el frágil velo de la realidad. Porque, al igual que su aventajado discípulo de Providence, es el conocimiento prohibido, y no un fantasma o un ser sobrenatural, la fuente de todo terror. Así, una vez apartado el velo de lo real solo queda vislumbrar con horror lo sobrenatural.
Este esquema es el que siguen relatos como El gran dios Pan, en el que una fallida operación quirúrgica transforma a una inofensiva joven en una monstruosa depredadora capaz de llevar a la locura y consunción de todo hombre que se aproxime a ella; o en la luz interior, en el que un científico trata de introducir el alma de su esposa en una joya, permitiendo en el proceso que algo tome su lugar; o la mucho más visceral El polvo blanco, donde es una medicina apócrifa la que provoca el cambio del paciente. Todos estos relatos podrían englobarse dentro del horror cósmico, en tanto que la amenaza y lo terrorífico parte de la total incapacidad del ser humano de diferenciar lo real de lo sobrenatural. Estas tres piezas terroríficas son, con diferencia, el mejor ejemplo de cómo el autor gales trabajaba el horror.
Sin embargo, y es por lo que he llamado a Lovecraft alumno aventajado, el pulso narrativo de Arthur Machen impide llegar a un clímax terrorífico satisfactorio. Los protagonistas de sus relatos pocas veces son testigos de, sino simples comparsas que se hacen ecos de historias contadas por terceros, que a lo sumo logran, a modo de primicia, hacerse con la resolución del misterio a través de una declaración escrita esclarecedora. Que nunca seamos observadores directos hace que ese elemento terrorífico brille, pues el monstruo creado por la imaginación siempre será más terrible que el horror explícito, más aún en la ficción extraña, pero enlentece y alarga las tramas, rompe el ritmo e impide saborear el clímax apropiadamente.
El resto de cuentos se hacen eco de las tradiciones celtas y paganas, que nunca desaparecieron del todo en la región galesa, sino que se adormecieron e infiltraron en los bosques y paramos. Prueba de ello es la naturalidad con que los lugareños en estos cuentos asumen ciertos sucesos extraordinarios. Así, tenemos la aparición del llamado "pueblo pequeño" en cuentos como La pirámide resplandeciente o La novela del sello negro, una raza primitiva y feérica que habita en el subsuelo, y que de vez en cuando se dejan caer para secuestrar a algún despistado transeúnte. Este pueblo pequeño protagonizan varios cuentos de Robert E. Howard, aunque con un matiz mucho más racista: lo que para Machen es un pueblo terrible y misterioso de índole fantástico para el texano no son más que una raza degradada -el los llama "mongola", a tenor de la teoría de la regresión evolutiva, muy popular en los albores del siglo XX-, y por tanto malvada, que fueron expulsados de la superficie por los aesires y pictos. Ya sean entes fantásticas o razas subhumanas, su naturaleza perversa los convierten en los principales antagonistas en estas historias.
El resto de relatos son interesantes, pero no muy disfrutables. Uno de estos cuentos, Un chico listo, destaca por carecer totalmente de un elemento sobrenatural. Otros se hacen eco del folclore gales para, a modo de crónica, exponer ciertos sucesos fantásticos. Y, por último, destacaría N, que vuelve a traer a escena ese horror pánico. Este relato me recuerda mucho a un cuento bastante olvidado de Lovecraft, El, en el que también es un paisaje maravilloso en la ciudad el protagonista. Prefiero más el cuento de Lovecraft.
Los cuentos de Arthur Machen, a nivel filosófico, me encantan, no tanto el resultado ni la aproximación del autor. Creo que muchas de estas historias se hubieran beneficiado de otro tipo de narración, más directa y activa. Pero ni mucho menos voy a decir que Machen escribe mal, tampoco osaría corregir la obra de uno de los maestros absolutos del horror sobrenatural. Ya quisiera un servidor escribir así e inflamar la imaginación de tantos futuros escritores. Porque es destacable el valor histórico de estos cuentos, pues si quien los lee ha disfrutado de los cuentos de Lovecraft muy seguramente reconozca muchos lugares comunes en los de Machen. Confió en que esta reseña, pese a las críticas que en ella aparecen, no desaliente a los posibles lectores. Pues, aunque yo no lo haya disfrutado tanto, no quita que Arthur Machen sea una lectura obligada para cualquier aficionado al terror.
Para entender el terror de Arthur Machen hay que aprehender lo pánico. El escritor gales tiene una visión muy personal del horror, al igual que la tenía Algernon Blackwood, otro gran amante de su naturaleza que quiso plasmar en sus cuentos lo terrorífico de sus misteriosas manifestaciones. La aproximación de Machen es mucho más abstracta: muchas veces no hay una amenaza definida, otras no hay amenaza en absoluto. En sus relatos más logrados, lo terrorífico se abre paso en el momento en que el protagonista, o uno de sus conocidos, entra en contacto con un caso o un objeto que levanta ligeramente el frágil velo de la realidad. Porque, al igual que su aventajado discípulo de Providence, es el conocimiento prohibido, y no un fantasma o un ser sobrenatural, la fuente de todo terror. Así, una vez apartado el velo de lo real solo queda vislumbrar con horror lo sobrenatural.
