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Medusa: A Novel of Mystery, Ecstasy and Strange Horror
Bristol, the early eighteenth century. On the run following a fatal accident at school, the orphan Will Harvell joins a voyage setting sail in search of a mariner’s missing son. But the mystery of his disappearance harbours a deeper secret; a dark current pulling the crew ever closer to an ancient Gorgonian terror of the ocean.
Combining elements of Conradian sea adventure, Atlantean mythology and sublime horror, Medusa was first published in 1929 and achieved cult classic status in the late twentieth century as a neglected masterpiece of weird fiction.
Combining elements of Conradian sea adventure, Atlantean mythology and sublime horror, Medusa was first published in 1929 and achieved cult classic status in the late twentieth century as a neglected masterpiece of weird fiction.
223 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1929
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About the author
E.H. Visiak
202 books16 followersEdward Harold Physick was an English writer, known chiefly as a critic and authority on John Milton; also a poet and fantasy writer. He used the pseudonym E.H. Visiak from 1910.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
October 16, 2025
3.5 stars
This is a 1929 novel that is still little known, published in the Tales of the Weird series. Visiak was a Milton scholar and this shows: the penultimate chapter is entitled Gorgonian horror, a phrase from Paradise Lost. Visiak also wrote poetry in opposition to World War One and was a conscientious objector.
It is essentially a nautical tale with odd goings on in the tropics. It is very well regarded in some circles. Karl Wagner when compiling collections of supernatural tales declared it one of the “13 best supernatural horror novels. Wagner, getting somewhat carried away also said:
“If David Lindsay had written Treasure Island in the throes of a peyote-induced religious experience … well if Coleridge had given Melville a hand on Moby Dick after a few pipes of opium …”
And also:
“John Milton may have popped round on his way home from an opium den to help {Visiak} revise the final draft.”
“the probable outcome of Herman Melville having written Treasure Island while tripping on LSD,”
There’s more in that vein. Others have described it as a nightmare almost recollected.
There is a good deal of messing about on boats and going to sea to avoid difficult home circumstances. So far so Conrad. There is a long build up to the last few chapters where all the odd and hallucinogenic stuff happens. The style is archaic and it does feel like it could have been written a century earlier.
The story itself doesn’t quite live up to the rather grand billing above. The odd parts are suitably odd and do feel hallucinogenic rather than supernatural.
This is a 1929 novel that is still little known, published in the Tales of the Weird series. Visiak was a Milton scholar and this shows: the penultimate chapter is entitled Gorgonian horror, a phrase from Paradise Lost. Visiak also wrote poetry in opposition to World War One and was a conscientious objector.
It is essentially a nautical tale with odd goings on in the tropics. It is very well regarded in some circles. Karl Wagner when compiling collections of supernatural tales declared it one of the “13 best supernatural horror novels. Wagner, getting somewhat carried away also said:
“If David Lindsay had written Treasure Island in the throes of a peyote-induced religious experience … well if Coleridge had given Melville a hand on Moby Dick after a few pipes of opium …”
And also:
“John Milton may have popped round on his way home from an opium den to help {Visiak} revise the final draft.”
“the probable outcome of Herman Melville having written Treasure Island while tripping on LSD,”
There’s more in that vein. Others have described it as a nightmare almost recollected.
There is a good deal of messing about on boats and going to sea to avoid difficult home circumstances. So far so Conrad. There is a long build up to the last few chapters where all the odd and hallucinogenic stuff happens. The style is archaic and it does feel like it could have been written a century earlier.
The story itself doesn’t quite live up to the rather grand billing above. The odd parts are suitably odd and do feel hallucinogenic rather than supernatural.
January 12, 2024
This was a strange book, most famously enthused over by Karl Edward Wagner as "Treasure Island on acid" - it strikes me more as TREASURE ISLAND as written by William Hope Hodgson if he were a Milton scholar.
Because the author WAS a scholar of the works of John Milton, and so here seems to have tried to combine the juvenile sea-adventure of Stevenson with the religious symbology of Milton, bringing forth something like the weird nautical world of Hodgson in which the varied strange threats from the ocean can be seen as exemplars of a seductive Evil.
We follow young Will through his turbulent childhood (surviving a shipwreck that killed his parents, and the tyrannical rule of his Grandfather - who he may have accidentally killed - only to be sent off to school, which he flees after possibly fatally injuring a bully) until he finds himself on the open road, befriended by a dubious sea-faring character, Obadaiah Moon, who offers to pay him to deliver a letter to a Mr. John Huxtable. Huxtable takes Will under his wing (finding the boy very like his missing son, who has been kidnapped by Chinese pirates), they flee a deliberately set fire (and the drugging of Huxtable's sailors) to hook up with a ship captained by Blythe and First Mate Mr. Falconer (a dour and melancholy, yet oddly childlike man), in order to return to meet the pirates and relay payment for Huxtable's son. After some travel and various misadventures (and much spectral sea-lore being discussed, and whether it is real or imagined) they come across the pirate ship they hoped to rendezvous with, but it proves deserted (Marie Celeste-like) with its treasure still in the hold. Soon the characters will have to contend with the only survivor of the ship desertion (Mr. Vertembrex, who rarely speaks and just threads beads), a legend of "The Rock Pillar" last remnant of submerged civilization near Ceylon that was sunk for challenging God and Nature with "strange rays" that effected the senses, sailing under strange skies and into stranger waters, the Black Lagoon/Deep One styled "Sea Devils," and eventually a dark watery pit wherein dwells a tentacled monstrosity....
