What do you think?
Rate this book
The Annotated Hashish-Eater
"By some exaltation and expansion of cosmic consciousness, rather than a mere drug, used here as a symbol, the dreamer is carried to a height from which he beholds the strange and multiform scenes of existence in alien worlds; he maintains control of his visions, evokes and dismisses them at will. Then, in a state similar to the Buddhic plane, he is able to mingle with them and identify himself with their actors and objects. Still later, there is a transition in which the visions, and the monstrous and demonic forces he has evoked, begin to overpower him, to hurry him on helplessly, under circumstances of fright and panic. Armies of fiends and monsters, many drawn from the worlds of myth and fable, muster against him, pursue him through a terrible cosmos, and he is driven at last to the verge of a gulf into which falls in cataracts the ruin and rubble of the universe; a gulf from which the face of infinity itself, in all its awful blankness, beyond stars and worlds, beyond created things, even fiends and monsters, rises up to confront him." -- Clark Ashton Smith, Argument of 'The Hashish-Eater'
85 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1920
3 people are currently reading
102 people want to read
About the author
Clark Ashton Smith
721 books1,005 followersClark Ashton Smith was a poet, sculptor, painter and author of fantasy, horror and science fiction short stories. It is for these stories, and his literary friendship with H. P. Lovecraft from 1922 until Lovecraft's death in 1937, that he is mainly remembered today. With Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard, also a friend and correspondent, Smith remains one of the most famous contributors to the pulp magazine Weird Tales.
His writings are posted at his official website.
His writings are posted at his official website.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
February 19, 2021
“Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams…”
One of Smith's most famous and longest poems. His powerful imagination creates weird, terrifying and awe inspiring vistas that may, at times, overwhelm the reader. Each line summons a scene that would keep some talented painter busy for days bringing it to life. Lost between these lines, in strange and exotic worlds, one could easily dismiss any sense of structure, or plot. While to talk about plot is a fair bit of a stretch, there is a story here, one that eluded me the first few times I read this, absorbed entirely in the language and fantastical images it summoned.
I will quote a helpful passage by S. T. Joshi’s essay from “The Freedom of Fantastic Things”:
“It is possible to divide The Hashish-Eater into four fairly discrete sections, corresponding to the chapters of a story. They are as follows:
I. A general description of the narrator’s visions (in the “Argument” it is said that “By some exaltation and expansion of cosmic consciousness . . . the dreamer is carried to a height [from] which he beholds the strange and multi-form scenes of existence in alien worlds”) (1–171).
II. The narrator enters his visions and becomes a participant in them (the “Argument” states: “Then, in a state similar to the Buddhic plane, he is able to mingle with them and identify himself with their actors and objects”) (171–242).
III. The narrator perceives an intruder into his visions (242–83) and is pursued by a series of horrors (283–476), including the monsters in those regions “that knew my trespassing” (417).
IV. Fleeing, the narrator now falls into some strange realm described in the “Argument” as “the verge of a gulf into which falls in cataracts the ruin and rubble of the universe”; from this gulf “the face of infinity itself, in all its awful blankness . . . rises up to confront him” (476–582); the poem ends on a half-line to convey this sense of the narrator’s absorption into this realm.”
".... But when I reach
The verge, and seek through sun-defeating gloom
To measure with my gaze the dread descent,
I see a tiny star within the depths-
A light that stays me while the wings of doom
Convene their thickening thousands: for the star
increases, taking to its hueless orb,
With all the speed of horror-changèd dreams,
The light as of a million million moons;
And floating up through gulfs and glooms eclipsed
It grows and grows, a huge white eyeless Face
That fills the void and fills the universe,
And bloats against the limits of the world
With lips of flame that open . . .”
One of Smith's most famous and longest poems. His powerful imagination creates weird, terrifying and awe inspiring vistas that may, at times, overwhelm the reader. Each line summons a scene that would keep some talented painter busy for days bringing it to life. Lost between these lines, in strange and exotic worlds, one could easily dismiss any sense of structure, or plot. While to talk about plot is a fair bit of a stretch, there is a story here, one that eluded me the first few times I read this, absorbed entirely in the language and fantastical images it summoned.
