Sunday, 15 June 2014

Yn elefant, ny doail as ny caghlaaghyn Uss

Blind monks examining an elephant

Dooyrt carrey aym red ennagh er y gherrid. Ta ayrnyn jeu ny s'feerey tra t'ad marish nyn ayr as moir, ny marish y çheshey, ny marish caarjyn er lheh.

Some parts of me are more real when I'm with my parents, or with my partner, or certain friends. I have seen this in my parents, too. It's never occurred to me to behave otherwise.

S'ainjyssagh dou yn ennaghtyn shen. Hoig mee foddey erash dy nee mish elley t'ayn ny keayrtyn; ny ny share, dy vel caghlaaghyn mish ayn as ta'n fer smoo baghtal jeu croghey er quoi t'ayn. Tra ta mee loayrt rish moir my ayrey, she mish mwannalagh agh kiart t'ayn; shimmey spotçh graihagh ta mee jannoo, as blass paitçhagh er, agh ta mee erreeishagh chammah, son ta mee cloie paart oe daaney ayns lught-thie cooyrtoil dy liooar. Tra ta mee loayrt rish moir my vayrey, she mish pragmatagh, granganagh, breeoil as kione-daaney t'ayn, as blass Lancashire er y Vaarle aym; ta mee cloie paart fer aasit ayns lught-thie ta cur towse dty hengey dauesyn ta graih ayd orroo, as geddyn y red cheddin erash.

'Syn obbyr, ta mee my Scouser gennal cour ny studeyryn goan ass y heear-hwoaie, as my 'er keirdey cooyrtoil cour ny shenn ollooyn. She mish jeeragh t'ayn mastey kuse dy chaarjyn, as s'oayllagh dou stiurey ny ta shin jannoo; mastey caarjyn elley, ta mee my host dy mennick as share lhiam geiyrt orroo na stiurey. Ta mee çhebbal geaylin da shiartanse dy 'leih croghey urree, as ta mish croghey er geayltyn elley tra fa feme aym.

Agh cha nee breag t'ayn, ny red ennagh myr shen. Vel enney ayd er skeeal yn elefant as ny doail? Er lhiam dy nee cosoylaghey mie t'ayn. She elefant Uss, as gollrish beinn rioee...

S'baghtal dou dy vel y macsoyley shoh çheet dy ve lane chramp, agh lhiggey dou rish tammylt.

She elefant-beinn-rioee Uss. Ta'n chooid smoo jeed ass shilley, as cha nel co-heks ennagh soilshaghey magh agh un eddin jeed.


She elefant-beinn-rioee-gruaieagh Uss. Gollrish y fer shoh, agh ass rio. Ta'n chooid smoo jeed ass shilley, as cha nel co-heks ennagh soilshaghey magh agh un eddin jeed. T'ou feddyn magh towl cooie dhyt 'sy cho-heks, gollrish y ghoog shoh.


Eaisht. T'ou Uss gollrish elefant-beinn-rioee gruaieagh, as ta possan sheshoil gollrish boayrd fuyghee as tuill aynsyn oddagh oo soie ayndauesyn, agh myr hee oo, ta ny tuill ry-gheddyn foast croghey er cre ny cummaghyn ta soie 'sy voayrd hannah. As foddee nagh vel towl cooie erbee dtys ayns boayrd er lheh. Agh cha nel uss dty chummey neuchramp; ta caghlaaghyn gruaie ayd, as rish çhyndaa mygeayrt s'cosoylagh dy fow uss gruaie ta kiangley dy mie. Ny keayrtyn, she cummey beg t'ayn as dobbyr da gyn bentyn rish ny cummaghyn mygeayrt echey; ny keayrtyn elley t'ou soie ayns mean y voayrd as ta cagh bentyn roo dy fondagh.

As gollrish ny doail, ta ny caarjyn ayd fakin y ghruaie shen son y chooid smoo, as cha nel enney baghtal oc er ny h-Ussyn elley t'ayn, as cha nel ad cliaghtit roo. Agh cha nel eh jannoo y famman ayd eer beggan ny sloo "Uss" jus son y fa dy vel enney ec y fer shoh er dty chleaysh, as y fer elley er dty chass, as ta'n famman ass shilley cagh son y chooid smoo.

S'treisht lhiam dy vel shen baghtal nish.

The elephant, the blind men and the many Yous

Blind monks examining an elephant

A friend of mine said something recently, which I'd like to quote:

Some parts of me are more real when I'm with my parents, or with my partner, or certain friends. I have seen this in my parents, too. It's never occurred to me to behave otherwise.

It's a familiar thought to me (not wishing to sound smug, I was aiming for "thinking with one accord"). I've noticed it repeatedly over the years, that I'm different from occasion to occasion; or better, that there are various mes and the most salient one depends on my company. When I talk to my paternal grandmother, I'm irreverent but considerate, full of affectionate ribbing in a slightly childish vein, but still sympathetic and courteous, for here I play the part of a cheeky grandson in a pretty respectable family. When I talk to my maternal grandmother, I'm pragmatic, cynical, lively and opinionated, with a more Northerly accent; my role here is a grown lad in a family where affection means giving as good as you get, exchanging terrible puns and twinkling eyes, and being bluff and down-to-earth.

At work, I'm a cheery Scouser with the rare students from the north-west, and a polite professional with elderly academics. I'm forthright and take the lead amongst certain friends; in other circles I'm quieter and prefer to let others decide. I offer a shoulder for some folks to lean on, and do my own leaning on other shoulders.