Now, that sounds pretty exciting, huh? Well, it is...interesting, but the book is laid out in such a way that it's a long ramp up to an explosive (and to some degree unsatisfying) ending. There are all kinds of interesting details that make sure it is never dull and the various characters seem to occupy symbolic roles/personality types as well (the fatherly and thoughtful/faithful Huxtable often clashes with the fiery, impulsive and passionate Captain Blaise, who berates the friendly but melancholic Falconer, who chides the superstitious Moon, etc. etc. ) although our main character, Will, starts as a singular figure (the accidental death of his grandfather, and possible death of the school bully, are followed by an early decision that he will make his life as a highwayman if he must, killing strangers for their wealth) but eventually just kind of becomes the "identifier" who observes all these happenings (and presumably is soaking up the moral lessons). There's a lot about nautical superstition and how it can lead you astray (a sailor kills a dolphin, only to be told that he is now cursed, but that just may be something made up to frighten him), with a marvelous bit where Will thinks he sees a ghost on board, only to realize it is Moon, than HE HIMSELF is mistaken for a ghost by the other sailors.
Huxtable, ostensibly our moral lynch-pin, frowns upon the shore-leave sailors consorting with black prostitutes, and has conflicted feelings about "Papists" as well, while waxing philosophical about how storm clouds are like the passionate clouds that envelop and obscure men's souls.
The Sea Devils ("Sea Savages"), presumed survivors of a lost civilization, and the final monstrous creature are probably the biggest draw here for interested readers at this late date. And while they are presented as "real" in the narrative, they also serve a highly symbolic role ("moral degradation" and the "monstrous feminine," respectively) which perhaps say more, I think, about the author himself than the modern world. I did like that Moon had nicknamed his pet Sea Devil "Jerry" - it's just such an odd choice, and made me chuckle!
All in all this is an uneven and ramshackle, but not uninteresting, text - not anything you need to rush out and read but if you dig Nautical horrors and sea adventure stories, it wouldn't hurt. (Also included was "Medusan Madness", a short story about individuals in an asylum, one describing to the other how he ended up there after an encounter with a strange female figure who walked across the open ocean towards his yacht. It's a good set-up, with an abrupt & opaque resolution.)
Because the author WAS a scholar of the works of John Milton, and so here seems to have tried to combine the juvenile sea-adventure of Stevenson with the religious symbology of Milton, bringing forth something like the weird nautical world of Hodgson in which the varied strange threats from the ocean can be seen as exemplars of a seductive Evil.
We follow young Will through his turbulent childhood (surviving a shipwreck that killed his parents, and the tyrannical rule of his Grandfather - who he may have accidentally killed - only to be sent off to school, which he flees after possibly fatally injuring a bully) until he finds himself on the open road, befriended by a dubious sea-faring character, Obadaiah Moon, who offers to pay him to deliver a letter to a Mr. John Huxtable. Huxtable takes Will under his wing (finding the boy very like his missing son, who has been kidnapped by Chinese pirates), they flee a deliberately set fire (and the drugging of Huxtable's sailors) to hook up with a ship captained by Blythe and First Mate Mr. Falconer (a dour and melancholy, yet oddly childlike man), in order to return to meet the pirates and relay payment for Huxtable's son. After some travel and various misadventures (and much spectral sea-lore being discussed, and whether it is real or imagined) they come across the pirate ship they hoped to rendezvous with, but it proves deserted (Marie Celeste-like) with its treasure still in the hold. Soon the characters will have to contend with the only survivor of the ship desertion (Mr. Vertembrex, who rarely speaks and just threads beads), a legend of "The Rock Pillar" last remnant of submerged civilization near Ceylon that was sunk for challenging God and Nature with "strange rays" that effected the senses, sailing under strange skies and into stranger waters, the Black Lagoon/Deep One styled "Sea Devils," and eventually a dark watery pit wherein dwells a tentacled monstrosity....
Now, that sounds pretty exciting, huh? Well, it is...interesting, but the book is laid out in such a way that it's a long ramp up to an explosive (and to some degree unsatisfying) ending. There are all kinds of interesting details that make sure it is never dull and the various characters seem to occupy symbolic roles/personality types as well (the fatherly and thoughtful/faithful Huxtable often clashes with the fiery, impulsive and passionate Captain Blaise, who berates the friendly but melancholic Falconer, who chides the superstitious Moon, etc. etc. ) although our main character, Will, starts as a singular figure (the accidental death of his grandfather, and possible death of the school bully, are followed by an early decision that he will make his life as a highwayman if he must, killing strangers for their wealth) but eventually just kind of becomes the "identifier" who observes all these happenings (and presumably is soaking up the moral lessons). There's a lot about nautical superstition and how it can lead you astray (a sailor kills a dolphin, only to be told that he is now cursed, but that just may be something made up to frighten him), with a marvelous bit where Will thinks he sees a ghost on board, only to realize it is Moon, than HE HIMSELF is mistaken for a ghost by the other sailors.
Huxtable, ostensibly our moral lynch-pin, frowns upon the shore-leave sailors consorting with black prostitutes, and has conflicted feelings about "Papists" as well, while waxing philosophical about how storm clouds are like the passionate clouds that envelop and obscure men's souls.
The Sea Devils ("Sea Savages"), presumed survivors of a lost civilization, and the final monstrous creature are probably the biggest draw here for interested readers at this late date. And while they are presented as "real" in the narrative, they also serve a highly symbolic role ("moral degradation" and the "monstrous feminine," respectively) which perhaps say more, I think, about the author himself than the modern world. I did like that Moon had nicknamed his pet Sea Devil "Jerry" - it's just such an odd choice, and made me chuckle!
All in all this is an uneven and ramshackle, but not uninteresting, text - not anything you need to rush out and read but if you dig Nautical horrors and sea adventure stories, it wouldn't hurt. (Also included was "Medusan Madness", a short story about individuals in an asylum, one describing to the other how he ended up there after an encounter with a strange female figure who walked across the open ocean towards his yacht. It's a good set-up, with an abrupt & opaque resolution.)
September 26, 2017
Known today mainly due to Karl Edward Wagner’s over-the-top praise, mystique of which was further accented by how hard it was to actually track down a copy of the damn thing, “Medusa“ is really a victim of its hype.
Regular horror novel it certainly isn't, nor is it mainly a horror novel, nor is it likely to satisfy those interested mainly in the horror/weird fiction aspect of it. “Ecstasy and strange horror“ from the original subtitle are present only in the last couple of chapters, with overtly fantastic incidents being present only from around 14th-15th chapter. You shall find neither Hodgson (even tho finale has some Hodgson-like imagery) nor Poe‘s “Arthur Gordon Pym“ (even tho fantastic is left for the end of the narrative, its largest part is far from grotesque) here.
