Many years ago I saw the movie, “The Dunwich Horror,” which scared the H*** out of me. Some years later, I found out it was based on a story by H. P. Lovecraft (1890-1937), the guru of horror who has influenced virtually every such writer since, from William Peter Blatty to Dean Koontz to Stephen King to…well, you get the drift. Lovecraft wrote mostly about New England, specifically Massachusetts, and at times more specifically Dunwich. I have since read a collection of his stories, all of which are bizarre and at times shocking, but I must admit, many of the endings were abrupt, but easily predictable and characterized by lots of exclamation marks. From a contemporary standpoint, this appears over the top, but one must keep in mind that this was the early phase of such literature.
So in this context, lemmee talk about “Encounters with Enoch Coffin.” I got this from Dark Regions Press as a freebie for a review. I had previously read two stories from this collection and liked them well enough to request the book. Messrs. Pugmire and Thomas have crafted a series of Lovecraftian short stories, with Enoch Coffin (an apropos surname) as the central character in all of them. Enoch is an artist who takes much of his material from weird and at times horrifying dreams, and the stories describe both his artistic process and interactions with him from a variety of individuals, many of whom match his weirdness and horror.
Enoch lives in Massachusetts, which contains, among other cities, Salem (hmmm) and Dunwich (see above). His dreams, and indeed his encounters, are marked by strange sigils or symbols, the meanings of which generally elude him, but which provides a thematic thread among the stories. The writing style is extremely similar to Lovecraft’s, and indeed appears to be a homage to him. Nonetheless, those “abrupt endings” (sans exclamation points) did frustrate me, as I wanted more of a denouement for most of them.
All that said, I must say that Enoch as a character is fascinating and talented and is not afraid to embrace the Dark Side (Darth Vader would be proud). Those with whom he comes in contact are equally strange and seem to have a deep emotional connection to Enoch. Case in point is “Matter of Truth and Death,” in which a friend, Will Ashman, whose wife Shoshona has recently committed suicide. Enoch had, at Will’s request, painted a portrait of Shoshona, which according to Will “made her appear ugly, haunted, close to madness,” which she couldn’t handle. Thus, Will infers that the painting led to her suicide. Subsequently, Will wishes Enoch to paint his portrait next, and in the interchange there are hints of not only an affair between Enoch and Shoshona, but also a sexualized relationship between Enoch and Will. Enoch’s also working on a sculpture and has trouble finishing it because – well, we can’t give EVERYTHING away, can we? As with most of these stories, this one has some further creepiness and what was supposed to be a surprise ending, but really wasn’t. Despite all that, I really enjoyed reading the story.
Another, one of the longer stories, “They Smell of Thunder,” brings Enoch to Dunwich (uh-oh), to illustrate a book of poems by a young man named Xavier Aboth. The story recounts in several passages the story of the Dunwich Horror (I’d suggest you read this and/or see the movie for context) and the Wizard Whately. Dunwich isn’t what you’d call a friendly town, and again Enoch comes across bridges with more of those strange symbols on them; later in the story he comes across lattice work, especially in Whately’s ruined house, that is characterized by brooding, prophetic and not-very-nice happenings. While he’s pretty game for anything weird, Enoch becomes more tangled into this “let the old ones and other nasty gods loose” process than he had planned. And there’s this abrupt ending which was again a frustration for me, but the journey to get there was thoroughly enjoyable. The descriptions of the ruined countryside, ugliness not so deep underneath the topsoil, the continuing influence of Whately, and the overall nastiness of Dunwich (this is quite similar to Mr. King’s writing lovingly of his native Maine and that wacky, creepy town Derry). The next story, “Mystic Articulation,” brings Enoch to Kingsport to recover from his wounds he got from the abrupt encounter with the creature from “They Smell of Thunder.” He’s using a cane because of a leg injury, and he befriends Patricia Olney, proprietress of an occult book store, and Winfield Scot, local poet, who lives in what is described as a sort of haunted house formerly owned by “The Terrible Old Man.” Scot gives Enoch one of the Old Man’s canes, which is inscribed by those by-now-familiar mysterious sigils, which, darn it, match those on stones on Scot’s property. Well, old Enoch’s curiosity and sense of adventure bring him to meet up with not only some creepy winged creatures conjured up by Enoch’s use of the walking stick, but he also finds out Ms. Olney’s true identity. Good story, although Enoch seems to lose consciousness during a good many of these encounters, waking up in Scot’s or Patricia’s presence. Well, as he says to one of the townspeople, “My wild ways aid my art.”