But this sort of thing isn't a deception or anything. Do you know the story of the blind men and the elephant? I think it's a decent comparison here. You're basically the elephant, and like an iceberg...

Okay, this metaphor is getting a bit complicated, but stay with me here.

You're an elephant-iceberg. The best part of you is hidden, and only one facet is usually visible in any particular context.


So you're a multifacted elephant-iceberg. A bit like this, except icier. The best part of you is hidden, and only one facet is usually visible in any particular context. When a context arises (like a group of friends) you seek out a suitable gap for yourself, like this.


Right, listen. You're a multifacted elephant-iceberg, and social contexts are like a wooden board with holes of varying shapes in them that you can slot into; but as you can see from the link, the holes that exist depend on what shapes are already sitting on the board. Maybe there isn't a suitable hole for you at all in some contexts. But you aren't a simple flat shape; you have many facets, and by turning a little you can typically find one to fit the context, even if it's a small one that barely touches the shapes around it. Other times, you're sat right in the centre with everyone else firmly ensconced around you.

And like the blind men, friends and family will see the facet that's presented to them, and have no clear idea of the other Yous that exist, and aren't familiar with them. But it doesn't make your tail any less "You" that this person here knows your ear, that person knows your foot, and really nobody else ever gets a glimpse of your tail.

I hope that's all clear then.

Friday, 13 June 2014

Coontey Randolph Carter

Coontey Randolph Carter

Ta mee ginsh diu reesht, gheiney ooasle; cha feeu erbee eh mish y cheishtey. Pryssoonee mee ayns shoh er son dy bragh my sailliu; jean my ghooney stiagh ny my chur gys baase my ta feme oc er surransagh dys cummal seose y chonrieught ta shiu genmys cairys; cha noddym gra ny smoo ny ny ta grait aym hannah. Dagh ooilley red s'cooin lhiam eh, ta mee er ny ghra dy jeeragh. Cha nel red erbee jeh cassit ny follit aym, as my ta'n chooish neuchruinn foast, shen er coontey ynrican y vodjal dorraghey t'er jeet harrish my aigney - y bodjal shen as dooghys kayeeagh ny scoaghyn hug eh orrym.

Jirrym reesht, cha s'aym cre'n erree haink er Harley Warren, agh er lhiam - s'treisht lhiam, faggys - dy vel eh ec fea er neunhee nish, my ta lheid y stayd sheeant ayn raad erbee. S'feer eh dy vel mee e charrey s'ainjyssee rish queig bleeantyn, as lieh-ayrniagh 'syn aahirrey agglagh jeant echey er cooishyn gyn enney. Cha nee'm jiooldey, ga dy vel my chooinaghtyn neuhickyr as neuchronnal, dy vaik feanishagh ennagh eu y jees ain ec lieh-oor lurg nane-jeig yn oie agglagh shen, as shinyn shooyll ry-cheilley er raad keesh Ghainsville rish Curragh Chuphar Vooar. Shickyreeym dy arryltagh dy dymmyrk shin londeyryn lectragh, kiebbyn, as streng chaslit whaagh as jeshaghtyn kianglt ree; va laue ocsyn ooilley 'sy çhilley owanagh ynrican t'er ny 'owanaghey er my chooinaghtyn jeeillit. Agh er ny haghyr ny yei, as er y fa hooar ad mish my lomarcan as thollaneagh ec oirr ny curree y nah voghrey, shegin dou gra nagh cooin lhiam red erbee agh ny ta mee er n'insh diu reesht as reeshtagh. Dinsh shiu dou nagh vel boayl erbee 'sy churragh ny'n ard oddagh ve ynnyd ny taghyrtyn atçhimagh shen. Ta mee freggyrt nagh vel fys aym agh er ny honnick mee. Foddee dy nee ashlish ny tromlhie v'ayn - s'mian jeean lhiam dy nee ashlish ny tromlhie v'ayn - agh shen ooilley s'cooin lhiam eh jeh taghyrtyn atçhimagh ny h-ooryn erreish dooin faagail tastey deiney. As er y fa nagh daink Harley Warren erash, eshyn ny'n scaa echey - ny nhee ennagh gyn enney nagh noddym soilshaghey magh - cha hoilshee agh y traa shen.

Myr dooyrt mee, va mee ainjyssagh rish studeyrys quaagh Harley Warren, as ghow mee ayrn ayn ny keayrtyn. Mastey'n çhaglym ass towse echey dy lioaryn joarree goaney er cooishyn neulhiggit, ta mee er lhiah dagh fer ta screeut ayns çhengey t'aym; agh t'adsyn beg cosoylit roosyn t'ayns çhengaghyn nagh noddym toiggal. Ta'n chooid smoo jeu ayns Arabish, ta mee credjal; as y lioar jouyll-screeut hayrn y jerrey orrin - lioar hug lesh eh 'sy phoagey echey magh ass y teihll - v'eshyn screeut ayns lettyryn nagh vaik mee rieau y lheid oc. Cha row Warren arryltagh rieau dy insh dou ny v'aynsyn, dy jeeragh. As bentyn rish y studeyrys jeant ain - nhegin dou gra reesht nagh gooin lhiam y clane foast? Er lhiam dy nee myghin t'ayn; she studeyrys agglagh v'ayn, as lhian mee roo kyndagh rish cleaynaghey neuarryltagh, cha nel rish mian hene. Va kioneys ec Warren orrym rieau, as va aggle orrym roish ny keayrtyn. S'cooin lhiam yn aght va mee er craa yn oie roish ny taghyrtyn agglagh, as eshyn loayrt gyn scuirr erbee er y çheiltynys echey, er y fa nagh vel merriu ennagh loauaghey arragh, agh marraghtyn dy fondagh as roayr ayns ny tommanyn oc rish milley bleeaney. Agh cha nel aggle aym roish nish; er lhiam dy vel enney echey nish er scoaghaghyn ass my oayllys. Nish ta aggle aym er-e-hon.