Este esquema es el que siguen relatos como El gran dios Pan, en el que una fallida operación quirúrgica transforma a una inofensiva joven en una monstruosa depredadora capaz de llevar a la locura y consunción de todo hombre que se aproxime a ella; o en la luz interior, en el que un científico trata de introducir el alma de su esposa en una joya, permitiendo en el proceso que algo tome su lugar; o la mucho más visceral El polvo blanco, donde es una medicina apócrifa la que provoca el cambio del paciente. Todos estos relatos podrían englobarse dentro del horror cósmico, en tanto que la amenaza y lo terrorífico parte de la total incapacidad del ser humano de diferenciar lo real de lo sobrenatural. Estas tres piezas terroríficas son, con diferencia, el mejor ejemplo de cómo el autor gales trabajaba el horror.
Sin embargo, y es por lo que he llamado a Lovecraft alumno aventajado, el pulso narrativo de Arthur Machen impide llegar a un clímax terrorífico satisfactorio. Los protagonistas de sus relatos pocas veces son testigos de, sino simples comparsas que se hacen ecos de historias contadas por terceros, que a lo sumo logran, a modo de primicia, hacerse con la resolución del misterio a través de una declaración escrita esclarecedora. Que nunca seamos observadores directos hace que ese elemento terrorífico brille, pues el monstruo creado por la imaginación siempre será más terrible que el horror explícito, más aún en la ficción extraña, pero enlentece y alarga las tramas, rompe el ritmo e impide saborear el clímax apropiadamente.
El resto de cuentos se hacen eco de las tradiciones celtas y paganas, que nunca desaparecieron del todo en la región galesa, sino que se adormecieron e infiltraron en los bosques y paramos. Prueba de ello es la naturalidad con que los lugareños en estos cuentos asumen ciertos sucesos extraordinarios. Así, tenemos la aparición del llamado "pueblo pequeño" en cuentos como La pirámide resplandeciente o La novela del sello negro, una raza primitiva y feérica que habita en el subsuelo, y que de vez en cuando se dejan caer para secuestrar a algún despistado transeúnte. Este pueblo pequeño protagonizan varios cuentos de Robert E. Howard, aunque con un matiz mucho más racista: lo que para Machen es un pueblo terrible y misterioso de índole fantástico para el texano no son más que una raza degradada -el los llama "mongola", a tenor de la teoría de la regresión evolutiva, muy popular en los albores del siglo XX-, y por tanto malvada, que fueron expulsados de la superficie por los aesires y pictos. Ya sean entes fantásticas o razas subhumanas, su naturaleza perversa los convierten en los principales antagonistas en estas historias.
El resto de relatos son interesantes, pero no muy disfrutables. Uno de estos cuentos, Un chico listo, destaca por carecer totalmente de un elemento sobrenatural. Otros se hacen eco del folclore gales para, a modo de crónica, exponer ciertos sucesos fantásticos. Y, por último, destacaría N, que vuelve a traer a escena ese horror pánico. Este relato me recuerda mucho a un cuento bastante olvidado de Lovecraft, El, en el que también es un paisaje maravilloso en la ciudad el protagonista. Prefiero más el cuento de Lovecraft.
Los cuentos de Arthur Machen, a nivel filosófico, me encantan, no tanto el resultado ni la aproximación del autor. Creo que muchas de estas historias se hubieran beneficiado de otro tipo de narración, más directa y activa. Pero ni mucho menos voy a decir que Machen escribe mal, tampoco osaría corregir la obra de uno de los maestros absolutos del horror sobrenatural. Ya quisiera un servidor escribir así e inflamar la imaginación de tantos futuros escritores. Porque es destacable el valor histórico de estos cuentos, pues si quien los lee ha disfrutado de los cuentos de Lovecraft muy seguramente reconozca muchos lugares comunes en los de Machen. Confió en que esta reseña, pese a las críticas que en ella aparecen, no desaliente a los posibles lectores. Pues, aunque yo no lo haya disfrutado tanto, no quita que Arthur Machen sea una lectura obligada para cualquier aficionado al terror.
July 5, 2025
Esta edición de Valdemar en verdad es un compendio de dos novelas cortas de Machen y un relato corto, aunque en verdad su procedimiento casi siempre es el mismo. El escritor británico siempre compone las historias de gente corriente, dónde aparecen algunos estudiosos interesados en el ocultismo, y que de una forma u otra topan con misterios arcanos, con piedras extrañas de origen milenario, elementos que siempre desatan la muerte y la locura. A estos males siempre se accede forma gradual y el lector de forma muy oblicua, apenas unos fogonazos, muchas veces sólo se muestra las terribles consecuencias de haber contactado con estas abominaciones, como ahora ahorcamientos o cadáveres fulminados por ataques de pánico. Supongo que a los lectores de Lovecraft esto les sonará familiar. Jamás presenciamos de forma directa como estos poderes se manifiestan, ninguna gran escena apoteósica. El como administra esta información y cómo construye la atmósfera febril sin duda está entre las cualidades más destacadas de Arthur Machen.
Como escritor, Machen recurre a diversos refinamientos narrativos, posiblemente heredados de la novela gótica, tales como las cajas chinas, juega mucho con los cambios de perspectiva para completar visiones parciales de la realidad, que siempre se muestra amenazante y extraña. Pero por otra parte como narrador muchas veces resulta cargante, con párrafos muy recargados que se expresan de formas muy redichas, que toma rodeos sin la habilidad necesaria para hacerlos interesantes, con lo que muchas veces acabas hastiado aunque comprendas que lo explica tiene su atractivo pero su escritura es demasiado amanerada como para sacarle el mejor partido.