I will quote a helpful passage by S. T. Joshi’s essay from “The Freedom of Fantastic Things”:
“It is possible to divide The Hashish-Eater into four fairly discrete sections, corresponding to the chapters of a story. They are as follows:
I. A general description of the narrator’s visions (in the “Argument” it is said that “By some exaltation and expansion of cosmic consciousness . . . the dreamer is carried to a height [from] which he beholds the strange and multi-form scenes of existence in alien worlds”) (1–171).
II. The narrator enters his visions and becomes a participant in them (the “Argument” states: “Then, in a state similar to the Buddhic plane, he is able to mingle with them and identify himself with their actors and objects”) (171–242).
III. The narrator perceives an intruder into his visions (242–83) and is pursued by a series of horrors (283–476), including the monsters in those regions “that knew my trespassing” (417).
IV. Fleeing, the narrator now falls into some strange realm described in the “Argument” as “the verge of a gulf into which falls in cataracts the ruin and rubble of the universe”; from this gulf “the face of infinity itself, in all its awful blankness . . . rises up to confront him” (476–582); the poem ends on a half-line to convey this sense of the narrator’s absorption into this realm.”
".... But when I reach
The verge, and seek through sun-defeating gloom
To measure with my gaze the dread descent,
I see a tiny star within the depths-
A light that stays me while the wings of doom
Convene their thickening thousands: for the star
increases, taking to its hueless orb,
With all the speed of horror-changèd dreams,
The light as of a million million moons;
And floating up through gulfs and glooms eclipsed
It grows and grows, a huge white eyeless Face
That fills the void and fills the universe,
And bloats against the limits of the world
With lips of flame that open . . .”
September 6, 2023
God, I can't stand the Lovecraft circle of weird fictioneers. They're just D&D nerds with a hard-on for Beowulf larping decadent dandy forebearers, but in lethargy rather than ecstasy. Don't they realise that the dying decadent race they depict is themselves?
Amidst a jumbled morass of inane mythical signifiers there are cosmic glimpses of the more-than-human. Sudden expanses that disjunct the dreamer and the world of Hyperborea into the scale of the planetary. A kingdom gives way to a sea of stars and the thousand year reign of this or that king becomes spectral. Po-faced griffins carrying gods are eclipsed by colossal worms whose bodies overflow the empty thrones they sit on. The sky itself is consumed by the sun's limitless face.
All this consists of about one stanza scattered throughout the later half of the poem, however. The rest of just fantasy trite. If you want cosmic horror-tinged fantasy look up The Dying Earth or Viriconium . Hell, if you're interesting in the planetary apocalypse aspect of Clark Ashton Smith's writing, have a look at The Genocides . They're all much more creative, especially the last two books, which reframe decadence as the outcome of capitalism, pollution, and climate change.
Amidst a jumbled morass of inane mythical signifiers there are cosmic glimpses of the more-than-human. Sudden expanses that disjunct the dreamer and the world of Hyperborea into the scale of the planetary. A kingdom gives way to a sea of stars and the thousand year reign of this or that king becomes spectral. Po-faced griffins carrying gods are eclipsed by colossal worms whose bodies overflow the empty thrones they sit on. The sky itself is consumed by the sun's limitless face.
All this consists of about one stanza scattered throughout the later half of the poem, however. The rest of just fantasy trite. If you want cosmic horror-tinged fantasy look up The Dying Earth or Viriconium . Hell, if you're interesting in the planetary apocalypse aspect of Clark Ashton Smith's writing, have a look at The Genocides . They're all much more creative, especially the last two books, which reframe decadence as the outcome of capitalism, pollution, and climate change.
September 9, 2009
I found the blank verse to be disorienting, and the first few pages required rereading in order to make sense of it. The feeling of menace and lack of control builds admirably and the language and imagery is powerful and ornate.
July 3, 2017
Beautifully written.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews