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The Caller of the Black
1971 Arkham House
235 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 1971
15 people are currently reading
179 people want to read
About the author
Brian Lumley
443 books1,361 followersBrian Lumley was born near Newcastle. In 22 years as a Military Policeman he served in many of the Cold War hotspots, including Berlin, as well as Cyprus in partition days. He reached the rank of Sergeant-Major before retiring to Devon to write full-time, and his work was first published in 1970. The vampire series, 'Necroscope', has been translated into ten languages and sold over a million copies worldwide.
He was awarded the World Fantasy Life Achievement Award in 2010.
He was awarded the World Fantasy Life Achievement Award in 2010.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
January 23, 2025
Brian Lumley died earlier this year (RIP, 2 December 1937 - 2 January 2024), at age 86. He's a British horror author most famous for his Necroscope series, but before that (and during, and after) he wrote extensively in the realms of Lovecraft. Lumley was born 9 months after Lovecraft died, leading to speculation of reincarnation in some circles. Lumley was certainly inspired by Lovecraft and the two shared other inspirations too. Lovecraft would probably have been appalled at some of what Lumley did with the Mythos, often lending it to pulp adventures with a heroic tone. Some of it is goofy, some of it remained authentic homage, all of it was enjoyable. I've been planning to reread his Cthulhu Mythos-related material for some time, having collected all the novels in their wonderful Paul Ganley hardcover editions over the years, and although I wanted to finish The Complete Fiction of H.P. Lovecraft first (which I did last week), Lumley's death gave me that little extra push to launch my personal project.
I discovered Lumley haphazardly. It was a time in my mid-twenties when I was feeling all out of sorts; definitely depressed and in a general funk, when I felt the urge to find something shocking, something genuinely horrifying to shake me out of it. I searched the horror section in a used book shop down the road from my apartment for just such a thing. What I found didn't quite fit the bill, but Psychamok with the eyeballs-and-cables cover
caught my attention, with its back jacket copy describing "the Gibbering". It was something different—contagious madness, Nazi-adjacent God-psychics, a strange machine—and although objectively it wasn't very good, I was thrilled by its energy. I went back and picked up more Lumley books, reading his series usually out of order, discovering new titles all the while, and a reader's love flourished.
So here I am, having collected numerous volumes at some expense (they're not horrendous and all available in paperback, but after an early Thriftbooks purchase that netted a surprise limited edition hardcover of The Transition of Titus Crow signed by the author and artist for $3.85, I had to keep going,) ready to dive back in. I've read them all before, at least in paperback, and I'm in the right space to indulge myself in a publication-order re-read, my favorite of all reading orders. My prior experience with The Compleat Crow, printed with in-world chronological order, convinced me of the need to experience the stories in the order that they emerged instead.
I don't have everything Lumley wrote—he has many short stories across decades that appear in diverse sources, most of them available somewhere amidst his many collections—but I have enough to be satisfied. This time. I'll eventually track down the collections that I previously disdained in favour of new and novel-length material, so the next time I feel that Lumley burn, I can do it all over again in even greater style.
If anyone is interested, I posted my intended reading order here: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...#
On with the adventure!
The Caller of the Black (the collection, not to be confused with the included short story of the same title) was published in 1971 by Arkham House. August Derleth took a liking to Lumley's stories right away, printing three of them earlier in the periodical The Arkham Collector. The book's story list is below; other than those three (in bold with original publication dates noted), they were all original to this collection.
A Thing About Cars!