Es un autor que conocía vagamente, de forma muy indirecta, y que repentinamente cobró vivo interés tras leer el Espalda negra del tiempo de Javier Marías, viéndose además reforzado por la afinidad que tiene con Lovecraft y que Valdemar se esmera en remarcar y enfatizar. Pero no creo que haber descubierto un nuevo gran interés. En verdad representa todo lo que antes, cuando era adolescente, achacaba a los escritores clásicos, es decir, la pesadez y la narración desangelada. Por más que sus historias contengan un burbujeo picante, las armas literarias que buscan sacarle partido tienen poco que ver conmigo.
Salvo otro capricho repentino, me parece que mi exploración del mundo de Arthur Machen comienza y se detiene con este libro.
Como escritor, Machen recurre a diversos refinamientos narrativos, posiblemente heredados de la novela gótica, tales como las cajas chinas, juega mucho con los cambios de perspectiva para completar visiones parciales de la realidad, que siempre se muestra amenazante y extraña. Pero por otra parte como narrador muchas veces resulta cargante, con párrafos muy recargados que se expresan de formas muy redichas, que toma rodeos sin la habilidad necesaria para hacerlos interesantes, con lo que muchas veces acabas hastiado aunque comprendas que lo explica tiene su atractivo pero su escritura es demasiado amanerada como para sacarle el mejor partido.
Es un autor que conocía vagamente, de forma muy indirecta, y que repentinamente cobró vivo interés tras leer el Espalda negra del tiempo de Javier Marías, viéndose además reforzado por la afinidad que tiene con Lovecraft y que Valdemar se esmera en remarcar y enfatizar. Pero no creo que haber descubierto un nuevo gran interés. En verdad representa todo lo que antes, cuando era adolescente, achacaba a los escritores clásicos, es decir, la pesadez y la narración desangelada. Por más que sus historias contengan un burbujeo picante, las armas literarias que buscan sacarle partido tienen poco que ver conmigo.
Salvo otro capricho repentino, me parece que mi exploración del mundo de Arthur Machen comienza y se detiene con este libro.
April 14, 2024
4/5
Leer un libro de Valdemar de la colección Gótica siempre es una experiencia única. Solo había leído un par de relatos de este autor, uno de los grandes nombres del género, y quería conocer en profundidad su obra. Y no me ha defraudado en absoluto, aunque he de reconocer que algunos relatos me los imaginaba diferentes. Tenía entendido que Machen intentó huir de los temas clásicos del terror para crear uno más particular, en el que la mitología y el folclore toman el protagonismo; no obstante, no pensaba que sus dos historias más conocidas, «El gran dios Pan» y «El pueblo blanco», fueran así. La primera sí me gustó bastante, aunque me sorprendió la trama, pero la segunda fue la mayor decepción del libro, esperaba algo diferente. Lo cierto es que algunas de las historias que más me han gustado de la antología no son sus más famosas, como «La pirámide resplandeciente», «La luz interior» o «Los niños de la charca». Estas tres, junto con «El polvo blanco» y «El sello negro», más conocidas, son para mí las obras en las que Machen brilla más, rozando la excelencia.
Me alegra haberme acercado definitivamente a la obra de este autor, pues llevaba mucho tiempo queriendo leerlo más en profundidad. Sin duda, es un terror atípico y, pese a que a veces cierre las historias de una manera un tanto extraña, la atmósfera, el estilo y el desarrollo de la trama te absorben. En él se puede encontrar una de las fuentes que sirvieron de inspiración a Lovecraft, pero las diferencias entre las obras de ambos autores son abismales. En fin, solo me resta decir que este libro ha sido un gran compañero para unos meses horribles...
Leer un libro de Valdemar de la colección Gótica siempre es una experiencia única. Solo había leído un par de relatos de este autor, uno de los grandes nombres del género, y quería conocer en profundidad su obra. Y no me ha defraudado en absoluto, aunque he de reconocer que algunos relatos me los imaginaba diferentes. Tenía entendido que Machen intentó huir de los temas clásicos del terror para crear uno más particular, en el que la mitología y el folclore toman el protagonismo; no obstante, no pensaba que sus dos historias más conocidas, «El gran dios Pan» y «El pueblo blanco», fueran así. La primera sí me gustó bastante, aunque me sorprendió la trama, pero la segunda fue la mayor decepción del libro, esperaba algo diferente. Lo cierto es que algunas de las historias que más me han gustado de la antología no son sus más famosas, como «La pirámide resplandeciente», «La luz interior» o «Los niños de la charca». Estas tres, junto con «El polvo blanco» y «El sello negro», más conocidas, son para mí las obras en las que Machen brilla más, rozando la excelencia.
Me alegra haberme acercado definitivamente a la obra de este autor, pues llevaba mucho tiempo queriendo leerlo más en profundidad. Sin duda, es un terror atípico y, pese a que a veces cierre las historias de una manera un tanto extraña, la atmósfera, el estilo y el desarrollo de la trama te absorben. En él se puede encontrar una de las fuentes que sirvieron de inspiración a Lovecraft, pero las diferencias entre las obras de ambos autores son abismales. En fin, solo me resta decir que este libro ha sido un gran compañero para unos meses horribles...