For the longest part, this is picturesque narrative of young man‘s coming of age and of, for the largest part, idyllic sea journey. It is written in quaint yet elegant archaic prose – think Hodgson‘s “The Night Land“ if Hodgson had infinitely better mastery of that 17th century language – that I found to be evocative and , at times, beautiful once I got into the rhythm of it, but that most certainly be a stumbling block for a fair number of readers (it was so even on its initial release, by all accounts). Entire narrative has this slightly dreamlike covering, with odd incidents popping out every now and then (they are mostly explained, later on), with certain characters assuming almost archetypal roles in relation to our narrator. Even tho, again, there is nothing horrific going on for the most part, knowledge of this inevitable catastrophe gives this feeling of subtle mounting dread to all of it.
Beneath this, we find spiritual allegory, one that is made perhaps too overt in the 19th chapter (what with the invocation of the story of Psyche and Eros and of The Fall, and placing of the following take on the Atlantis legend in that context) – while this gives definite context and meaning to what follows, it takes away from the horror and mystery of it even if imagery remains memorable and unearthly. Likewise, Jungians will certainly have much to mull over here.
Finale is oft compared to The Call of Cthulhu. Well, yeah, we have this giant tentacled thing, and that is where the surface similarities end. More apt comparisons, among HPL‘s fiction, are “The Shadow over Innsmouth“, „Dagon“ and „From Beyond“, both in relation to the final vision and to Mr. Huxtable‘s narrative that it gave it some context in the preceding chapter. Tho, these are, again, limited comparisons, even if most folks will understand them if they happen to read this novel.
In the end, those coming to it due to KEW will likely be sorely disappointed, those who could appreciate its allegorical element likely won’t even hear of it nor will they, perhaps, find that element to be as satisfying as it is in the works of some of Visiak‘s contemporaries, those enjoying narratives of the high seas have a vast amount of better ones to go to. For a small number of readers, all of this will perhaps click together in this satisfying way, as it did for me. If nothing else, it is hard not to respect the sheer uncompromising uniqueness of this novel and the individuality of its author.
Regular horror novel it certainly isn't, nor is it mainly a horror novel, nor is it likely to satisfy those interested mainly in the horror/weird fiction aspect of it. “Ecstasy and strange horror“ from the original subtitle are present only in the last couple of chapters, with overtly fantastic incidents being present only from around 14th-15th chapter. You shall find neither Hodgson (even tho finale has some Hodgson-like imagery) nor Poe‘s “Arthur Gordon Pym“ (even tho fantastic is left for the end of the narrative, its largest part is far from grotesque) here.
For the longest part, this is picturesque narrative of young man‘s coming of age and of, for the largest part, idyllic sea journey. It is written in quaint yet elegant archaic prose – think Hodgson‘s “The Night Land“ if Hodgson had infinitely better mastery of that 17th century language – that I found to be evocative and , at times, beautiful once I got into the rhythm of it, but that most certainly be a stumbling block for a fair number of readers (it was so even on its initial release, by all accounts). Entire narrative has this slightly dreamlike covering, with odd incidents popping out every now and then (they are mostly explained, later on), with certain characters assuming almost archetypal roles in relation to our narrator. Even tho, again, there is nothing horrific going on for the most part, knowledge of this inevitable catastrophe gives this feeling of subtle mounting dread to all of it.
Beneath this, we find spiritual allegory, one that is made perhaps too overt in the 19th chapter (what with the invocation of the story of Psyche and Eros and of The Fall, and placing of the following take on the Atlantis legend in that context) – while this gives definite context and meaning to what follows, it takes away from the horror and mystery of it even if imagery remains memorable and unearthly. Likewise, Jungians will certainly have much to mull over here.
Finale is oft compared to The Call of Cthulhu. Well, yeah, we have this giant tentacled thing, and that is where the surface similarities end. More apt comparisons, among HPL‘s fiction, are “The Shadow over Innsmouth“, „Dagon“ and „From Beyond“, both in relation to the final vision and to Mr. Huxtable‘s narrative that it gave it some context in the preceding chapter. Tho, these are, again, limited comparisons, even if most folks will understand them if they happen to read this novel.
In the end, those coming to it due to KEW will likely be sorely disappointed, those who could appreciate its allegorical element likely won’t even hear of it nor will they, perhaps, find that element to be as satisfying as it is in the works of some of Visiak‘s contemporaries, those enjoying narratives of the high seas have a vast amount of better ones to go to. For a small number of readers, all of this will perhaps click together in this satisfying way, as it did for me. If nothing else, it is hard not to respect the sheer uncompromising uniqueness of this novel and the individuality of its author.
June 21, 2019
MEDUSA is one of those reads that comes under the heading, "Good For You" - an experience that you just thoroughly don't enjoy when you're in the midst of it. It does live up to its subtitle; it's just not very scary when reading it in the 21st Century. If you come into it expecting a story that will keep you up at night, you're going to be very disappointed.
MEDUSA appears to be a coming-of-age allegory for its narrator, Will Harvell, who starts off the book accidentally killing his grandfather (an unpleasant and abusive man), is shipped off to school where he again accidentally causes the death of a tormentor; is meant for hanging until someone arranges his escape into the Cold, Hard World whereupon through a series of happenstance adventures, he winds up on a sailing ship with an odd crew and even odder adventures, culminating in an encounter with the title creature.
It all sounds far more exciting than it reads; the first really undeniable paranormal incident doesn't happen until Chapter 15 - the start of the last third of the book! The tone of the book is sort of lesser Melville with a hint of lesser Dickens; fortunately, it's not as thick as MOBY DICK, although the allorgical elements are every bit as turgid.
It was worth reading for historical purposes; now that's out of the way, there's no reason to ever read it again.