The Cyprus Shell (1968)
Billy's Oak (1969)
The Writer in the Garret
The Caller of the Black
The Mirror of Nitocris
The Night Sea Maid Went Down
The Thing from the Blasted Heath
An Item of Supporting Evidence (1970)
Dylath-Leen
De Marigny's Clock
Ambler's Inspiration
In the Vaults Beneath
The Pearl
I review them below, in publication order:
The Cyprus Shell: 1968; read in anthology Masters of Horror where it conveniently appears first so is readable in entirety via the free preview pages on Amazon. This was the first time I've read this, Lumley's first-ever published story. It's an excellent bizarre tale. Lumley doesn't imitate Lovecraft, but he does adopt a similar story structure, one easily traceable further back to Edgar Allen Poe. Lumley's smooth and efficient prose with an intelligent conversational tone is nothing like Lovecraft's elaborate, archaic style, but still this story has a classic feel to it and could have easily come from an earlier decade. It's an epistolary story and draws heavily on Lumley's own military experience and his love of the Greek Islands, a setting he'll return to many times in his work. (EDIT: Oops, Cyprus isn’t part of Greece! Silly me. But I think he has stories set in both. At least they’re both in the Mediterranean.)
It isn't necessarily a Cthulhu Mythos story. It works perfectly well as a generic tale of horror. The only Mythos linkage is a list of esoteric, forbidden tomes, new but reminiscent of those Lovecraft often cited, especially in his later stories. These same tomes appear again in Lumley's stories, those that are inarguably Mythos-based, so this story can at a minimum be considered Mythos by proxy.
The story recounts the narrator's experience of a fellow soldier's discovery of a new shellfish, a snail in a conical spiked shell, with the ability to hypnotize its pray and lure it into devouring range. The creature does not take kindly to being disturbed, and the outcome is wonderfully imaginative.
Leviticus 11: 10, 11 is aptly cited in the story. It reads: And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you: 11 They shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcasses in abomination.
Billy's Oak: 1968. The final, titular part of the story is weak. Spoiler: ghost tree. But the rest does some hefty groundwork, introducing us to Lumley's indefatigable hero, the aristocratic occult investigator Titus Crow, along with his Blowne House residence and de Marigny's clock. All of this, plus other related stories in this collection, will launch Lumley's second novel and first series, The Burrowers Beneath. In his earliest stories, Lumley is rapidly establishing his own detailed corner of the Cthulhu Mythos.
An Item of Supporting Evidence: 1970. Another early Titus Crow story, I found this one irritating. Crow is shown to be a writer of Cthulhu Mythos stories, and the text indicates that Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard were real people in the story's setting, but Crow is an investigator of the kinds of things they wrote about and invariably proves them real, so was Lovecraft secretly writing non-fiction here? Crow acts like a smarmy jerk, and the ending is also confusing: he unveils a giant creature's skull, which he was using as a paperweight, which would make it quite large since it came from a 10-foot being, and it also says the skull has wings that make good coatracks when no prior physical description of the being supports this.
The Thing about Cars!: Gotta love a story title that uses italics and an exclamation point. It creates a sense of discomfort about the English countryside that other Cthulhu Mythos authors have also exploited. It motors along well enough, then gets increasingly mad in the final parts. The very ending, though, doesn't quite stick the landing. This is a pattern in a string of stories.
The Writer in the Garret: Lumley could be taken to be working out imposter syndrome in this story of a failed writer, reduced to living in slime and eating garbage, stealing discarded stories from someone more talented.
The Caller of the Black: As the story that leant its name to the collection, it had better be good! It was, reasonably. It has malice and energy. It's a Titus Crow story, bringing the count of such up to three. I'm a mixed fan of how Crow solved the problem with research; it's only due to his access to esoteric texts that he found the solution to the looming threat. I would like to revisit the story to check if it made sense at all for Crow to, apparently, have a shower in his den. Still, despite these plot matters, it was the best Crow story to date.
The Mirror of Nitocris: I haven't been impressed so far with the jump-scare-ending stories in this collection, including this one. It's only notable for introducing Henri-Laurent de Marigny, son of Lovecraft minor character Etienne-Laurent de Marigny from Through the Gates of the Silver Key, a sequel story to The Silver Key and one that reveals the later fate of Randolph Carter. Henri-Laurent is a wealthy scion, seemingly exiled or fled from America and living in England. He impulsively purchases the titular mirror at auction. This de Marigny later becomes Titus Crow's sidekick (and mostly stars in his own adventures in The Clock of Dreams and In the Moons of Borea. The former refers to his father's clock, called de Marigny's clock, first seen in Billy's Oak and featured in a later story in this collection.