April 13, 2019
And I came to a hill that I never saw before. I was in a dismal thicket full of black twisted boughs that tore me as I went through them, and I cried out because I was smarting all over, and then I found that I was climbing, and I went up and up a long way, till at last the thicket stopped and I came out crying just under the top of a big bare place, where there were ugly grey stones lying all about on the grass, and here and there a little, twisted stunted tree came out from under a stone, like a snake. And I went up, right to the top, a long way. I never saw such big ugly stones before; they came out of the earth some of them, and some looked as if they had been rolled to where they were, and they went on and on as far as I could see, a long, long way. I looked out from them and saw the country, but it was strange. It was winter time, and there were black terrible woods hanging from the hills all round; it was like seeing a large room hung with black curtains, and the shape of the trees seemed quite different from any I had ever seen before. I was afraid. Then beyond the woods there were other hills round in a great ring, but I had never seen any of them; it all looked black, and everything had a voor over it. It was all so still and silent, and the sky was heavy and grey and sad, like a wicked voorish dome in Deep Dendo. I went on into the dreadful rocks. There were hundreds and hundreds of them. Some were like horrid-grinning men; I could see their faces as if they would jump at me out of the stone, and catch hold of me, and drag me with them back into the rock, so that I should always be there. And there were other rocks that were like animals, creeping horrible animals, putting out their tongues, and others were like words I could not say, and others were like dead people lying on the grass. I went on among them, though they frightened me, and my heart was full of wicked songs that they put into it; and I wanted to make faces and twist myself about in the way they did, and I went on and on a long way till at last I liked the rocks, and they didn't frighten me any more. I sang the songs I thought of; songs full of words that must not be spoken or written down. Then I made faces like the faces on the rocks, and I twisted myself about like the twisted ones, and I lay down flat on the ground like the dead ones, and I went up to one that was grinning, and put my arms round him and hugged him.
November 26, 2021
The first novel, The great God Pan, was okay. It's the kind of story that is fun to think about afterwards, not so much actually reading. But it could have been a great read if it was longer and a bit more in-depth.
The other stories where... fillers. I couldn't have given a sssh less about those. They were just words. No story. No passion. No nothing.
It felt, overall, like there's too much text, with unnecessary explanations and descriptions.
I'm almost getting flashbacks to "The hunchback of Notre Dame" by Victor Hugo with the endless description of the streets in Paris. But at least i enjoyed that and could "see" the streets in my head. These stories bring nothing, i see pretty much nothing, and the characters feel unnatural and staged.
The other stories where... fillers. I couldn't have given a sssh less about those. They were just words. No story. No passion. No nothing.
It felt, overall, like there's too much text, with unnecessary explanations and descriptions.
I'm almost getting flashbacks to "The hunchback of Notre Dame" by Victor Hugo with the endless description of the streets in Paris. But at least i enjoyed that and could "see" the streets in my head. These stories bring nothing, i see pretty much nothing, and the characters feel unnatural and staged.
November 4, 2020
Basically a perfect collection to reflect and define one of folk horrors great maestros, and an unsung one at that. THE GREAT GOD PAN, THE WHITE PEOPLE, THE THREE IMPOSTERS, and THE SHINING PYRAMID are now among my favorite mythic horror out there and this, probably the only decent collection of Machens work out there, is essential.
January 9, 2021
Es el primer libro que leí de Arthur Machen y como bautismo de este escritor no me anduve con chiquitas ya que es de lo mejor que he leído en relatos de terror, además de contener este libro su mejor relato, según Lovecraft por ejemplo, El gran dios Pan, junto a otros tres que me parecieron absolutamente alucinantes. ¡Leeré más de Arthur Manchen, no lo duden!
July 26, 2018
Beautiful writing and chilling tales that focus on atmosphere and slow-building dread.
February 7, 2022
This is a better collection of Machen's stories than the Penguin Classics' The White People and Other Weird Stories, containing as it does all of the great stuff, but with a better selection of lesser known work, and, moreover, it does not butcher the novel The Three Imposters into glistening chunks of short story meat. The Oxford World's Classics edition also sports an excellent introduction and notes (which, to be fair, the Penguin collection also had, being edited by the ever-dependable S T Joshi), by Aaron Worth.
As I've discovered, Machen is not a casual read. There's work to be done to get at the fantastic and the strange and the downright horrific (my reason for being here in the first place), wading through lengthy asides that have little bearing on the story at hand, somewhat irritating amateur sleuthing, conclusions and revelations buried within otherwise innocuous prose. But do the work, go with it, and you'll be rewarded with nuggets of absolutely beautiful writing of Dunsanian heights, and hints at horrors even Lovecraft shied away from.
A superb introduction to Arthur Machen.
As I've discovered, Machen is not a casual read. There's work to be done to get at the fantastic and the strange and the downright horrific (my reason for being here in the first place), wading through lengthy asides that have little bearing on the story at hand, somewhat irritating amateur sleuthing, conclusions and revelations buried within otherwise innocuous prose. But do the work, go with it, and you'll be rewarded with nuggets of absolutely beautiful writing of Dunsanian heights, and hints at horrors even Lovecraft shied away from.
A superb introduction to Arthur Machen.
March 6, 2018
Weird and wonderful...
This is a collection of those stories of Arthur Machen that fit into what would now be thought of as 'weird' tales. Normally when a book is titled after one story with the rest lumped under “and other”, my expectation would be that the title story would be the best of them. And indeed, I loved The Great God Pan. But I was thrilled to find that many of the other stories in this book are at least as good, and some are even better. I've discovered a new favourite horror writer!