The most enjoyable one for me was “Every Exquisite Thing,” taken from a cited Oscar Wilde quote, “Behind every exquisite thing that exists there is something tragic.” The story itself is about a trip Enoch makes to an apothecary whose back room specializes in sort of “eye of newt, wing of bat” materials that Enoch mixes in with his paints to evoke the macabre emotions behind his paintings. The proprietress is a mysterious woman named Jiao, who, she says, is related to the former owner and Enoch’s “go to guy,” Shin. Jiao says that Shin had died some time ago. That’s all I’m gonna reveal, ‘cause there are some real surprises here, more than one. Fun story.
Another fun one is “Ecstasy in Aberration,” in which Enoch travels to Innsmouth, a seaside town, to paint a portrait of Gerhard Speare, a poet who has ventured into short stories. Along the way, he meets Nesa Katt, who works at the Wiccan shop in Arkham (see above); in response to Enoch’s query as to whether she’s a witch, she responds that her reason for working there is that “it’s way cool. I like to fuck warlocks, you know, and have hot wax spilled on me and all that cool stuff. Razor blades and bite marks.” Eventually Enoch meets up with Adrianna Bishop, a mysterious woman who has Nesa in her employ. Adrianna explains to Enoch that Innsmouth is a gathering place from immortals from “The Deep,” who come out of the sea once a year for a rather primitive ceremony called “The Surge.” While in Adrianna’s presence, Enoch cuts a sigil into his arm, and Adrianna comments, “You know certainly, that the smell of mortal blood has a way of intoxicating They who linger between dimensions.” I’ve already given away perhaps too much of this story, but let’s say the progression and denouement are quite satisfying. It should be mentioned that the immortal creatures are referred to several times throughout this book; in the following story, “Shadow Puppets,” they are described as “shoggoths, the Army of the Deep Ones. The servants of the otherworldly Elder Things, servants that Enoch had read had ultimately turned against their masters and annihilated them.” This is another of the threads that bind these stories together.
“Fearless Symmetry” is an important story in this collection for it delves into Enoch’s family history, specifically his parents. His father, Donovan, was an artist of the macabre, though more in the genre of stained glass. His mother Lebanah had disappeared some years ago, when Enoch was young, under mysterious circumstances, and indeed his father was incarcerated in the local State Hospital until he escaped, also under mysterious circumstances. Donovan left his journal for Enoch, especially after seeing Enoch’s penchant for somewhat bizarre and macabre paintings (in this story, Enoch is compared not only to Joel Peter Witkin (a photographer whose images combine the erotic and the bizarre) and Gunther von Hagens (responsible the plasticizing of bodies in the controversial “Body Works” displays), but also to Richard Upton Pickman, a fictional artist (by H.P. Lovecraft, naturally) whose work was also characterized by the macabre and otherworldliness. Donovan had been obsessed with finding “Dreamland,” a series of tunnels beneath town, specifically under the local cemetery, where some variant of “The Others” dwell. This story is told from three points of view; Enoch’s journals, Donovan’s journals and the writing of Joel Knox, who was doing an article on Enoch, including interviews with him and exposure to Donovan’s workshop in Enoch’s basement. The rest of the story is pure entertainment. The last story, “Unto the Child of Woman,” is sort of a sequel and denouement from the previous story, with a sort of added “Dorian Gray” aspect.
I must say that I very much enjoyed this work. The only thing that detracted from it was that it had only one illustration, the cover, by Santiago Caruso, in my Kindle edition, but I have seen a couple of the illustrations that accompany the stories, by Clint Leduc, and would have been grateful to see them. Bravo, Messrs. Pugmire and Thomas! Fine tribute to Mr. Lovecraft. I look forward to future visits with Mr. Coffin.
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