The Night Sea Maid Went Down:
Like with Cement Surroundings (reviewed in Singers of Strange Songs: A Celebration of Brian Lumley, I am most enjoying Lumley's larger-scale stories, helped by their epistolary format. This one tells of an offshore oil rig that drilled where they probably shouldn't have.
The Thing from the Blasted Heath: Although not explicit, it's clear this draws from Lovecraft's The Colour out of Space. (Inspired by my current Cthulhu Mythos immersion, I'm in queue for the Nick Cage film from the library.) A British collector of oddities imports a bush from the affected region in New England, and horror ensues. It works great as a general horror story, practically Tales from the Crypt-worthy. Audrey II has nothing on this vegetation.
Dylath-Leen: A follow-up to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath with a new Dreamer periodically visiting Dylath-Leen over a period of decades and trying to fight back against the two-point-turbaned, widely-smiling merchants who insert themselves there. I found it a worthy, adventurous successor to Lovecraft's story, and it has me yearning for Lumley's full Dreams series, beginning with Hero of Dreams.
De Marigny's Clock: This mysterious clock-like object (good luck telling time from it), imported from Lovecraft's Through the Gates of the Silver Key, itself a sequel to his Silver Key and The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, and now in the possession of Titus Crow, despite that the original owner's son, Henri-Laurent de Marigny, also lives in town. The two haven't met yet at this point in the narrative assembled across multiple stories. This is my favorite Titus Crow story so far, possibly because he's powerless in it, merely a witness to the horrors that unfold when his home is invaded by armed robbers. The events of this story are referenced whenever the clock comes up in later tales.
Ambler's Inspiration: I enjoyed the framing of the story from life: horror story afficionadoes and a reclusive writer, not a direct parallel but it conjured the whole horror literary scene of Lovecraft's time through Lumley's. The mechanics of the horror piece, involving early research into brainwaves and the like points to Lumley's later Psychomech trilogy.
In the Vaults Beneath: The longest story in the collection, it could have served as the title piece, but I admit that "Caller of the Black" is more evocative and attractive. With this story, I grew in my appreciation for the path that Lumley and other post-Lovecraft Mythos writers crafted from the source material. In Lovecraft's later stories there were cross-references, but it's only after his death that Mythos stories led to active investigators, armed with the knowledge of all that was discovered before and believing in its truth, seeking to add to that knowledge and build an organized defense against all of it. This is the attitude of the Call of Cthulhu RPG, from what little exposure I've had to it, and the understanding I had of it prior to reading the actual Lovecraft stories.
This story directly cites At the Mountains of Madness, The Shadow Out of Time, Cthulhu, and plenty more. Lovecraft's position in this reconceived reality is the same as in An Item of Supporting Evidence but presented much more agreeably, suggesting that he was a ghostwriter of real encounters with the beyond-ancient and unfathomable beings of his later stories. Lumley's own creations, particularly G'harne and the events of Cement Surroundings (which I'm so glad I read first in Singers of Strange Songs: A Celebration of Brian Lumley; it's later expanded into the novel The Burrowers Beneath which came after this collection, so woe to contemporaneous readers who had not come across the magazine the story was first published in.) What I'm saying is that I'm deeply enjoying the consistent world that keeps appearing in these stories.
The ending is appropriate to the plot but mildly disappointing in scope, given the extent of the stories' events to that point.
The Pearl: The collection comes full circle for me, having read The Cyprus Shell first. This story revisits that Mediterranean location, offering us instead some giant oysters rather than a hypnotic sea snail. It all makes me want to plan a vacation there.
THE END.