The book is edited by Aaron Worth, Associate Professor of Rhetoric at Boston University. He provides an informative introduction, which gives a brief biography of Machen's literary life along with a discussion of his influences and themes, and of his own influence on later generations of writers. Worth also provides copious notes to explain any unfamiliar terms, or allusions within the text to other works, to mythologies, or to the preoccupations of Machen's society. All of this richly enhanced my reading experience, reminding me once again that, great though it is to be able to download so many old stories, a well-edited volume is still a major pleasure.
Machen's stories are set mainly in two locations, both of which he evokes brilliantly. His native Monmouthshire, in Wales, is depicted as a place with connections to its deep past, where ancient beliefs and rituals are hidden just under the surface of civilised life. His London is a place of dark alleys and hidden evils, with a kind of degenerate race living side by side with the respectable people, and often stretching out a corrupting hand towards them. Worth tells us that Machen was sometimes considered to be connected to the Decadent movement – Oscar Wilde, Aubrey Beardsley, et al – although Machen himself disputed this. But there is a definite air of decadence with a small 'd' about the stories. Many have strong sexual undercurrents (never overtly spelled out – it's the Victorian era) and paganism is a recurring feature. There's also a frequent suggestion that the morally deficient are most likely to succumb to the forces of evil, and will often pay a horrible price for their weakness.
The quality of the writing is excellent – stylistically it compares to the likes of Conan Doyle or HG Wells. There's a good deal of humour in it alongside some effective and occasionally gruesome horror and he's a great storyteller. His descriptive writing is also very good. I particularly liked how he used London pollution effectively to give a strangeness to the city – his skies are purple, grey, dark, red, and the street lamps have to fight to shed their light through the dirty air. His Wales is equally good in what feels like a deliberately contrasting way. There, the air is clear but there are hidden things behind ancient rock formations – old symbols, and sometimes new symbols placed by ancient races.
The Welsh parts have a very similar feel to Lovecraft's ruins – Lovecraft acknowledged his influence – but where Lovecraft opted for ancient malign aliens, Machen's evil is all of earth, earthly. Worth reminds us that this was at a time when Victorian society was having to get used to the ideas that man had evolved from the beast and that the world was far, far more ancient than had previously been thought. Where Wells takes evolution far into the future in The Time Machine, Machen instead suggests that some of the ancient things of earth are still here, unevolved and unchanging. And that sometimes they might even live within us...
The stories range in length from a couple of pages to well over a hundred. I gave every one individually either 4 or 5 stars – I think that's a first for me in any collection. Some of the very short ones are a little fragmentary, but each either tells a tale on its own or adds depth to the world Machen has created. Some are outright horror, some more an evocation of a kind of witchy paganism, some based more in reality. If, like me, you've managed to miss out on Machen up till now, I strongly recommend you make his acquaintance – a great collection.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Oxford World's Classics.
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This is a collection of those stories of Arthur Machen that fit into what would now be thought of as 'weird' tales. Normally when a book is titled after one story with the rest lumped under “and other”, my expectation would be that the title story would be the best of them. And indeed, I loved The Great God Pan. But I was thrilled to find that many of the other stories in this book are at least as good, and some are even better. I've discovered a new favourite horror writer!
The book is edited by Aaron Worth, Associate Professor of Rhetoric at Boston University. He provides an informative introduction, which gives a brief biography of Machen's literary life along with a discussion of his influences and themes, and of his own influence on later generations of writers. Worth also provides copious notes to explain any unfamiliar terms, or allusions within the text to other works, to mythologies, or to the preoccupations of Machen's society. All of this richly enhanced my reading experience, reminding me once again that, great though it is to be able to download so many old stories, a well-edited volume is still a major pleasure.
Machen's stories are set mainly in two locations, both of which he evokes brilliantly. His native Monmouthshire, in Wales, is depicted as a place with connections to its deep past, where ancient beliefs and rituals are hidden just under the surface of civilised life. His London is a place of dark alleys and hidden evils, with a kind of degenerate race living side by side with the respectable people, and often stretching out a corrupting hand towards them. Worth tells us that Machen was sometimes considered to be connected to the Decadent movement – Oscar Wilde, Aubrey Beardsley, et al – although Machen himself disputed this. But there is a definite air of decadence with a small 'd' about the stories. Many have strong sexual undercurrents (never overtly spelled out – it's the Victorian era) and paganism is a recurring feature. There's also a frequent suggestion that the morally deficient are most likely to succumb to the forces of evil, and will often pay a horrible price for their weakness.
The quality of the writing is excellent – stylistically it compares to the likes of Conan Doyle or HG Wells. There's a good deal of humour in it alongside some effective and occasionally gruesome horror and he's a great storyteller. His descriptive writing is also very good. I particularly liked how he used London pollution effectively to give a strangeness to the city – his skies are purple, grey, dark, red, and the street lamps have to fight to shed their light through the dirty air. His Wales is equally good in what feels like a deliberately contrasting way. There, the air is clear but there are hidden things behind ancient rock formations – old symbols, and sometimes new symbols placed by ancient races.
The Welsh parts have a very similar feel to Lovecraft's ruins – Lovecraft acknowledged his influence – but where Lovecraft opted for ancient malign aliens, Machen's evil is all of earth, earthly. Worth reminds us that this was at a time when Victorian society was having to get used to the ideas that man had evolved from the beast and that the world was far, far more ancient than had previously been thought. Where Wells takes evolution far into the future in The Time Machine, Machen instead suggests that some of the ancient things of earth are still here, unevolved and unchanging. And that sometimes they might even live within us...