MEDUSA appears to be a coming-of-age allegory for its narrator, Will Harvell, who starts off the book accidentally killing his grandfather (an unpleasant and abusive man), is shipped off to school where he again accidentally causes the death of a tormentor; is meant for hanging until someone arranges his escape into the Cold, Hard World whereupon through a series of happenstance adventures, he winds up on a sailing ship with an odd crew and even odder adventures, culminating in an encounter with the title creature.
It all sounds far more exciting than it reads; the first really undeniable paranormal incident doesn't happen until Chapter 15 - the start of the last third of the book! The tone of the book is sort of lesser Melville with a hint of lesser Dickens; fortunately, it's not as thick as MOBY DICK, although the allorgical elements are every bit as turgid.
It was worth reading for historical purposes; now that's out of the way, there's no reason to ever read it again.
January 16, 2018
It's difficult to classify this as either horror or fantasy. Karl Edward Wagner in Horror: 100 Best Books described this as 'Herman Melville having written Treasure Island while tripping on LSD.' That's a pretty good description of Medusa, but I think it is more accurate to say it's like the bastard literary lovechild of Herman Melville and H.P. Lovecraft. It begins resembling a fairly mundane 'adventure on the high seas' narrative but as it goes on it develops a rather serious case of the Innsmouth look. Like the movie Unbreakable the narrative is almost nothing but first act that ends abruptly with all hell (quite literally) breaking loose. I found the end result to be worth the slog the first three quarters of the book requires (The narrator chooses an intricate, elevated english to convey his story that reminds me of a nautical dialect of the High Gygaxian or to continue Mr. Wagner's drug metaphor it's like Henry James on a cocktail of steroids and crack. I think there are more semicolons in Medusa than in all the other works of fiction I have read in my lifetime combined) but other readers' mileage may vary. The experience is most likely not worth the high price the book commands on the secondary market for most people but it has stuck with me more than most things that I read.
Tip: If you happen to come across the centipede press edition of Medusa be sure to read Colin Wilson's Preface AFTER you read the novel as it contains some pretty significant spoilers.
Tip: If you happen to come across the centipede press edition of Medusa be sure to read Colin Wilson's Preface AFTER you read the novel as it contains some pretty significant spoilers.
May 30, 2013
Das Grauen aus der Tiefe
Im nachelisabethanischen England zieht es einen Jungen zur See: Durch unglückliche Umstände getrieben, landet er bei einem Ersatzvater, der ihn mit auf seine Suche nach seinem entführten Sohn nimmt. Auf dieser Seereise in den indischen Ozean wird die Geistesgesundheit aller Mitreisenden auf eine starke Probe gestellt...
Das erste, was einem bei der Lektüre dieses Romans einfällt, ist die starke Ähnlichkeit zu Werken H.P. Lovecrafts und E.A. Poes. Der strenge, einfache Stil der Erzählung; der Tempowechsel von äußerst gemächlich zu Beginn bis zum dramatischen Ende; ein völlig realistisches Szenario wird nur durch phantastische Details zum furchterregenden Schrecken; schließlich das Grauen, das sich der Beschreibung entzieht und in den Wahnsinn führt.
Die deutsche Übersetzung überträgt den etwas gestelzten Tagebuchstil sehr gut. Auch die Aufmachung, mit gelungenen Schraffurillustrationen versehen und einem knappen Nachwort über den Autor, weiß zu überzeugen.
Ein sehr beeindruckender Roman, für alle Freunde des gepflegten, stilistischen Horrors ohne Gemetzel und Blut. Lovecraft-Leser können sowieso unbesehen zugreifen und sich wie zuhause fühlen.
Im nachelisabethanischen England zieht es einen Jungen zur See: Durch unglückliche Umstände getrieben, landet er bei einem Ersatzvater, der ihn mit auf seine Suche nach seinem entführten Sohn nimmt. Auf dieser Seereise in den indischen Ozean wird die Geistesgesundheit aller Mitreisenden auf eine starke Probe gestellt...
Das erste, was einem bei der Lektüre dieses Romans einfällt, ist die starke Ähnlichkeit zu Werken H.P. Lovecrafts und E.A. Poes. Der strenge, einfache Stil der Erzählung; der Tempowechsel von äußerst gemächlich zu Beginn bis zum dramatischen Ende; ein völlig realistisches Szenario wird nur durch phantastische Details zum furchterregenden Schrecken; schließlich das Grauen, das sich der Beschreibung entzieht und in den Wahnsinn führt.
Die deutsche Übersetzung überträgt den etwas gestelzten Tagebuchstil sehr gut. Auch die Aufmachung, mit gelungenen Schraffurillustrationen versehen und einem knappen Nachwort über den Autor, weiß zu überzeugen.
Ein sehr beeindruckender Roman, für alle Freunde des gepflegten, stilistischen Horrors ohne Gemetzel und Blut. Lovecraft-Leser können sowieso unbesehen zugreifen und sich wie zuhause fühlen.
May 7, 2020
Fantastic book underappreciated because all the commenters here aren't smart enough to understand the book, or have an agenda in making people reluctant to read it. Go get you a copy, it's a classic
June 9, 2025
It's great to see the Tales of the Weird series commit to finding some lesser known titles to bring back into reprint. Algernon Blackwood's 'The Human Chord' was a first class gem of cosmic weird that has become a favourite of mine. E.H. Visiak's Medusa however slips down that list a little bit for me. It's not so much that it is a bad book by any means because it is not, but if I am looking for nautical horror from that era to re-read, well I have a plethora of William Hope Hodgson short stories, his seminal 'Boats of Glen Carrig' or Lovecraft's 'Dagon' and 'Call of Cthulhu' on tap which are superior in every aspect.
Medusa is a bit of a mish mash of coming of age, nautical adventure, religious awakenings and deep sea horror. Karl Edward Wagner who was a big fan of this book describes it as "If David Lindsay had written Treasure Island in the throes of a peyote-induced religious experience". However, the excellent introduction by Aaron Worth links the story more to the author's background which on reading, I have to concur with.