Ta mee ginsh diu reesht nagh vel fys baghtal aym er y dean v'ain yn oie shen. Son shickyrys, v'eh bentyn rish red ennagh 'sy lioar hrog Warren eh - y shenn lioar ayns lettyryn do-lhiah v'er ny roshtyn ass yn Injey mee er dy henney - agh breearreeym nagh row fys aym er ny v'eh jerkal feddyn eh. Ta'n feanishagh eu gra dy vaik eh shin mysh lieh-oor lurg nane-jeig er raad keesh Ghainsville, shooyll cour Curragh Chuphar Vooar. S'feer eh, s'cosoylagh, agh cha gooin lhiam eh dy baghtal. Cha nel agh un çhilley grainnit er my annym, as shegin dasyn ve foddey lurg mean oie; va eayst eairkagh vaarnee ny soie ard ayns ny niaughyn gaalagh.

She shenn ruillick v'ayn; ruillick cho shenn va mee er craa lesh ymmodee cowraghyn bleeantyn ass towse. V'ee ny soie ayns laggan dowin tash, fo lane-choodagh faiyr rank, keynnagh, as sarkil snauee whaagh, as er ny feie haink soar neuchronnal dou chianglee my aigney meecheayllagh rish claghyn molkagh. Er gagh çheu va cowraghyn neuyeadid as drogh-oardrailys ry-akin, as haink eie lhiantynagh orrym dy nee Warren as mish ny kied chretooryn vioey haink stiagh er tostid marrooagh ny h-eashyn. Vlak eayst eairkagh vaarnee hreih harrish oirr y ghlion trooid gaal nieunagh dirree ass oaighyn gyn enney, er lhiam. Fo skaggyn moaley kirkinagh e soilshey dod mee cronnaghey straih graynoil dy leacyn oaie, crockyn, lhiaghtyn cooinaght as eddinyn toman mooar; v'ad ooilley boghlanagh, coodit lesh keynnagh, daahit liorish tashtid, as lieh-'ollit liorish rankid arraghtagh ny glasseraght neufollan.

Y chied chooinaght vaghtal aym jinyn 'sy ruillick agglagh shen, shen Warren as mish scuirr roish lhiaght lieh-naardit er lheh, as lhiggey da laad ennagh va shin er n'ymmyrkey tuittym sheese. Hug mee my ner nish dy row londeyr lectragh as daa chiebbey ayms, choud's va londeyr cosoylagh rish ec my charrey, as farrys çhellvane ymmyrkagh. Cha loayr shin fockle erbee; v'eh jeeaghyn dy row ynnyd as obbyr mie er fys ain daa, as gyn feiyal ghow shin kiebbey y pheesh as goaill toshiaght scughey faiyr, sarkil as thalloo chailjey jeh thie rea shenn-emshiragh ny merriu. Erreish dooin seyrey y lane eaghtyr, as eshyn jeant jeh tree claghyn tryal fouwragh, hayrn shin erash dys goaill towshan jeh'n reayrtys baaish. Er lhiam dy ren Warren co-earroo inçhynagh ennagh. Eisht hooill eh erash da'n oaie, as jannoo eab dy phrisal seose y leac va s'faggys da tholtanagh cloaie va ny lhiaght cooinaghtyn 'sy laa, foddee. Cha daink eh lesh, as chowree eh er son cooney. Fy yerrey, ren y lane niart ain feaysley y leac, as hrog shin eh as seiy eh ass y raad.

Ren arraghey y leac taishbyney barney doo, as gheayrt magh smoghan dy ghas miasmagh cho feodagh lheim shin erash fo grayn. Agh rish tammylt, hayrn shin faggys da'n slogh reesht, as dennee shin dy row y soar ny sloo do-hurranse. Hoilshee ny londeyryn kione roie greeishyn, as ingyr dwoaieagh ennagh y thalloo sthie sheeley harroo, as boallaghyn tash fo scroig neetar ny çhemmalyn oc. As nish son y chied cheayrt ta taggloo beill cooinit aym; Warren loayr rhym er liurid 'sy choraa tennoragh menoyragh echey, as eshyn neuvoirit dy quaagh liorish y çhymbyllaght agglagh mygeayrt-y-mooin.

