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Banshee, whole no. 3, December 1943
Page 4
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in turn is represented by a woman. Evil generally by one with gold-flecked green eyes. There is a gruff, hearty, lovable old warrior of Viking stock who keeps turning up. And Merritt rather overdoes the wonder -- I picture him writing with his mouth perpetually hanging open in aw. Very critical persons, like Trudy Kuslan and Bob Jones, repudiate Merritt for these reasons. There are many, however, like myself, who fall to find in these things sufficient irritation to override the glories in the works of him who not unjustly has been called the Lord of Fantasy. His gorgeous descriptions, his quite unparalleled richness of imagination, his occasional dippings into philosophy -- these give his writings a poetic beauty and a profundity rare in any kind of literature. His prose, bombastic at its worst, is at its best tremendously powerful and deliciously musical. The first Merrittale I read was "Creep, Shadow!" (which the Avon Book Company and many others will call "Creep, Shadow, Creep!"). I remember being utterly enthralled by it; and I must have read it six times at least. I still admire it, particularly the episode in Shadow Land -- as fine a thing as Merritt ever did -- but it is really a minor wok, and has blase cynicism in it which maddens me. Of much greater worth is the next of his novels to come to my attention, "The Moon Pool." For sheer richness and color of imaginative imagery this is probably supreme in literature. It has dreadfully hackneyed elements, such as the dastardly German (Russian?), but what do they matter beside the Shining One -- Muria--- Yolara-- The Dragon Worm --- The Silent Ones? "The Metal Monster," on the other hand, is to me even more impressive - bigger. It isn't as full on color and beauty, but I'll never forget The Smiting Thing, The Thing that Followed (cit from the FFN version), The Drums of Thunder, The City that Lived, The Vampires of the Sun, and all the other marvels of the Metal Folk. This certainly must be included in the omnibus, if and when -- and in the original version, complete with all the big splashes of philosophy and science, through some of Merritt's tonings-down should be incorporated. There is, of course, the school which ranks "The Ship of Ishbar" as Merritt's masterpiece. Indeed, despite the blood splashed liberally throughout its pages, it has the least amount of pulp formula of any of Merritt's novels, and possesses a strange supra-mundane beauty, an exquisite pathos connected in my mind, for some reason, with Wagner's "Tristan and Isolde." It does not display his imagination at its best , but it is unquestionably his loftiest work, and the one of the purest quality. The only other important Morritt novel is "Dwellers in the Mirage", a fine atmospheric tale and -- after a fashion -- psychological study. The rest are adventure or horror done better than anyone else could, but not major works. There remain, of course, the short stories, all beautifully done, and pretty well free from the faults of the novels. Yes, let us refrain from over-rating Merritt, but 'twould be a greater shame to under-rate him. While we're on the subject of Arkham House (who are NOT paying me for all this advertising!) I'd like to raise a question which has been bothering me for a long time; why don't they publish a Robert E. Howard anthology? At the time of Howard's dearth, the air was full not only of lamontations, but of rather vague plans -- hopes would be more accurate -- for a collection of the late master's fantasy. Since then, the name of Howard has lapsed into something distressfully resembling obscurity. 4
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in turn is represented by a woman. Evil generally by one with gold-flecked green eyes. There is a gruff, hearty, lovable old warrior of Viking stock who keeps turning up. And Merritt rather overdoes the wonder -- I picture him writing with his mouth perpetually hanging open in aw. Very critical persons, like Trudy Kuslan and Bob Jones, repudiate Merritt for these reasons. There are many, however, like myself, who fall to find in these things sufficient irritation to override the glories in the works of him who not unjustly has been called the Lord of Fantasy. His gorgeous descriptions, his quite unparalleled richness of imagination, his occasional dippings into philosophy -- these give his writings a poetic beauty and a profundity rare in any kind of literature. His prose, bombastic at its worst, is at its best tremendously powerful and deliciously musical. The first Merrittale I read was "Creep, Shadow!" (which the Avon Book Company and many others will call "Creep, Shadow, Creep!"). I remember being utterly enthralled by it; and I must have read it six times at least. I still admire it, particularly the episode in Shadow Land -- as fine a thing as Merritt ever did -- but it is really a minor wok, and has blase cynicism in it which maddens me. Of much greater worth is the next of his novels to come to my attention, "The Moon Pool." For sheer richness and color of imaginative imagery this is probably supreme in literature. It has dreadfully hackneyed elements, such as the dastardly German (Russian?), but what do they matter beside the Shining One -- Muria--- Yolara-- The Dragon Worm --- The Silent Ones? "The Metal Monster," on the other hand, is to me even more impressive - bigger. It isn't as full on color and beauty, but I'll never forget The Smiting Thing, The Thing that Followed (cit from the FFN version), The Drums of Thunder, The City that Lived, The Vampires of the Sun, and all the other marvels of the Metal Folk. This certainly must be included in the omnibus, if and when -- and in the original version, complete with all the big splashes of philosophy and science, through some of Merritt's tonings-down should be incorporated. There is, of course, the school which ranks "The Ship of Ishbar" as Merritt's masterpiece. Indeed, despite the blood splashed liberally throughout its pages, it has the least amount of pulp formula of any of Merritt's novels, and possesses a strange supra-mundane beauty, an exquisite pathos connected in my mind, for some reason, with Wagner's "Tristan and Isolde." It does not display his imagination at its best , but it is unquestionably his loftiest work, and the one of the purest quality. The only other important Morritt novel is "Dwellers in the Mirage", a fine atmospheric tale and -- after a fashion -- psychological study. The rest are adventure or horror done better than anyone else could, but not major works. There remain, of course, the short stories, all beautifully done, and pretty well free from the faults of the novels. Yes, let us refrain from over-rating Merritt, but 'twould be a greater shame to under-rate him. While we're on the subject of Arkham House (who are NOT paying me for all this advertising!) I'd like to raise a question which has been bothering me for a long time; why don't they publish a Robert E. Howard anthology? At the time of Howard's dearth, the air was full not only of lamontations, but of rather vague plans -- hopes would be more accurate -- for a collection of the late master's fantasy. Since then, the name of Howard has lapsed into something distressfully resembling obscurity. 4
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