One of the main issues with the book is that the nautical adventure stuff is all rather mundane by this point and very little out of the ordinary happens until the final third and the big reveal isn't until the penultimate chapter. However, the supernatural atmosphere is very good when it hits - we get great descriptions of eerie natural phenomena and some strangely familiar sounding Lovecraftian-style creatures. The characters all do their part as well with perhaps more flamboyence than to be expected, although the writing and dialogue in particular is let down with a "homely" or archaic styling. On top of that, some of the philosophising and mythological allegories serve to dilute the horror when it comes by attempting to explain it, rather than let it hit with the impact it deserved.
It's certainly worth a read if you are a completionist when it comes to early cosmic horror or supernatural weird, but it's not a must read classic either. As the editor of the introduction says, sometimes the fun is just in discovering such forgotten books - and as a collector of many such works, I firmly agree.
Medusa is a bit of a mish mash of coming of age, nautical adventure, religious awakenings and deep sea horror. Karl Edward Wagner who was a big fan of this book describes it as "If David Lindsay had written Treasure Island in the throes of a peyote-induced religious experience". However, the excellent introduction by Aaron Worth links the story more to the author's background which on reading, I have to concur with.
One of the main issues with the book is that the nautical adventure stuff is all rather mundane by this point and very little out of the ordinary happens until the final third and the big reveal isn't until the penultimate chapter. However, the supernatural atmosphere is very good when it hits - we get great descriptions of eerie natural phenomena and some strangely familiar sounding Lovecraftian-style creatures. The characters all do their part as well with perhaps more flamboyence than to be expected, although the writing and dialogue in particular is let down with a "homely" or archaic styling. On top of that, some of the philosophising and mythological allegories serve to dilute the horror when it comes by attempting to explain it, rather than let it hit with the impact it deserved.
It's certainly worth a read if you are a completionist when it comes to early cosmic horror or supernatural weird, but it's not a must read classic either. As the editor of the introduction says, sometimes the fun is just in discovering such forgotten books - and as a collector of many such works, I firmly agree.
May 4, 2025
I don't really know how to review this. I enjoyed it, but it felt like a pastiche due to the tone of narration - so similar to the "Well, since you ask me for a tale of mystery and suspense..." character at the end of every episode of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme on Radio 4. Not sure I'd call It horror, maybe due to its age? It could have been scarier without the convoluted first person narration, but that narration gave it a certain charm.
August 10, 2022
Ahoy, shipmates! And welcome to me very own MEDUSA Fun-Time Quiz!
You are E. H. Visiak, noted authority on the life and work of John Milton. You intend to write a tale of "mystery, and ecstasy, & strange horror". Very well, then. Do you --
1] Conjure up an atmosphere of mystery through the careful employment of verbal effects?
2] Suggest a mood of ecstasy through elaborately detailed sensual impressions?
3] Induce a strange horror in the reader by eschewing mystery, ecstasy, vivid description, local colour, suspense, spectral atmosphere and characters with character?
You are a young lad on a sea voyage into the Unknown. En route, which is your most remarkable adventurous experience?
1] You glimpse a volcano, briefly, through the distant haze.
2] You buy a parrot.
3] You study Latin.
You are the owner of a ship at sea, and your crew has sighted a monster on board! Do you --
1] Search the ship to find the monster?
2] Question the pirate passenger who was seen many times, on land, accompanied by a monster?
3] Do *nothing* -- and tell the crew to trust in God?
You, the author, have just revealed the monster. How will you sabotage the dramatic effect of this "savage strange hideous creature"?
1] Have the monster knock on the door and... walk away.
2] Have the boatswain remark, "I see not why we should be in much dread of him...."
3] Make a joke about less-than-pretty mermaids.
4] Name the monster Jerry.
5] All of the above, dammit.
With only three chapters left before your epic anti-climax, do you, the author --
1] Hasten the action to build suspense?
2] Heighten the mood of spectral dread?
3] Halt the story to discuss the spiritual symbolism of "Psyche and Eros"?
Your protagonist is threatened by a mutant octopus! How will you, the author, suck all the fear and wonder from this anti-climactic moment?
1] Make sure that nothing much happens.
2] Hint vaguely of a spiritual threat without bothering to convey its effects or implications.
3] Have your protagonist escape with ease after eight dull pages of twilit fumbling with a tentacle.
4] All of the above, while refusing to explore the imaginative possibilities of your half-assed novel.
Which passage quoted below best conveys the flavour of this tedious book?
1] "...One of the most truly original fantastic novels in the English language. The prose is a joy to read, the vocabulary of Milton [sic] couched in the grammar of Stevenson [sic], while the plot is a heady amalgam of a boy's pirate adventure and metaphysical romance. A voyage to the South Seas culminates in a rendezvous with the sunken demesne of the monstrous octopoid Medusa, last [sic] of a prehistoric race that achieved inter-dimensional travel [?]. It seems vaguely reminiscent, in this, of Lovecraft's "The Call of Cthulhu," but is utterly unlike in spirit. Visiak achieved [sic] the terror and wonder, the sense of awe, that Lovecraft could only grasp at."
-- R. S. Hadji, TWILIGHT ZONE MAGAZINE, August 1983
2] "I believe that I once described MEDUSA as the probable outcome of Herman Melville having written TREASURE ISLAND while tripping on LSD. I can't add much to that, except to suggest that John Milton may have popped round on his way home from a week in an opium den to help him revise the final draft. We're talking heavy surreal here."
-- Karl Edward Wagner, HORROR: 100 BEST BOOKS, 1988
3] "He told me that he saw no light, but that, on a sudden, the sea was changed into a delectable land; a country of enchantment, having great tall trees, whereof the branches, with their massy broad leaves, did cast a cool delicious shade as green as emerald; and all about them, amongst bushes, bearing huge crimson blossoms, there appeared feminine and ravishing forms, all softness and delight, lifting up their alluring arms with a powerful strong enticement to come down to them.
"He said that he was exceeding fain to yield, though an old man, and though he had confidently supposed and hoped he had long ago overcome the lusts of the flesh and the seduction of the eyes, and was, indeed, in the very action of clambering over the bulwarks to cast himself incontinently down, as the rest did, into those blissful and delusory bowers, when (as he vehemently affirmed) he beheld the arm of the Almighty stretched out before him harder than granite.
