The Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard Read Free Page A

. He would soon make other contributions, such as the mad poet Justin Geoffrey and the alien entity Gol-goroth. Other of his creations, such as the serpent men of Valusia (from the Kull series), Bran Mak Morn, and, indeed, Kathulos, would be adopted by Lovecraft and others in their own tales.
    But we must draw an important distinction here between the use of these names or concepts as “general background-material” (in Lovecraft’s words), as opposed to their being the central conceit or plot driver of a story. As David Schultz and others have noted, neither Lovecraft nor his friends made any effort to codify any of this, seeing it more as something fun, something to give a flavor of real myth and legend to the background of their stories, than as a serious attempt to create a mythos. (Lovecraft himself used the tongue-in-cheek term “Yog-Sothothery”). Thus, Howard may occasionally refer to one of Lovecraft’s cosmic entities or allude to the Necronomicon or R’lyeh, but these mentions are usually incidental to the actual story. While it is fun to play the Mythos game, it should not lead the reader to assume that Howard (or others of Lovecraft’s peers) were consciously attempting to write Mythos stories.

    One story, for example, in which glancing Mythos references are found, but which is wholly a Robert E.
    Howard story, is “Worms of the Earth,” featuring another of Howard’s great heroic fantasy characters, the Pictish king Bran Mak Morn: last in a line of kings stretching back into mankind’s dawn, born to lead a savage, degenerated people in a last-ditch effort to prevent the legions of Roman Britain from overrunning their northern homeland, knowing that the fight will ultimately be lost but refusing to surrender. The “hideous and compelling power” that Lovecraft found in the story does not come from monsters or a sense of cosmic despair: it comes from watching the terrible consequences that flow from an all-too-human paroxysm of anger and desire for revenge. The story is considered by many Howard fans and scholars to be his finest tale; it works not only as an extraordinary heroic fantasy, but as a grim and atmospheric work of horror, and is perhaps his most effective use of the “little people” motif.
    Howard’s letters to Lovecraft frequently included tales of the old West, or of current conditions and events in Texas, and Lovecraft, himself an ardent regionalist (most of his stories being set in a fictional New England), encouraged Howard to make greater use of his native Southwest and its traditions in his fiction. This encouragement eventually prodded him into the creation of several of his finest and most distinctive works of horror or the supernatural, with tales set in the Southwest or in the “piney woods” of the Texas-Arkansas borderlands.
    The first of these “regional” works to appear in print was “The Horror from the Mound,” set in West Texas and featuring a young cowpuncher who laments his decision to give up his life as a cowboy to buy a farm. The story reflects two threads from Howard’s letters to Lovecraft: his considerable sympathy for farmers, who were struggling mightily as the Depression began to settle over the land; and his interest in the legends of lost Spanish treasures, which have been popular in Texas since before the Spanish left.
    Most important, of course, Howard shows he is still interested in taking on tropes of the horror genre—here, the vampire again—and giving them an unusual treatment. Too unusual for one poor Weird Tales reader, who complained that “The Horror from the Mound” [contained] no less than four flagrant breaches of accepted vampire tradition.” As we have seen, Howard was no respecter of literary traditions. In fact, it might be said that, with this story, Howard had finally succeeded in bringing together all three of his favorite genres—western, adventure, and the weird—to create the first “weird western.”
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