I discovered Lumley haphazardly. It was a time in my mid-twenties when I was feeling all out of sorts; definitely depressed and in a general funk, when I felt the urge to find something shocking, something genuinely horrifying to shake me out of it. I searched the horror section in a used book shop down the road from my apartment for just such a thing. What I found didn't quite fit the bill, but Psychamok with the eyeballs-and-cables cover
caught my attention, with its back jacket copy describing "the Gibbering". It was something different—contagious madness, Nazi-adjacent God-psychics, a strange machine—and although objectively it wasn't very good, I was thrilled by its energy. I went back and picked up more Lumley books, reading his series usually out of order, discovering new titles all the while, and a reader's love flourished. So here I am, having collected numerous volumes at some expense (they're not horrendous and all available in paperback, but after an early Thriftbooks purchase that netted a surprise limited edition hardcover of The Transition of Titus Crow signed by the author and artist for $3.85, I had to keep going,) ready to dive back in. I've read them all before, at least in paperback, and I'm in the right space to indulge myself in a publication-order re-read, my favorite of all reading orders. My prior experience with The Compleat Crow, printed with in-world chronological order, convinced me of the need to experience the stories in the order that they emerged instead.
I don't have everything Lumley wrote—he has many short stories across decades that appear in diverse sources, most of them available somewhere amidst his many collections—but I have enough to be satisfied. This time. I'll eventually track down the collections that I previously disdained in favour of new and novel-length material, so the next time I feel that Lumley burn, I can do it all over again in even greater style.
If anyone is interested, I posted my intended reading order here: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...#
On with the adventure!
The Caller of the Black (the collection, not to be confused with the included short story of the same title) was published in 1971 by Arkham House. August Derleth took a liking to Lumley's stories right away, printing three of them earlier in the periodical The Arkham Collector. The book's story list is below; other than those three (in bold with original publication dates noted), they were all original to this collection.
A Thing About Cars!
The Cyprus Shell (1968)
Billy's Oak (1969)
The Writer in the Garret
The Caller of the Black
The Mirror of Nitocris
The Night Sea Maid Went Down
The Thing from the Blasted Heath
An Item of Supporting Evidence (1970)
Dylath-Leen
De Marigny's Clock
Ambler's Inspiration
In the Vaults Beneath
The Pearl
I review them below, in publication order:
The Cyprus Shell: 1968; read in anthology Masters of Horror where it conveniently appears first so is readable in entirety via the free preview pages on Amazon. This was the first time I've read this, Lumley's first-ever published story. It's an excellent bizarre tale. Lumley doesn't imitate Lovecraft, but he does adopt a similar story structure, one easily traceable further back to Edgar Allen Poe. Lumley's smooth and efficient prose with an intelligent conversational tone is nothing like Lovecraft's elaborate, archaic style, but still this story has a classic feel to it and could have easily come from an earlier decade. It's an epistolary story and draws heavily on Lumley's own military experience and his love of the Greek Islands, a setting he'll return to many times in his work. (EDIT: Oops, Cyprus isn’t part of Greece! Silly me. But I think he has stories set in both. At least they’re both in the Mediterranean.)
It isn't necessarily a Cthulhu Mythos story. It works perfectly well as a generic tale of horror. The only Mythos linkage is a list of esoteric, forbidden tomes, new but reminiscent of those Lovecraft often cited, especially in his later stories. These same tomes appear again in Lumley's stories, those that are inarguably Mythos-based, so this story can at a minimum be considered Mythos by proxy.
The story recounts the narrator's experience of a fellow soldier's discovery of a new shellfish, a snail in a conical spiked shell, with the ability to hypnotize its pray and lure it into devouring range. The creature does not take kindly to being disturbed, and the outcome is wonderfully imaginative.
Leviticus 11: 10, 11 is aptly cited in the story. It reads: And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you: 11 They shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcasses in abomination.
Billy's Oak: 1968. The final, titular part of the story is weak. Spoiler: ghost tree. But the rest does some hefty groundwork, introducing us to Lumley's indefatigable hero, the aristocratic occult investigator Titus Crow, along with his Blowne House residence and de Marigny's clock. All of this, plus other related stories in this collection, will launch Lumley's second novel and first series, The Burrowers Beneath. In his earliest stories, Lumley is rapidly establishing his own detailed corner of the Cthulhu Mythos.
An Item of Supporting Evidence: 1970. Another early Titus Crow story, I found this one irritating. Crow is shown to be a writer of Cthulhu Mythos stories, and the text indicates that Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard were real people in the story's setting, but Crow is an investigator of the kinds of things they wrote about and invariably proves them real, so was Lovecraft secretly writing non-fiction here? Crow acts like a smarmy jerk, and the ending is also confusing: he unveils a giant creature's skull, which he was using as a paperweight, which would make it quite large since it came from a 10-foot being, and it also says the skull has wings that make good coatracks when no prior physical description of the being supports this.
The Thing about Cars!: Gotta love a story title that uses italics and an exclamation point. It creates a sense of discomfort about the English countryside that other Cthulhu Mythos authors have also exploited. It motors along well enough, then gets increasingly mad in the final parts. The very ending, though, doesn't quite stick the landing. This is a pattern in a string of stories.
The Writer in the Garret: Lumley could be taken to be working out imposter syndrome in this story of a failed writer, reduced to living in slime and eating garbage, stealing discarded stories from someone more talented.
The Caller of the Black: As the story that leant its name to the collection, it had better be good! It was, reasonably. It has malice and energy. It's a Titus Crow story, bringing the count of such up to three. I'm a mixed fan of how Crow solved the problem with research; it's only due to his access to esoteric texts that he found the solution to the looming threat. I would like to revisit the story to check if it made sense at all for Crow to, apparently, have a shower in his den. Still, despite these plot matters, it was the best Crow story to date.
The Mirror of Nitocris: I haven't been impressed so far with the jump-scare-ending stories in this collection, including this one. It's only notable for introducing Henri-Laurent de Marigny, son of Lovecraft minor character Etienne-Laurent de Marigny from Through the Gates of the Silver Key, a sequel story to The Silver Key and one that reveals the later fate of Randolph Carter. Henri-Laurent is a wealthy scion, seemingly exiled or fled from America and living in England. He impulsively purchases the titular mirror at auction. This de Marigny later becomes Titus Crow's sidekick (and mostly stars in his own adventures in The Clock of Dreams and In the Moons of Borea. The former refers to his father's clock, called de Marigny's clock, first seen in Billy's Oak and featured in a later story in this collection.
The Night Sea Maid Went Down:
Like with Cement Surroundings (reviewed in Singers of Strange Songs: A Celebration of Brian Lumley, I am most enjoying Lumley's larger-scale stories, helped by their epistolary format. This one tells of an offshore oil rig that drilled where they probably shouldn't have.
The Thing from the Blasted Heath: Although not explicit, it's clear this draws from Lovecraft's The Colour out of Space. (Inspired by my current Cthulhu Mythos immersion, I'm in queue for the Nick Cage film from the library.) A British collector of oddities imports a bush from the affected region in New England, and horror ensues. It works great as a general horror story, practically Tales from the Crypt-worthy. Audrey II has nothing on this vegetation.
Dylath-Leen: A follow-up to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath with a new Dreamer periodically visiting Dylath-Leen over a period of decades and trying to fight back against the two-point-turbaned, widely-smiling merchants who insert themselves there. I found it a worthy, adventurous successor to Lovecraft's story, and it has me yearning for Lumley's full Dreams series, beginning with Hero of Dreams.
De Marigny's Clock: This mysterious clock-like object (good luck telling time from it), imported from Lovecraft's Through the Gates of the Silver Key, itself a sequel to his Silver Key and The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, and now in the possession of Titus Crow, despite that the original owner's son, Henri-Laurent de Marigny, also lives in town. The two haven't met yet at this point in the narrative assembled across multiple stories. This is my favorite Titus Crow story so far, possibly because he's powerless in it, merely a witness to the horrors that unfold when his home is invaded by armed robbers. The events of this story are referenced whenever the clock comes up in later tales.
Ambler's Inspiration: I enjoyed the framing of the story from life: horror story afficionadoes and a reclusive writer, not a direct parallel but it conjured the whole horror literary scene of Lovecraft's time through Lumley's. The mechanics of the horror piece, involving early research into brainwaves and the like points to Lumley's later Psychomech trilogy.