"The awful spectacle took his soul with such a mighty rapture, and sense of abounding, adoring gratitude as to dispel that inordinate fleshly desire in a moment; whereupon, the airy charm dissolved and vanished away.
"These, to the best of my recollection, are his very words; and, indeed, they were lively imprinted in my mind. I am only careful to set them down; not to comment upon them -- nor on their substance either. Let them explicate this mystery who can; I leave it to the philosopher."
-- E. H. Visiak, MEDUSA (final chapter), 1929
And there ye have it, mateys: a few short paragraphs that show, with a greater force beyond me, the pointless waste of time that luckless readers call MEDUSA.
You are E. H. Visiak, noted authority on the life and work of John Milton. You intend to write a tale of "mystery, and ecstasy, & strange horror". Very well, then. Do you --
1] Conjure up an atmosphere of mystery through the careful employment of verbal effects?
2] Suggest a mood of ecstasy through elaborately detailed sensual impressions?
3] Induce a strange horror in the reader by eschewing mystery, ecstasy, vivid description, local colour, suspense, spectral atmosphere and characters with character?
You are a young lad on a sea voyage into the Unknown. En route, which is your most remarkable adventurous experience?
1] You glimpse a volcano, briefly, through the distant haze.
2] You buy a parrot.
3] You study Latin.
You are the owner of a ship at sea, and your crew has sighted a monster on board! Do you --
1] Search the ship to find the monster?
2] Question the pirate passenger who was seen many times, on land, accompanied by a monster?
3] Do *nothing* -- and tell the crew to trust in God?
You, the author, have just revealed the monster. How will you sabotage the dramatic effect of this "savage strange hideous creature"?
1] Have the monster knock on the door and... walk away.
2] Have the boatswain remark, "I see not why we should be in much dread of him...."
3] Make a joke about less-than-pretty mermaids.
4] Name the monster Jerry.
5] All of the above, dammit.
With only three chapters left before your epic anti-climax, do you, the author --
1] Hasten the action to build suspense?
2] Heighten the mood of spectral dread?
3] Halt the story to discuss the spiritual symbolism of "Psyche and Eros"?
Your protagonist is threatened by a mutant octopus! How will you, the author, suck all the fear and wonder from this anti-climactic moment?
1] Make sure that nothing much happens.
2] Hint vaguely of a spiritual threat without bothering to convey its effects or implications.
3] Have your protagonist escape with ease after eight dull pages of twilit fumbling with a tentacle.
4] All of the above, while refusing to explore the imaginative possibilities of your half-assed novel.
Which passage quoted below best conveys the flavour of this tedious book?
1] "...One of the most truly original fantastic novels in the English language. The prose is a joy to read, the vocabulary of Milton [sic] couched in the grammar of Stevenson [sic], while the plot is a heady amalgam of a boy's pirate adventure and metaphysical romance. A voyage to the South Seas culminates in a rendezvous with the sunken demesne of the monstrous octopoid Medusa, last [sic] of a prehistoric race that achieved inter-dimensional travel [?]. It seems vaguely reminiscent, in this, of Lovecraft's "The Call of Cthulhu," but is utterly unlike in spirit. Visiak achieved [sic] the terror and wonder, the sense of awe, that Lovecraft could only grasp at."
-- R. S. Hadji, TWILIGHT ZONE MAGAZINE, August 1983
2] "I believe that I once described MEDUSA as the probable outcome of Herman Melville having written TREASURE ISLAND while tripping on LSD. I can't add much to that, except to suggest that John Milton may have popped round on his way home from a week in an opium den to help him revise the final draft. We're talking heavy surreal here."
-- Karl Edward Wagner, HORROR: 100 BEST BOOKS, 1988
3] "He told me that he saw no light, but that, on a sudden, the sea was changed into a delectable land; a country of enchantment, having great tall trees, whereof the branches, with their massy broad leaves, did cast a cool delicious shade as green as emerald; and all about them, amongst bushes, bearing huge crimson blossoms, there appeared feminine and ravishing forms, all softness and delight, lifting up their alluring arms with a powerful strong enticement to come down to them.
"He said that he was exceeding fain to yield, though an old man, and though he had confidently supposed and hoped he had long ago overcome the lusts of the flesh and the seduction of the eyes, and was, indeed, in the very action of clambering over the bulwarks to cast himself incontinently down, as the rest did, into those blissful and delusory bowers, when (as he vehemently affirmed) he beheld the arm of the Almighty stretched out before him harder than granite.
"The awful spectacle took his soul with such a mighty rapture, and sense of abounding, adoring gratitude as to dispel that inordinate fleshly desire in a moment; whereupon, the airy charm dissolved and vanished away.
"These, to the best of my recollection, are his very words; and, indeed, they were lively imprinted in my mind. I am only careful to set them down; not to comment upon them -- nor on their substance either. Let them explicate this mystery who can; I leave it to the philosopher."
-- E. H. Visiak, MEDUSA (final chapter), 1929
And there ye have it, mateys: a few short paragraphs that show, with a greater force beyond me, the pointless waste of time that luckless readers call MEDUSA.
June 3, 2017
Only about the last tenth of the book is "mystery, ecstasy, and strange horror," with the preceding nine tenths being closer to Treasure Island than to William Hope Hodgson. The weird vision of the climax is worthwhile, but a little too easily explicable along familiar Platonic/Christian lines. Read this book if you like Hodgson and/or stayed with David Lindsay's "Sphinx" and "The Haunted Woman" for the visionary payoff, but don't expect a real lost treasure.