The stories range in length from a couple of pages to well over a hundred. I gave every one individually either 4 or 5 stars – I think that's a first for me in any collection. Some of the very short ones are a little fragmentary, but each either tells a tale on its own or adds depth to the world Machen has created. Some are outright horror, some more an evocation of a kind of witchy paganism, some based more in reality. If, like me, you've managed to miss out on Machen up till now, I strongly recommend you make his acquaintance – a great collection.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Oxford World's Classics.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
July 8, 2018
Me encantó el libro.
Al igual que su primera edición, este libro incluye:
- "El gran dios Pan": ya había tenido la oportunidad de leer este relato en la "Antología de cuentos de terror 3 de Arthur Machen a H. P. Lovecraft", selección de Rafael Llopis, por editorial Alianza. Es un relato bastante extenso, sin embargo, acapara totalmente tu atención, me parece que a veces el autor va un poco lento pero no llega a aburrir para nada, este cuento es ampliamente recomendable y un gran clásico para aquellos amantes del horror y aquellos que estan en el estudio de de las grandes influencias de Lovecraft.
-"La luz interior": un poco largo y al principio confuso, pero el hecho de que vaya dilatando la historia nos sirve para comprender el final, ya que es muy común que el autor nos insinue las cosas sin llegar a decirnos de forma explícita lo que pasó, esto lejos de desesperarme, me deja un poco consternada. Este cuento me parecio un poco triste, pero otra de las características del autor es que no hay final feliz para el sujeto de la historia, los protagonistas de estos relatos son meros espectadores de la historia en sí.
-"La novela del sello negro": este fué mi relato favorito del libro, me encanta cuando se valen de elementos arqueológicos y antropológicos para proporcionar una base, de hecho una de mis cosas favoritas de Machen es el uso que da de la antigua mitología celta y como habla de antiguos pueblos, que usa como elemento de terror aquellas fuerzas elementales y desconocidas, que ciertas personas o seres siguen invocando.
- "La novela del polvo blanco": este es uno de los relatos más cortos del libro, en este caso, habla de la transmutación de un hombre en alguna clase de ser repugnante, gracias a la acción de una sustancia desconocidada usada en los aquelarres más antiguos.
Al igual que su primera edición, este libro incluye:
- "El gran dios Pan": ya había tenido la oportunidad de leer este relato en la "Antología de cuentos de terror 3 de Arthur Machen a H. P. Lovecraft", selección de Rafael Llopis, por editorial Alianza. Es un relato bastante extenso, sin embargo, acapara totalmente tu atención, me parece que a veces el autor va un poco lento pero no llega a aburrir para nada, este cuento es ampliamente recomendable y un gran clásico para aquellos amantes del horror y aquellos que estan en el estudio de de las grandes influencias de Lovecraft.
-"La luz interior": un poco largo y al principio confuso, pero el hecho de que vaya dilatando la historia nos sirve para comprender el final, ya que es muy común que el autor nos insinue las cosas sin llegar a decirnos de forma explícita lo que pasó, esto lejos de desesperarme, me deja un poco consternada. Este cuento me parecio un poco triste, pero otra de las características del autor es que no hay final feliz para el sujeto de la historia, los protagonistas de estos relatos son meros espectadores de la historia en sí.
-"La novela del sello negro": este fué mi relato favorito del libro, me encanta cuando se valen de elementos arqueológicos y antropológicos para proporcionar una base, de hecho una de mis cosas favoritas de Machen es el uso que da de la antigua mitología celta y como habla de antiguos pueblos, que usa como elemento de terror aquellas fuerzas elementales y desconocidas, que ciertas personas o seres siguen invocando.
- "La novela del polvo blanco": este es uno de los relatos más cortos del libro, en este caso, habla de la transmutación de un hombre en alguna clase de ser repugnante, gracias a la acción de una sustancia desconocidada usada en los aquelarres más antiguos.
November 7, 2020
A far better-curated anthology of Machen than the Penguin 'White People and Other Tales' release, consisting of basically every major Machen weird tale, along with some short oddities. I'm glad to have finally read 'N', which fits in a trifecta with 'The Great God Pan' and 'The White People' as my favorite Machen.
July 9, 2025
I came home from my stroll a little refreshed and lightened. The air was sweet and pleasant, and the hazy form of green leaves, floating cloudlike in the square, and the smell of blossoms, had charmed my senses, and I felt happier and walked more briskly. As I delayed a moment at the verge of the pavement, waiting for a van to pass by before crossing over to the house, I happened to look up at the windows, and instantly there was the rush and swirl of deep cold waters in my ears, my heart leapt up, and fell down, down as into a deep hollow, and I was amazed with a dread and terror without form or shape. I stretched out a hand blindly through folds of thick darkness, from the black and shadowy valley, and held myself from falling, while the stones beneath my feet rocked and swayed and tilted, and the sense of solid things seemed to slink away from under me. I had glanced up at the window of my brother's study, and at the moment the blind was drawn aside, and something that had life stared out into the world. Nay, I cannot say I saw a face or any human likeness; a living thing, two eyes of burning flame glared at me, and they were in the midst of something as formless as my fear, the symbol and presence of all evil and all hideous corruption.A selection of stories from the 1890s through 1930s presented with scholarly flair. Machen's influence on horror writers through the last century is plain to see upon experiencing his work; I now see the direct line from these to H.P. Lovecraft, Stephen King, T. Kingfisher, T.E.D. Klein, so many more.