In the Vaults Beneath: The longest story in the collection, it could have served as the title piece, but I admit that "Caller of the Black" is more evocative and attractive. With this story, I grew in my appreciation for the path that Lumley and other post-Lovecraft Mythos writers crafted from the source material. In Lovecraft's later stories there were cross-references, but it's only after his death that Mythos stories led to active investigators, armed with the knowledge of all that was discovered before and believing in its truth, seeking to add to that knowledge and build an organized defense against all of it. This is the attitude of the Call of Cthulhu RPG, from what little exposure I've had to it, and the understanding I had of it prior to reading the actual Lovecraft stories.
This story directly cites At the Mountains of Madness, The Shadow Out of Time, Cthulhu, and plenty more. Lovecraft's position in this reconceived reality is the same as in An Item of Supporting Evidence but presented much more agreeably, suggesting that he was a ghostwriter of real encounters with the beyond-ancient and unfathomable beings of his later stories. Lumley's own creations, particularly G'harne and the events of Cement Surroundings (which I'm so glad I read first in Singers of Strange Songs: A Celebration of Brian Lumley; it's later expanded into the novel The Burrowers Beneath which came after this collection, so woe to contemporaneous readers who had not come across the magazine the story was first published in.) What I'm saying is that I'm deeply enjoying the consistent world that keeps appearing in these stories.
The ending is appropriate to the plot but mildly disappointing in scope, given the extent of the stories' events to that point.
The Pearl: The collection comes full circle for me, having read The Cyprus Shell first. This story revisits that Mediterranean location, offering us instead some giant oysters rather than a hypnotic sea snail. It all makes me want to plan a vacation there.
THE END.
June 15, 2017
El británico Brian Lumley es conocido por sus Crónicas Necrománticas, pero también por sus relatos del ocultista Titus Crow, experto en lo sobrenatural, de los cuáles la presente antología ofrece unos cuantos.
‘El visitante nocturno’ (The Caller of the Black, 1971), contiene catorce relatos, la mayoría lovecraftianos, algo que ya me gana de por sí, todos ellos con un golpe de efecto final para dejar en shock al lector.
¡Obsesión por los coches!. (*****) Extraño relato sobre un hombre, que tras varias pérdidas personales, desarrolla una atracción malsana por los coches.
La concha de Chipre. (****) El protagonista escribe una carta explicando el abandono de la compañía en la que trabajaba, que tiene relación con lo que encontró buceando.
El roble de Bill. (****) El protagonista visita la apartada casa de Titus Crow, donde este le contará una historia sobre cierto árbol.
El escritor del desván. (*****) El protagonista, viendo que sus escritos son rechazados, encuentra un buen día ciertos papeles de otro escritor en ciernes.
El Visitante Nocturno. (*****) Un hombre, en estado tembloroso, se presenta en casa de Crow pidiendo ayuda.
El espejo de Nitocris. (*****) De Marigny adquiere en subasta el tan ansiado espejo, que oculta un oscuro secreto.
La noche en que se hundió la “Sea-Maid”. (****) El único superviviente de la plataforma de perforación marítima Sea-Maid, relata lo que aconteció realmente.
La cosa del brezal marchito. (****) El protagonista nos cuenta qué pasó cuando adquirió una extraña planta de la zona de Arkham.
La prueba. (****) Ante el escepticismo del artista Chandler Davies, Crow le invita a su casa, donde le mostrará una prueba.
Dylath-Leen. (****) El protagonista es un soñador, a la manera de Randolph Carter, y nos contará qué paso en la ciudad de Dylath-Leen.
El reloj de De Marigny. (****) Un par de ladrones entran en la casa de Titus Crow en busca de dinero, cuando se fijan en cierto reloj.
La inspiración de Ambler. (****) Ambler es un famoso escritor de relatos de terror. Pero, ¿de dónde le viene la inspiración?