"S'treih lhiam shassoo ort fuirraghtyn er y thalloo," as eh, "agh by pheccah eh lhiggey da fer cho lhaggey e nearagyn goll sheese ayns shen. Cha nod oo sheiltyn, gyn scansh da ny t'ou er lhiah as ny ta mee er ninsh dhyt, ny vees orrym fakin as jannoo eh. She obbyr jouyllagh t'ayn, Charter, as ta ourys aym dy noddagh fer erbee gyn daanys yiarn ny hurranse as tannaghtyn bio as er e cheayll. Cha mian lhiam frioggan ort, as ta fys ec Jee by voggey dou dty heshaght; agh ta currym orrym, aght ennagh, as cha noddym tayrn lheid y fer nearagagh sheese marym dys baase ny baanrys cosoylagh. Ta mee ginsh dhyt, cha nod oo sheiltyn rieughid y nhee! Agh ta mee gialdyn dy hoilshaghey dagh kesmad y turrys dhyt er y çhellvane - jeeagh, ta streng dy liooar aym dys roshtyn cree ny cruinney as erash!"

Ta ny focklyn shen as e choraa chiune ry-chlashtyn aym foast, as s'cooin lhiam ny çhionnraaghyn hug mee er. By vian jeean dou goll marish my charrey stiagh 'sy çharvaal ghrouw, er lhiam, agh v'eh kione-lajeragh as creoi. Keayrt ennagh vaggyr eh dy 'aagail y jurnaa dy danneein shassooagh; haink y baggyrt shen lesh, er y fa nagh row feaysley y chooish agh echeysyn. S'cooin lhiam ooilley shen, ga nagh gooin lhiam nish cre'n nhee hirr shin. Erreish da cur orrym lhie roish y chiarail echey, hrog Warren y rollian streng as cochiartaghey ny jeshaghtyn. As eshyn snoggal, ghow mee fer jeu as soie sheese er shenn leac oaie daahit ec ny h-eashyn, faggys da'n doarlish noa-feddynit. Eisht chrie ad my laue, as cur y rollian streng er e gheaylin, as skellal stiagh 'sy thie craueyn do-insh.

Rish tammylt, dreill mee shilley er soilshey y losteyr, as va moostrey streng ry-chlashtyn tra hug eh eh sheese ny yei; agh dy gerrid, herree y soilshey dy doaltattym, myr dy row eh er gassey corneil ennagh 'sy roie greeishyn cloaie, as lheie magh y sheean myrgeddin. Va mee my lomarcan, agh er my chiangley da'n diunid gyn enney ec snaieyn obbeeys jeen lhie geayney fo skaggyn moaley ny h-eayst eairkagh vaarnee.

Ayns tostid fadaneagh ard-valley lheeah as treigit ny merriu, ren my inçhyn gientyn scaanyn as conrieughtyn scoaghagh ass towse; as er lhiam dy daink persoonid graney er ny çhiambleyn as leacyn arraghtagh - far-enney ennagh. Va scaanyn gyn cummey lhie cooyl chlea ayns cuilleigyn s'dorree y lhaggan sarkyllagh, er lhiam, as gimman myr cosheeaght drogh-chliaghtagh vollaghtagh shaghey beill ny tommanyn molmagh 'sy lhargagh; scaanyn nagh dod ve ceaut ec yn eayst eairkagh vlakee, treih.

Cheau mee shillaghyn kinjagh er my ooreyder lesh soilshey y losteyr lectragh, as eaishtagh rish y ghlackeyder çhellvane as imnea jeean orrym; agh rish kerroo oor as ny smoo, cha geayll mee veg. Eisht haink criggaraght beg ass y jeshaght, as deam mee sheese da my charrey lesh coraa toghtit. Ga dy row mee twoaieagh, cha row mee aarloo da ny focklyn cheayll mee girree neese magh ass yn ooig neuheiltagh, as y blass orroo scoaghit as er creau erskyn focklyn erbee cheayll mee rieau jeh Harley Warren. Eshyn v'er my 'aagail cho kiune tammylt beg er-dy-henney, v'eh gyllagh neese ayns sannish craagh ny smoo drogh-vonneydagh na screeagh er ard.

"Yee! Dy vaikagh oo ny ta mee fakin!"

Cha dod mee freggyrt. Gyn choraa, cha dod mee agh fuirraghtyn. Loayr y coraa toghtit reesht:

"Charter, t'eh agglagh - eajee - neuchredjallagh!"

Y cheayrt shoh cha huitt my choraa, as gheayrt mee thooilley feyshtyn greesit stiagh 'sy ghlackeyder. As aggle ass towse orrym, dooyrt mee gyn scuirr, "Warren, c'red t'eh? C'red t'eh?"

Haink coraa my charrey reesht, peeaghaneagh lesh aggle, as blass drogh-hreihys er nish.

"Cha noddym ginsh dhyt, Charter! T'eh ass smooinaght dy bollagh - cha lhoys dou gra - cha nod fer erbee tannaghtyn bio as fys echey er - Yee ooilley-niartal! Cha heill mee rieau y lheid!"

Tostid reesht, er lhimmey jeh'n stroo meeresoonagh dy 'eyshtyn gheayrt mee magh er creau. Eisht coraa Warren as ardjey ard-yindys keoie er:

"Charter! Son graih Yee, cur y leac erash as magh ass shoh my foddee uss! Tappee! - Faag y clane as immee çheumooie - shen y caa ynrican dhyt! Jean ny dooyrt mee, as ny shirr baght er orrym!

Cheayll mee, agh cha dod mee agh aaloayrt ny feyshtyn dy baanrit. Va tommanyn as dorraghys as scaanyn mygeayrt aym; as foym va cryggyl erskyn creeagh sheiltynys deiney. Agh va my charrey ayns gaue ny strimmey na mish, as trooid yn aggle va corree ennagh orrym dy chred eh dy noddin treigeil eh rish lheid y tuittymys. Tooilley criggaraght, as farkaght, as eisht yllagh treih ass Warren.