The stories are truly a mixed bag, presented in writing order. The very first, The Lost Club, struck me as confused and pointless. Thankfully, the next, The Great God Pan, immediately righted the ship and proved why it's the best known of all his work. Chilling and otherwordly, deeply rooted in both the Welsh countryside and urban London, subtle in its horror. Its opening section outshines the rest of it. The stories to follow repeat several themes and reuse characters. They're stuffed with young, idle aristocratic gentlemen; plots advance largely due to fortuitous chance encounters; and strangers frequently launch into extended accounts of their lives, forming the core stories of interest. The framing stories add little to the true tales. Sudden immersion into horror at a glimpse of something fey or devilish, like the passage opening this review, happens often but is always done marvelously, as is the general characterization of horror as a creeping infiltration of a hideous world thinly veiled from our own.
The highlight of the entire collection is The White People. An excerpt:
It was a very rainy day and I could not go out, so in the afternoon I got a candle and rummaged in the bureau. Nearly all the drawers were full of old dresses, but one of the small ones looked empty, and I found this book hidden right at the back. I wanted a book like this, so I took it to write in. It is full of secrets. I have a great many other books of secrets I have written, hidden in a safe place, and I am going to write here many of the old secrets and some of the new ones; but there are some I shall not put down at all. I must not write down the real names of the days and months which I found out a year ago, nor the way to make the Aklo letters, or the Chian language, or the great beautiful Circles, nor the Mao games, nor the chief songs. I may write something about all these things but not the way to do them, for peculiar reasons. And I must not say who the Nymphs are, of the Dôls, or Jeelo, or what voolas mean. All these are most secret secrets, and I am glad when I remember what they are, and how many wonderful languages I know, but there are some things that I call the secrets of the secrets of the secrets that I dare not think of unless I am quite alone, and then I shut my eyes, and put my hands over them and whisper the word, and the Alala comes. I only do this at night in my room or in certain woods that I know, but I must not describe them, as they are secret woods. Then there are the Ceremonies, which are all of them important, but some are more delightful than others—there are the White Ceremonies, and the Green Ceremonies, and the Scarlet Ceremonies. The Scarlet Ceremonies are the best, but there is only one place where they can be performed properly, though there is a very nice imitation which I have done in other places. Besides these, I have the dances, and the Comedy, and I have done the Comedy sometimes when the others were looking, and they didn't understand anything about it. I was very little when I first knew about these things.This story, told through a young woman's diary and framed by an almost unbearable conversation between two men debating the nature of evil, was absolutely chilling, dreamlike, relentless, in paragraphs that last for pages. If you're any kind of horror fan, you truly ought to read at least The White People and The Great God Pan. They are in the public domain and available via Project Gutenberg, along with much more of Machen's work: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25016
There are a few very short (2-3 page) stories that offer mixed results; the intention is clear in each but they don't all quite hit the mark. The Turanians was the strongest of these. After the 1890s, there are a pair of WWI-era tales, then some of his 1930s work, including N, which was the basis for Alan Moore's The Great When published in the past year.
This specific collection is bound in mustard as an homage to The Yellow Book (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Yel...), a literary journal which was popular during the time of Machen's initial popularity (or infamy), and more generally to scandalous fiction of the period. It's introduction starts with a highly welcome header:
Readers unfamiliar with the stories may wish to treat this introduction as an afterword.This should be a required statement on all editions of classics. The introduction is excellent, as it happens. My one quibble with the edition is this*: the use of asterisks to indicate endnotes. Following the full set of stories, there are pages of notes* organized by story and page order. Upon the appearance of an asterisk in your reading, you can flip to the back, find the reference to the correct page number, and gain more information about the highlighted item. I have no objection to scholarly edification*, but I found this format highly disruptive. The asterisks were not subtle* and they interrupted story flow and enjoyment, crying out, "flip ahead for more information about this thing!" whether I wanted any such thing or not. There were other options: endnotes following each story, or footnotes*, with less obstrusive marks available in either case. There didn't have to be any marks at all; if I felt the need to look for more information about something, I could easily choose my own time to do that. I might seem nitpicky here, but sometimes the asterisks came fast and furious; there were no less than seven in the first paragraph of the first story*. Sometimes they provided valuable information or context, explaining an obscure reference or identifying locations that were part of Machen's own biography. But other times they were literally merely dictionary definitions, or things that didn't require explanation. Like, Benedictine*. At one point, characters drink Benedictine* in a bar. I didn't need an explanation of what Benedictine was, it's still around today! I drank some recently! This was a recurrent irritation, really the only thing marring the experience.
There you go: Machen. Read some of his work.
February 28, 2022
Con este libro de relatos me estreno con Machen y ha sido una grata sorpresa. He descubierto por qué Lovecraft se enamoró de sus obras para posteriormente crear el genial terror cósmico. Lo que más me ha gustado es la ambientación gótica llena de folclore pagano y antigua magia. Un estilo que me recuerda mucho a Algernon Blackwood que también estuvo relacionado con la Orden Hermética de la Golden Dawn. Esperaba mucho más del relato que da título a este libro pero los relatos de La novela del sello negro y La novela del polvo blanco me han entusiasmado. En definitiva una serie de relatos muy bien escogidos para adentrarse en el mundo angustiante/mágico de Arthur Machen.
July 20, 2022
my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined
December 23, 2019
Reading Machen, you feel he must have been a kind of David Lynch for the Victorians, peeling back obfuscation to reveal only more intricate, yet somehow more meaningful obfuscation: “...wonder is of the soul.”