En las bóvedas subterráneas. (*****) El protagonista y dos amigos, buscan pruebas de la existencia de una milenaria ciudad.
La perla. (***) El joven Johnny regresa a Chipre, donde conoció a Costas, un pescador, que siempre andaba contando historias sobre perlas gigantes.
‘El visitante nocturno’ (The Caller of the Black, 1971), contiene catorce relatos, la mayoría lovecraftianos, algo que ya me gana de por sí, todos ellos con un golpe de efecto final para dejar en shock al lector.
¡Obsesión por los coches!. (*****) Extraño relato sobre un hombre, que tras varias pérdidas personales, desarrolla una atracción malsana por los coches.
La concha de Chipre. (****) El protagonista escribe una carta explicando el abandono de la compañía en la que trabajaba, que tiene relación con lo que encontró buceando.
El roble de Bill. (****) El protagonista visita la apartada casa de Titus Crow, donde este le contará una historia sobre cierto árbol.
El escritor del desván. (*****) El protagonista, viendo que sus escritos son rechazados, encuentra un buen día ciertos papeles de otro escritor en ciernes.
El Visitante Nocturno. (*****) Un hombre, en estado tembloroso, se presenta en casa de Crow pidiendo ayuda.
El espejo de Nitocris. (*****) De Marigny adquiere en subasta el tan ansiado espejo, que oculta un oscuro secreto.
La noche en que se hundió la “Sea-Maid”. (****) El único superviviente de la plataforma de perforación marítima Sea-Maid, relata lo que aconteció realmente.
La cosa del brezal marchito. (****) El protagonista nos cuenta qué pasó cuando adquirió una extraña planta de la zona de Arkham.
La prueba. (****) Ante el escepticismo del artista Chandler Davies, Crow le invita a su casa, donde le mostrará una prueba.
Dylath-Leen. (****) El protagonista es un soñador, a la manera de Randolph Carter, y nos contará qué paso en la ciudad de Dylath-Leen.
El reloj de De Marigny. (****) Un par de ladrones entran en la casa de Titus Crow en busca de dinero, cuando se fijan en cierto reloj.
La inspiración de Ambler. (****) Ambler es un famoso escritor de relatos de terror. Pero, ¿de dónde le viene la inspiración?
En las bóvedas subterráneas. (*****) El protagonista y dos amigos, buscan pruebas de la existencia de una milenaria ciudad.
La perla. (***) El joven Johnny regresa a Chipre, donde conoció a Costas, un pescador, que siempre andaba contando historias sobre perlas gigantes.
August 11, 2017
-De segunda división y sin cohesión de grupo en la recopilación.-
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro El visitante nocturno (publicación original: The Caller of the Black, 1971) es una recopilación con catorce relatos del autor que trabajan el horror de formas muy distintas, desde los mitos de Lovecraft al psicológico, pasando por lo sobrenatural e incluso desde la franquicia del propio escritor.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro El visitante nocturno (publicación original: The Caller of the Black, 1971) es una recopilación con catorce relatos del autor que trabajan el horror de formas muy distintas, desde los mitos de Lovecraft al psicológico, pasando por lo sobrenatural e incluso desde la franquicia del propio escritor.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...
July 1, 2021
This is a book of short stories that involve Titus Crow, Lumley’s paranormal detective/Earth’s defender against the evil Cthulhu Mythos creatures.
This, with The Compleat Crow, gather all, if not most every Crow story in one (ok two) collections.
If you’re a Lovecraft fan or cosmic horror in general, check this out.
This, with The Compleat Crow, gather all, if not most every Crow story in one (ok two) collections.
If you’re a Lovecraft fan or cosmic horror in general, check this out.
November 15, 2020
Great Lovecraftian short stories
Been a fan of Brian Lumley 's short stories for a long time. I thought I had read all of them so was surprised to find this collection. Worth the read.
Been a fan of Brian Lumley 's short stories for a long time. I thought I had read all of them so was surprised to find this collection. Worth the read.