"Fow royd! Son graih Yee, cur y leac erash as trog er, Charter!"

B'vaghtal eh dy row my chumraag lhottit, as ren blass ennagh 'sy raa guilleydagh feaysley my ablid greimmit. Ren as dyllee mee kiarail, "Warren, gow cree! Ta mee çheet sheese!" Agh rish y çhebbal chaghlaa blass my choloayrtagh da yllagh lane veehreishteil:

"Ny jig! Cha nel oo toiggal! T'eh ro-anmagh - as s'lhiams y varranys. Cur y leac erash as roie - cha nel freggyrt erbee ayds ny ec peiagh erbee nish!"

Chaghlaa y coraa reesht, as haink blass kiune er nish, myr surranse gyn doghys. Agh va çhennid imnea er foast er my hon.

"Tappee - roish my vel eh ro-anmagh!"

Ren mee eab gyn cur geill da; dys brishey trooid y neuheiltys voogh mee, as cooilleeiney my vreearrey dy ratçh dy chooney eh. Agh hooar y nah hannish mish foast neughleashagh ayns driaghtyn jiarg-scoagh.

"Charter - jean siyr! Cha nel ymmyd erbee - shegin dhyt goll - ny share un na daa - y leac-"

Scuirr, ny smoo criggaraght, as coraa faase Warren:

"Faggys jeant nish - ny jean eh ny s'creoi - coodee ny greeishyn mollaghtagh as roie er son dty vea - t'ou uss coayl traa - bannaght lhiat, Charter - cha vaikym uss reesht."

As myr shen vooadee sannish Warren dys yllagh; yllagh dirree dy moal dys screeagh lughtit lesh lane ghrayn ny h-eashyn:

"Mollaght er ny nheeghyn iurinagh - çhionnalyn jeu - Graih Yee! Trog er! Trog er! TROG ER!"

As ny yei shen, tostid. Cha s'aym cre wooad dy h-eashyn gyn jerrey hannee mee my hoie as mish thollaneagh; sansheraght, mungley, gyllaghey, screeaghey stiagh 'sy çhellvane. Reesht as reeshtagh car ny h-eashyn shen hanshee mee, as vungil, as dyllee, as deam, "Warren! Warren! Loayr rhym - vel oo ayns shen?"

As eisht haink orrym yn ard-scoagh - y red do-chredjal, do-smooinaghtagh; do-insh, faggys. Ta mee er ngra dy jagh eashyn shaghey erreish da Warren screeaghey magh y raaue meehreishteilagh s'jerree, as nagh vrish agh my focklyn hene y tostid atçhimagh nish. Agh lurg tammylt cheayll mee criggaraght reesht 'sy ghlackeyder, as heeyn mee my chleayshyn da. Dyllee mee sheese reesht, "Warren, vel oo ayns shen?" as myr freggyrt cheayll mee ny t'er cheau y dolley shoh er my inçhyn. Cha nee'm eab, my gheiney seyrey, soilshey y cheau er y chooish - y coraa shen - as cha noddym cur coontey myn jeh noadyr; ren ny kied 'ocklyn raipey ersooyl my enney as faagail folmid cooinaghtyn derrey ghooisht mee 'sy thie lheihys. Lhisin gra dy row eh trome; mooghit; gleiynagh; feayr; neuheihllt; neughooinoil; neuchorpoil? C'red noddym gra? By jerrey my chooinaghtyn eh, as she jerrey my skeeal t'ayn. Cheayll mee eh, as coayl enney - cheayll mee eh as mish lhejit my hoie 'sy ruillick gyn enney 'sy laggan, mastey claghyn as tommanyn boghlanagh, as glasseraght rank, as gaal miasmagh - cheayll mee eh brooightey neese ass brein s'diuney ny h-oiae 'oshlit imshee shen tra ghaunse scaadooghyn merriu-eeagh gyn cummey fo eayst vollaghtagh vaarnee.

As shoh ny dooyrt eh:


The Statement of Randolph Carter

I repeat to you, gentlemen, that your inquisition is fruitless. Detain me here forever if you will; confine or execute me if you must have a victim to propitiate the illusion you call justice; but I can say no more than I have said already. Everything that I can remember, I have told with perfect candour. Nothing has been distorted or concealed, and if anything remains vague, it is only because of the dark cloud which has come over my mind—that cloud and the nebulous nature of the horrors which brought it upon me.

Again I say, I do not know what has become of Harley Warren; though I think—almost hope—that he is in peaceful oblivion, if there be anywhere so blessed a thing. It is true that I have for five years been his closest friend, and a partial sharer of his terrible researches into the unknown. I will not deny, though my memory is uncertain and indistinct, that this witness of yours may have seen us together as he says, on the Gainesville pike, walking toward Big Cypress Swamp, at half past eleven on that awful night. That we bore electric lanterns, spades, and a curious coil of wire with attached instruments, I will even affirm; for these things all played a part in the single hideous scene which remains burned into my shaken recollection. But of what followed, and of the reason I was found alone and dazed on the edge of the swamp next morning, I must insist that I know nothing save what I have told you over and over again. You say to me that there is nothing in the swamp or near it which could form the setting of that frightful episode. I reply that I know nothing beyond what I saw. Vision or nightmare it may have been—vision or nightmare I fervently hope it was—yet it is all that my mind retains of what took place in those shocking hours after we left the sight of men. And why Harley Warren did not return, he or his shade—or some nameless thing I cannot describe—alone can tell.