July 1, 2022
I don't feel safe in Machen. This statement feels true in more than one ways. I do not feel safe in his writing. I do not trust his talent. He's a hobbyist with good vocabulary - or a thesaurus, but obviously we give him the benefit of the doubt because he's an all round educated chap. He delves in many different disciplines and forms of art but in none is he an expert, though he appears submerged in intriguing ideas, no doubt influenced by his company of experts and virtuosos. This resulting mediocrity, in my opinion at least, should be the main reason I do not feel at ease reading his otherwise flowy, agreeable prose. But it runs deeper. Thematically in his stories his obsession becomes to lose control... without actually losing control. He is running in a loophole of reason vs the supernatural, yearning for the latter like a gay clever boy for Oscar Wilde. But he remains a Victorian, so he has to cover things up and render them in a (pseudo)scientific girdle. I do not wish to know why his characters appear so sheltered; I feel I would inexpertly tread onto psychoanalytical territory. The point is that in his case the literature suffers from this tension, and his stories almost invariably appear incomplete, much ado about nothing. Not necessarily his fault but repression itself seems to be his medium. Real loss of control, true stakes are never met, and we get pointless discussions instead, and in an exclusively homosocial - male - circle. And there you have it; that's what makes me feel uneasy. Perhaps some female energy, some magic in between the alchemy, some attempt at describing the experience of losing control and entering a state of ecstasy, would provide Machen with the means of catharsis he dishearteningly lacks in his tales. Instead he merely analyses the aftershocks calm and detached like a failed Holmes. And as a reader, I personally feel smothered by the repetition of this formula. Arthur Conan Doyle always makes me feel safe by reverting to reason. I mean pick one, Machen, PICK ONE if you cannot do both!
June 13, 2024
3.5, maybe. The prose too often gets too in the way of the story and of the atmosphere for me.
November 9, 2020
Wordy, rambling, and not much in the way of horror.
October 31, 2020
This selection of novellas and short stories by Welsh writer Arthur Machen (rhymes with Bracken) is a little different from most current horror tales. The Great God Pan and Other Horror Stories has no ghosts or haunts, though it is not devoid of terror. What Machen describes are more ancient forms of existence, such as the faeries and even my ancestors, the Finno-Ugric Turanians, whose manifestations in the present day frequently lead to madness or death.
In this collection are The Great God Pan, perhaps Machen's most famous work, and The Three Impostors, itself a set of what its author calls Milesian tales which are all interconnected. Among the short stories are such classics as "The Red Hand," "The Shining Pyramid," and "The White People." Included is an excellent introduction and detailed notes by editor Aaron Worth.
I must admit that it took me a while to get used to the slow accretion of terror in Machen's stories. It requires some patience and forbearance to get on his wavelength, but it is worth the effort. My only complaint is that his male characters -- his Dysons, Phillipses, and Vaughans -- are all more or less interchangeable, and they do not develop during the telling of the tales. Machen wants you to concentrate on the contact with powerful occult forces that predate Christianity and even Greco-Roman Paganism.
In this collection are The Great God Pan, perhaps Machen's most famous work, and The Three Impostors, itself a set of what its author calls Milesian tales which are all interconnected. Among the short stories are such classics as "The Red Hand," "The Shining Pyramid," and "The White People." Included is an excellent introduction and detailed notes by editor Aaron Worth.
I must admit that it took me a while to get used to the slow accretion of terror in Machen's stories. It requires some patience and forbearance to get on his wavelength, but it is worth the effort. My only complaint is that his male characters -- his Dysons, Phillipses, and Vaughans -- are all more or less interchangeable, and they do not develop during the telling of the tales. Machen wants you to concentrate on the contact with powerful occult forces that predate Christianity and even Greco-Roman Paganism.
June 11, 2020
Es la primera vez que leo a Arthur Machen y debo decir que me fascinó su estilo y no sólo eso, sino también las temáticas que aborda en sus relatos, que no son las historias típicas de fantasmas o asesinos, en cambio se desenvuelve en ellas un ambiente opresivo por una fuerzas superiores y desconocidas por la mayoría; en cada una de estas narraciones breves se deja manifestado el deseo incansable de los seres humanos por lo "Oculto" y todo el poder que este campo inexplorado conlleva, que no es precisamente inofensivo. Machen, ha sido evidentemente una gran influencia para Lovecraft y otros escritores de horror del siglo XX, por su tendencia a lo sobrenatural en un espectro más amplio heredado de sus raíces celtas y que definieron su forma de crear terror.
El Gran Dios Pan - "Existe un mundo real, pero está más allá de esta magia y de esta visión... Más allá de todo eso, como detrás de un velo. Ignoro si algún ser humano ha alzado alguna vez ese velo; pero sí sé, Clarke, que tú y yo lo veremos levantar esta misma noche antes que nadie. Puedes pensar que todo esto es un disparate, que es extraño; pero es verdad. Los antiguos sabían lo que significa levantar el velo. Lo llamaban ver al dios Pan".
El Gran Dios Pan - "Existe un mundo real, pero está más allá de esta magia y de esta visión... Más allá de todo eso, como detrás de un velo. Ignoro si algún ser humano ha alzado alguna vez ese velo; pero sí sé, Clarke, que tú y yo lo veremos levantar esta misma noche antes que nadie. Puedes pensar que todo esto es un disparate, que es extraño; pero es verdad. Los antiguos sabían lo que significa levantar el velo. Lo llamaban ver al dios Pan".
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