Read
May 18, 2025in the vast pantheon of lost and hypothetical books "what if the narrative of arthur gordon pym felt a little more in keeping with the rest of poe's work" is probably one of the less exciting ones, but at least now we know it would be bad
November 6, 2025
Only three stars means, to me anyway, a good novel--four for excellent and I try to reserve 5 for objective masterpieces and a few personal favorites. Thus this is a solid read, if a bit of the pulp variety and not exactly in my personal favorite wheelhouse. I obtained it because I'm enjoying this series of macabre classics published by the British Library. Really I'd never heard of this particular title before, but the introduction explained that a couple of decades back it gained notoriety via a combination of being out of print and almost unobtainable while simultaneously appearing on a couple of "lost classics of the genre" lists, thus stoking a legendary status perhaps not wholly earned by the text itself.
While the fine intro notes what little service such things do to a text, sadly, just telling me about them produced something close to the effect that the introduction was bemoaning. Thus I probably went into Medusa with higher expectations than I should have.
At any rate, what I didn't like much you might like. First and foremost, the youthful narrator (well, he tells us he's old when composing, but he sticks to the youthful situation and mindset he was in during the events described) gives the novel rather a young reader tone. As an old man I rather prefer a more mature approach--but if you like that Harry Potter rap perhaps you'll appreciate the tone. Also the narrative is very slow. While that didn't personally irk me, I feel like an adventure/horror tale is probably better served by getting to the point, yet here there was some mood and anticipation created by the slow pacing of events leading up to the only marginally exciting denouement. All ok, but nothing to write home about.
On the plus side I actually love a good pirate novel, and while this didn't come close to a ripping Sabatini yarn, the sea adventure/horror combo was pleasing enough and kept me going to the end. Serviceable for a Halloween read, although I might have done better, I think.
What
While the fine intro notes what little service such things do to a text, sadly, just telling me about them produced something close to the effect that the introduction was bemoaning. Thus I probably went into Medusa with higher expectations than I should have.
At any rate, what I didn't like much you might like. First and foremost, the youthful narrator (well, he tells us he's old when composing, but he sticks to the youthful situation and mindset he was in during the events described) gives the novel rather a young reader tone. As an old man I rather prefer a more mature approach--but if you like that Harry Potter rap perhaps you'll appreciate the tone. Also the narrative is very slow. While that didn't personally irk me, I feel like an adventure/horror tale is probably better served by getting to the point, yet here there was some mood and anticipation created by the slow pacing of events leading up to the only marginally exciting denouement. All ok, but nothing to write home about.
On the plus side I actually love a good pirate novel, and while this didn't come close to a ripping Sabatini yarn, the sea adventure/horror combo was pleasing enough and kept me going to the end. Serviceable for a Halloween read, although I might have done better, I think.
What
October 25, 2025
Reviewed by Trish palmer for British Library Press
British Library Publishing have chosen to release a series of Crime Mysteries which were first published between the 1890, s to the 1960’s.( This book was first published in 1929.) They feel there are many aspects of these stories which will fascinate modern readers. They acknowledge that the language used, stereotyping and attitudes may not match publishing standard of today. However, this is an opportunity for the public to read some of the rare books in their collection, and to look back into the time the story is told.
The story begins with the main character, Will Harvell, who was born at sea. His father was a ship’s captain, and his mother followed him on his travels. When he was eight years old, Will’s ship was wrecked in a storm, and he survived but his parents drowned. He was discovered by a Spanish Priest, who cared for him until he was able to place him on a ship bound for England.
Will was reunited with his fiercely religious grandparents and lived with them for some time. Eventually he was sent to a school, however he ran away from there and was looked after by a mariner. His life after this is one of learning quickly, staying out of trouble and always being alert. He is taken on board a ship and quickly learns his trade.
The writing in this book is detailed, “But you need not have made such haste,” said he. It suits the period and the story well and engages the reader. One feels transported to such a time where people had stories to tell, and marvellous tales to translate. This is a rare opportunity to delve into stories and author from the past.
E. H. Visiak was the pen name of the British writer and critic Edward Harold Physick, an expert on Milton and celebrated Edwardian poet best known for Buccaneer Ballads (1910) and a handful of strange short stories. His novel Medusa (1929) is heralded as an important contribution to weird fiction.
British Library Publishing have chosen to release a series of Crime Mysteries which were first published between the 1890, s to the 1960’s.( This book was first published in 1929.) They feel there are many aspects of these stories which will fascinate modern readers. They acknowledge that the language used, stereotyping and attitudes may not match publishing standard of today. However, this is an opportunity for the public to read some of the rare books in their collection, and to look back into the time the story is told.
The story begins with the main character, Will Harvell, who was born at sea. His father was a ship’s captain, and his mother followed him on his travels. When he was eight years old, Will’s ship was wrecked in a storm, and he survived but his parents drowned. He was discovered by a Spanish Priest, who cared for him until he was able to place him on a ship bound for England.
Will was reunited with his fiercely religious grandparents and lived with them for some time. Eventually he was sent to a school, however he ran away from there and was looked after by a mariner. His life after this is one of learning quickly, staying out of trouble and always being alert. He is taken on board a ship and quickly learns his trade.
The writing in this book is detailed, “But you need not have made such haste,” said he. It suits the period and the story well and engages the reader. One feels transported to such a time where people had stories to tell, and marvellous tales to translate. This is a rare opportunity to delve into stories and author from the past.
E. H. Visiak was the pen name of the British writer and critic Edward Harold Physick, an expert on Milton and celebrated Edwardian poet best known for Buccaneer Ballads (1910) and a handful of strange short stories. His novel Medusa (1929) is heralded as an important contribution to weird fiction.
October 20, 2019
Ein Klasiker der phantastischen Literatur, mir hat´s gefallen. Liest sich über weite Strecken wie ein Abenteuerroman, im Mittelpunkt ein heranwachsender Junge auf Seefahrt ins Unbekannte (auch Kapitän und Mannschaft wissen offensichtlich nicht so genau, wohin es denn nun gehen soll, nur der Auftraggeber und väterliche Freund des Jungen scheint zu wissen, was genau er eigentlich will, ohne das weiter zu kommunizieren allerdings).