As I have said before, the weird studies of Harley Warren were well known to me, and to some extent shared by me. Of his vast collection of strange, rare books on forbidden subjects I have read all that are written in the languages of which I am master; but these are few as compared with those in languages I cannot understand. Most, I believe, are in Arabic; and the fiend-inspired book which brought on the end—the book which he carried in his pocket out of the world—was written in characters whose like I never saw elsewhere. Warren would never tell me just what was in that book. As to the nature of our studies—must I say again that I no longer retain full comprehension? It seems to me rather merciful that I do not, for they were terrible studies, which I pursued more through reluctant fascination than through actual inclination. Warren always dominated me, and sometimes I feared him. I remember how I shuddered at his facial expression on the night before the awful happening, when he talked so incessantly of his theory, why certain corpses never decay, but rest firm and fat in their tombs for a thousand years. But I do not fear him now, for I suspect that he has known horrors beyond my ken. Now I fear for him.

Once more I say that I have no clear idea of our object on that night. Certainly, it had much to do with something in the book which Warren carried with him—that ancient book in undecipherable characters which had come to him from India a month before—but I swear I do not know what it was that we expected to find. Your witness says he saw us at half past eleven on the Gainesville pike, headed for Big Cypress Swamp. This is probably true, but I have no distinct memory of it. The picture seared into my soul is of one scene only, and the hour must have been long after midnight; for a waning crescent moon was high in the vaporous heavens.

The place was an ancient cemetery; so ancient that I trembled at the manifold signs of immemorial years. It was in a deep, damp hollow, overgrown with rank grass, moss, and curious creeping weeds, and filled with a vague stench which my idle fancy associated absurdly with rotting stone. On every hand were the signs of neglect and decrepitude, and I seemed haunted by the notion that Warren and I were the first living creatures to invade a lethal silence of centuries. Over the valley's rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapours that seemed to emanate from unheard-of catacombs, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique slabs, urns, cenotaphs, and mausolean facades; all crumbling, moss-grown, and moisture-stained, and partly concealed by the gross luxuriance of the unhealthy vegetation. My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible necropolis concerns the act of pausing with Warren before a certain half-obliterated sepulchre, and of throwing down some burdens which we seemed to have been carrying. I now observed that I had with me an electric lantern and two spades, whilst my companion was supplied with a similar lantern and a portable telephone outfit. No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to us; and without delay we seized our spades and commenced to clear away the grass, weeds, and drifted earth from the flat, archaic mortuary. After uncovering the entire surface, which consisted of three immense granite slabs, we stepped back some distance to survey the charnel scene; and Warren appeared to make some mental calculations. Then he returned to the sepulchre, and using his spade as a lever, sought to pry up the slab lying nearest to a stony ruin which may have been a monument in its day. He did not succeed, and motioned to me to come to his assistance. Finally our combined strength loosened the stone, which we raised and tipped to one side.

The removal of the slab revealed a black aperture, from which rushed an effluence of miasmal gases so nauseous that we started back in horror. After an interval, however, we approached the pit again, and found the exhalations less unbearable. Our lanterns disclosed the top of a flight of stone steps, dripping with some detestable ichor of the inner earth, and bordered by moist walls encrusted with nitre. And now for the first time my memory records verbal discourse, Warren addressing me at length in his mellow tenor voice; a voice singularly unperturbed by our awesome surroundings.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you to stay on the surface," he said, "but it would be a crime to let anyone with your frail nerves go down there. You can't imagine, even from what you have read and from what I've told you, the things I shall have to see and do. It's fiendish work, Carter, and I doubt if any man without ironclad sensibilities could ever see it through and come up alive and sane. I don't wish to offend you, and heaven knows I'd be glad enough to have you with me; but the responsibility is in a certain sense mine, and I couldn't drag a bundle of nerves like you down to probable death or madness. I tell you, you can't imagine what the thing is really like! But I promise to keep you informed over the telephone of every move—you see I've enough wire here to reach to the centre of the earth and back!"

I can still hear, in memory, those coolly spoken words; and I can still remember my remonstrances. I seemed desperately anxious to accompany my friend into those sepulchral depths, yet he proved inflexibly obdurate. At one time he threatened to abandon the expedition if I remained insistent; a threat which proved effective, since he alone held the key to the thing. All this I can still remember, though I no longer know what manner of thing we sought. After he had secured my reluctant acquiescence in his design, Warren picked up the reel of wire and adjusted the instruments. At his nod I took one of the latter and seated myself upon an aged, discoloured gravestone close by the newly uncovered aperture. Then he shook my hand, shouldered the coil of wire, and disappeared within that indescribable ossuary. For a moment I kept sight of the glow of his lantern, and heard the rustle of the wire as he laid it down after him; but the glow soon disappeared abruptly, as if a turn in the stone staircase had been encountered, and the sound died away almost as quickly. I was alone, yet bound to the unknown depths by those magic strands whose insulated surface lay green beneath the struggling beams of that waning crescent moon.