July 16, 2020
Compendio irregular de "historias de terror" o, en la mayoría de casos, "historias de suspense". Y lo pongo entre comillas porque la gran mayoría de estos cuentos son olvidables.
La mayoría de estas obras poseen demasiadas páginas para que al final (en las últimas 2 líneas) te ofrezcan una especie de plot twist macabro o sorpresivo pero que, con tanta parrafada se te van hasta las ganas. Demasiado tiempo perdido para un acontecimiento que de terror, poco tiene. Igual como historias de suspense pues ok, pero ni te traumas ni te mandas cagasos.
Sin embargo, sí que hay unos 2 o 3 historias que se te quedan para la posteridad, para el recuerdo.
La mayoría de estas obras poseen demasiadas páginas para que al final (en las últimas 2 líneas) te ofrezcan una especie de plot twist macabro o sorpresivo pero que, con tanta parrafada se te van hasta las ganas. Demasiado tiempo perdido para un acontecimiento que de terror, poco tiene. Igual como historias de suspense pues ok, pero ni te traumas ni te mandas cagasos.
Sin embargo, sí que hay unos 2 o 3 historias que se te quedan para la posteridad, para el recuerdo.
January 9, 2022
The Caller of the Black contains stories that commit all kinds of sins to sound and sense. It's a tyro work, and clearly a gamble for any publisher. Still, Derleth's support for Lumley looks prescient today: the author has produced many stories and some novels of real merit, and many more that gave their readers hours of pleasure and escape.
Full: http://jayrothermel.blogspot.com/2022...
Full: http://jayrothermel.blogspot.com/2022...
December 3, 2025
My first experience with Lumley and a very good introduction. This collection of Cthulhu mythos stories seamlessly blends Lumley’s own additions with those already created by Lovecraft and Ramsey Campbell, among others. I’m looking forward to getting into some of his novels.
May 24, 2018
A nice little collection of short stories from Brian Lumley, some which feature his occult investigator Titus Crow.
October 24, 2019
Un libro magnífico de terror, me gusto.....
June 11, 2022
Another fine collection of cosmic horror.
Very enjoyable audio version, excellent voice.
Very enjoyable audio version, excellent voice.
June 11, 2023
Muy buenas historias. Recomendado si sos fanatico de Lovecraft
October 18, 2014
another classic collection of cthulhu mythos fiction from brian lumley. these older short stories show the foundation of later stories and novels from lumley as well as a host of other authors in the mythos. anyone with an interest in lovecraft's fiction should really attempt to track down a copy. lumley does not just borrow from lovecraft, but truly adds to and enriches the genre in a way many mythos writers fail to do. being earlier works, these are pastiches that ring true to lovecraft and don't depart from the central theme of cosmic horror much, but isn't that really all we want in the absence of old hp himself?
January 15, 2009
Lumley's first collection of stories, published by Arkham House in 1971 and out of print for some time. These stories of horror and the macabre are all in the Lovecraftian style, with florid language,and for the most part based on that author's Cthulhu mythos. Like Lovecraft's work, the language tends to be overwrought and a little florid, but the plotting is crisp, the ideas are creative, and, if you are a mythos fan, you're sure to enjoy this collection
May 31, 2014
Brian Lumley no es Lovecraft. Es la versión en tira cómica del Necronomicón.
No obstante es un libro muy disfrutable con cuentos como "La concha de Chipre", "El espejo de Nitocris" y la genial continuación de los cuentos de Lovecfraft en el ciclo de Randolph Carter, "El reloj de Marigny".
Un amante de los mitos de Cthulhu no se lo puede perder.
No obstante es un libro muy disfrutable con cuentos como "La concha de Chipre", "El espejo de Nitocris" y la genial continuación de los cuentos de Lovecfraft en el ciclo de Randolph Carter, "El reloj de Marigny".
Un amante de los mitos de Cthulhu no se lo puede perder.
September 30, 2012
Few moments of blissful suspense and implied terror, a page turner, it does not make. But there is a kind of dusty charm from a time before jaded mysticism was used to sell toothpaste. Thanks Tara
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