Buchtitel und Genre erschließen sich auf den letzten ca. 30 Seiten, Höhepunkt, Showdown, Lovecraft. Day Of The Tentacle. Jede Menge Milton-Zitate gibt der Autor als ausgewiesener Milton-Kenner gratis bei. Schönes Nachwort. "Dumont´s Bibliothek des Phantastischen", deutsche Erstübersetzung dieses Werks aus dem Jahre 1929.
Buchtitel und Genre erschließen sich auf den letzten ca. 30 Seiten, Höhepunkt, Showdown, Lovecraft. Day Of The Tentacle. Jede Menge Milton-Zitate gibt der Autor als ausgewiesener Milton-Kenner gratis bei. Schönes Nachwort. "Dumont´s Bibliothek des Phantastischen", deutsche Erstübersetzung dieses Werks aus dem Jahre 1929.
May 6, 2025
As one of the British Library of the Weird books I was looking forward to this book, thinking that it would have featured a Gorgon/Medusa that I'm accustomed to seeing in films. Sadly I found the story slow paced, and a bit meandering. The climax to the book was, well I'll leave that to you the reader. 7/10 for this one.
August 24, 2020
It appears like an attempt at copying H.P. Lovecraft but mixing it with Treasure Island. Not entirely successful. I wouldn't recommend.
February 5, 2022
3.5 star roundup, pretty disjointed and slow to start but pretty good when it starts to get going, and has a pretty incredible climax
Want to read
January 14, 202337
May 24, 2025
A horror cult classic? Overwritten, under plotted, and wading your way through it deserves a medal.
interesting ideas, hidden with an impenetrable jungle of run on sentences.
interesting ideas, hidden with an impenetrable jungle of run on sentences.
December 12, 2025
Thanks to seeing the original Clash of the Titans as a kid in the 80s, Medusa has always fascinated me, and been the cause of many nightmares (I don’t think any movie scene has terrified me as much since, even if it may seem cheesy today). In my younger years I bought or borrowed from the library countless books on her as well as Greek Mythology in general, and I suspect this interest also helped spark my lifelong love of horror fiction.
So when, as a teen, I found out that the late great Karl Edward Wagner had selected an obscure book from 1929 called Medusa: A Story of Mystery, and Ecstasy, and Strange Horror* as one the 13 greatest supernatural horror novels of all time, it became a mission of mine to hunt it down, even though I eventually learned that it didn’t have a whole lot to do with the Gorgon herself. I never did find a vintage copy in the three decades since — for a reasonable price that is — so I’m thankful for this affordable new edition from British Library.
As others here have noted (as does the intro from Aaron Worth), Karl Wagner’s effusive praise likely led to unrealistic expectations for those who ended up paying hundreds of dollars for this, and I’m guessing that the “Holy Grail” nature of this book is a large reason for the mixed reviews here.
Taken on its own, it is a perfectly serviceable Stevensonian “young man’s adventure at sea” for the most part, with not much horror at all for the first 2/3 of it, but I think the hallucinatory, reality-bending final chapters are awe-some and awe-ful enough to make the book as a whole worth reading for fans of the genre, provided they temper their expectations. I won’t get into what those final chapters entail, though I will say I haven’t read much else like it, especially from this era. The Lovecraft and Hodgson comparisons are apt, but not quite on the mark, imo.
It’s well-written, though the archaic (for 1929 even), somewhat bloated style does become a bit tedious at times. Anyone who is used to reading 19th and early 20th century fiction should have no trouble, however.
While it probably wouldn’t make my list of very best horror novels, true connoisseurs of the weird and creepy owe it to themselves to at least see what the fuss is about, especially now that it’s finally affordable.
3.5 Stars.
* The original subtitle was “A Story of Mystery, and Ecstasy, and Strange Horror”, but this edition replaces “Story” with “Novel”, and gets rid of the first “and”.
So when, as a teen, I found out that the late great Karl Edward Wagner had selected an obscure book from 1929 called Medusa: A Story of Mystery, and Ecstasy, and Strange Horror* as one the 13 greatest supernatural horror novels of all time, it became a mission of mine to hunt it down, even though I eventually learned that it didn’t have a whole lot to do with the Gorgon herself. I never did find a vintage copy in the three decades since — for a reasonable price that is — so I’m thankful for this affordable new edition from British Library.
As others here have noted (as does the intro from Aaron Worth), Karl Wagner’s effusive praise likely led to unrealistic expectations for those who ended up paying hundreds of dollars for this, and I’m guessing that the “Holy Grail” nature of this book is a large reason for the mixed reviews here.
Taken on its own, it is a perfectly serviceable Stevensonian “young man’s adventure at sea” for the most part, with not much horror at all for the first 2/3 of it, but I think the hallucinatory, reality-bending final chapters are awe-some and awe-ful enough to make the book as a whole worth reading for fans of the genre, provided they temper their expectations. I won’t get into what those final chapters entail, though I will say I haven’t read much else like it, especially from this era. The Lovecraft and Hodgson comparisons are apt, but not quite on the mark, imo.
It’s well-written, though the archaic (for 1929 even), somewhat bloated style does become a bit tedious at times. Anyone who is used to reading 19th and early 20th century fiction should have no trouble, however.
While it probably wouldn’t make my list of very best horror novels, true connoisseurs of the weird and creepy owe it to themselves to at least see what the fuss is about, especially now that it’s finally affordable.
3.5 Stars.
* The original subtitle was “A Story of Mystery, and Ecstasy, and Strange Horror”, but this edition replaces “Story” with “Novel”, and gets rid of the first “and”.
September 8, 2023
Another in the long line of lost horror “classics” that were perpetually turning up on “Best of” List but we’re too hard to get your hands on to actually read. Fortunately Centipede Press put out a lovely new hardcover edition so we can judge for ourselves. On the whole I think it’s a fine sea tale with enough weirdness as one goes along to carry it to a satisfying strange conclusion - Deep One style creatures and a monstrous malevolent tentacled entity make appearances but I wouldn’t say it’s Lovecraftian - more akin to some of William Hope Hodgson’s work if I had to pick a comparison. The Centipede edition also includes Visiak’s short story oeuvre for what it’s worth but the main event is Medusa.
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