In the lone silence of that hoary and deserted city of the dead, my mind conceived the most ghastly phantasies and illusions; and the grotesque shrines and monoliths seemed to assume a hideous personality—a half-sentience. Amorphous shadows seemed to lurk in the darker recesses of the weed-choked hollow and to flit as in some blasphemous ceremonial procession past the portals of the mouldering tombs in the hillside; shadows which could not have been cast by that pallid, peering crescent moon. I constantly consulted my watch by the light of my electric lantern, and listened with feverish anxiety at the receiver of the telephone; but for more than a quarter of an hour heard nothing. Then a faint clicking came from the instrument, and I called down to my friend in a tense voice. Apprehensive as I was, I was nevertheless unprepared for the words which came up from that uncanny vault in accents more alarmed and quivering than any I had heard before from Harley Warren. He who had so calmly left me a little while previously, now called from below in a shaky whisper more portentous than the loudest shriek:

"God! If you could see what I am seeing!"

I could not answer. Speechless, I could only wait. Then came the frenzied tones again:

"Carter, it's terrible—monstrous—unbelievable!"

This time my voice did not fail me, and I poured into the transmitter a flood of excited questions. Terrified, I continued to repeat, "Warren, what is it? What is it?"

Once more came the voice of my friend, still hoarse with fear, and now apparently tinged with despair:

"I can't tell you, Carter! It's too utterly beyond thought—I dare not tell you—no man could know it and live—Great God! I never dreamed of THIS!" Stillness again, save for my now incoherent torrent of shuddering inquiry. Then the voice of Warren in a pitch of wilder consternation:

"Carter! for the love of God, put back the slab and get out of this if you can! Quick!—leave everything else and make for the outside—it's your only chance! Do as I say, and don't ask me to explain!"

I heard, yet was able only to repeat my frantic questions. Around me were the tombs and the darkness and the shadows; below me, some peril beyond the radius of the human imagination. But my friend was in greater danger than I, and through my fear I felt a vague resentment that he should deem me capable of deserting him under such circumstances. More clicking, and after a pause a piteous cry from Warren:

"Beat it! For God's sake, put back the slab and beat it, Carter!"

Something in the boyish slang of my evidently stricken companion unleashed my faculties. I formed and shouted a resolution, "Warren, brace up! I'm coming down!" But at this offer the tone of my auditor changed to a scream of utter despair:

"Don't! You can't understand! It's too late—and my own fault. Put back the slab and run—there's nothing else you or anyone can do now!" The tone changed again, this time acquiring a softer quality, as of hopeless resignation. Yet it remained tense through anxiety for me.

"Quick—before it's too late!" I tried not to heed him; tried to break through the paralysis which held me, and to fulfil my vow to rush down to his aid. But his next whisper found me still held inert in the chains of stark horror.

"Carter—hurry! It's no use—you must go—better one than two—the slab—" A pause, more clicking, then the faint voice of Warren:

"Nearly over now—don't make it harder—cover up those damned steps and run for your life—you're losing time— So long, Carter—won't see you again." Here Warren's whisper swelled into a cry; a cry that gradually rose to a shriek fraught with all the horror of the ages—

"Curse these hellish things—legions— My God! Beat it! Beat it! Beat it!"

After that was silence. I know not how many interminable aeons I sat stupefied; whispering, muttering, calling, screaming into that telephone. Over and over again through those aeons I whispered and muttered, called, shouted, and screamed, "Warren! Warren! Answer me—are you there?"

And then there came to me the crowning horror of all—the unbelievable, unthinkable, almost unmentionable thing. I have said that aeons seemed to elapse after Warren shrieked forth his last despairing warning, and that only my own cries now broke the hideous silence. But after a while there was a further clicking in the receiver, and I strained my ears to listen. Again I called down, "Warren, are you there?", and in answer heard the thing which has brought this cloud over my mind. I do not try, gentlemen, to account for that thing—that voice—nor can I venture to describe it in detail, since the first words took away my consciousness and created a mental blank which reaches to the time of my awakening in the hospital. Shall I say that the voice was deep; hollow; gelatinous; remote; unearthly; inhuman; disembodied? What shall I say? It was the end of my experience, and is the end of my story. I heard it, and knew no more. Heard it as I sat petrified in that unknown cemetery in the hollow, amidst the crumbling stones and the falling tombs, the rank vegetation and the miasmal vapours. Heard it well up from the innermost depths of that damnable open sepulchre as I watched amorphous, necrophagous shadows dance beneath an accursed waning moon. And this is what it said:


Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Y Scaa Harrish Innsmouth: Y Faishneyr

StateLibQld 1 115060 Interior of a shop at Killarney, 1910-1920

By haittin lhiam faagail y barroose, as hie mee çhelleeragh dys shamyr ‘ailt boght y thie oast son dy hashtey y kishtey troailtys aym. Cha row agh un fer ry-akin—shenn dooinney gyn y “blass Innsmouth”, myr va mee smooinaghtyn er nish—as reih mee gyn feysht jeh er ny cooishyn va boirey orrym. Chooinnee mee dy row ad er vakin reddyn quaagh ‘sy thie oast shoh. Ny share, hooill mee ‘sy cherrin—va’n barroose ersooyl hannah—as cur shilley kiarailagh as smooinaghtagh er y reayrtys.

Va linney jeeragh ny h-awiney er un çheu y cherrin feayn mooirlaigagh. Va lieh-chiarkyl dy hieyn breekey er sceau er y çheu elley, ass amm 1800 er lhiam. Heeyn straiddyn nyn drooid lesh y jiass, sheear-yiass as shiar-yiass. By ghoan ny sollyssyn v’ayn, as ad nyn sollyssyn bane heh gyn monney bree. Va boggey mooar orrym dy row eh foym faagail roish y cheeiraght, ga dy nee eayst yial v’ayn noght.

Va ny thieyn ayns stayd mie dy liooar, as nyn mast’oc va mysh dussan dy happyn dellal foast. Va fo-happ groseyragh y cholught Kied Ashoonagh ayn, chammah’s thie bee groamagh, drugglann, oik delleyder eeastyn slanechreck, as ec kione hiar y cherrin rish yn awin, honnick mee oik çhynskyl ynrican y valley—Colught Sheelee Varsh. Va mysh jeih dy 'leih ry-akin, as roank dy ghleashtanyn as lorreeyn, kiare ny queig foddee. Hoig mee gyn soilshaghey dy nee mean baljagh Innsmouth v’ayn. My hiar hooar mee shilley beg gorrym jeh’n phurt, as dirree kirp holtanagh tree speeikyn Shorysagh nyn’oi, aalin keayrt dy row. Rish y clyst er broogh elley ny h-awiney, honnick mee y chlagys vane er kione ny chreid mee dy nee thie sheelee Varsh v’ayn.

Aght ennagh reih mee dy ghoaill toshiaght ‘sy çhapp groseyragh, raad veagh neuinnsmouthee gobbraghey, s’cosoylagh. Hooar mee aegan ny lomarcan freayll arrey er, mysh shiaght-jeig d’eash, as by haittin lhiam fakin dy nee gilley bioyr as coar v’ayn; cowrey soilshaghey gennal, er lhiam. V’eh jeant magh erskyn towse dy loayrt rhym, as hoig mee dy leah nagh by vie lesh y balley, y soar eeastagh v’er, chamoo yn sleih sleetçhagh v’ayn. By haghyrt feayslee eh goaill cowag marish fer joarree erbee. V’eshyn ass Arkham, as goaill aaght marish lught-thie ass Ipswich; hie eh thie erash da’n valley dooghys dagh keayrt va eer shallid seyrey echey. Cha by haittin lesh y chynney echey dy row eh gobbraghey ayns Innsmouth, agh va’n colught er ny astreeaghey dys y valley as cha row mian echey dy choayl y staartey.

Rere eshyn, cha row lioarlann theayagh ny sheshaght lught traghtee erbee ayns Innsmouth, agh er lesh dy dod mee feddyn y raad. She Federal y straid haink mee sheese eh. My heear va ny shenn straiddyn cummaltee ooasley ayn—Broad, Washington, Lafayette, as Adams—as ny slummaghyn marrey my hiar. As mish son fakin ny shenn cheeillyn Shoryssagh, v’adsyn ry-gheddyn ayns ny slummaghyn shen—rish Main Street—agh v’ad treigit rish bleeantyn. Bare dou gyn tayrn sooillyn y sleih orrym ayns lheid ny naboonys, as çheu hwoaie ny h-awiney erskyn ooilley. She sleih groamagh as noidagh v’ayn, as va fer joarree ny ghaa er skellal roish, e ‘ockle er.

Va kuse dy vuill nyn dhallooghyn obbit, as dynsee eh shen er leagh geiltagh. Myr sampleyr, bare dhyt gyn streeley faggys da thie sheelee Varsh, ny mygeayrt keeill erbee ren ad ymmyd jee foast, chamoo mygeayrt halley collooagh Oardyr Ghagon rish New Church Green. Va ny kialteenyn ooilley shen quaagh ass towse—jeean-obbit ec ny rheynnyn credjue lhiassit oc ‘sy teihll smoo, as ren ad ymmyd jeh eaddagh cleragh as greieyn jesh-chliaghtagh lane joarree. Va credjue sou-chredjuagh as folliaghtagh oc, as blass caghlaa yindyssagh ennagh lhiggagh sheerid—jeh sorçh ennagh—er y chruinney t’ayn. Va bochilley anmey y yilley hene—yn Olloo Wallace ec Keeill Asbury M.E. ayns Arkham—er ny choyrlaghey dy trome gyn bentyn rish keeill erbee ayns Innsmouth.

As sleih Innsmouth – by ghoillee da’n aegan bun ny baare daue y hoiggal. V’ad wheesh sleetçhagh as beiyn towlee, as wheesh goan v’ad ry-akin. Cha dod eh sheiltyn cre’n aght cheau ad y traa, agh rish eeastaght. Rere y lansh dy liggar smugglit v’ad giu, foddee dy cheau ad ooryn sollys yn laa nyn dhollaneys meshtoil. Er lhiat dy row coheshaghtys as toiggalys phooitçhagh ennagh nyn giangley rish y cheilley—hoie ad beg jeh’n thalloo myr dy row seihill elley as ny share so-roshtyn oc. Va’n cummey orroo craaynagh dy liooar—as ny sooillyn blakey nagh veek erskyn ooilley, cha vaikagh oo arragh ad dooney—as va coraaghyn feodagh oc. By agglagh eh ad y chlashtyn jannoo canteyragh ‘syn agglish er oie, as er ny h-ard-‘eillaghyn erskyn ooilley, daa cheayrt ‘sy vlein er 30oo laa Averil as 31d laa Jerrey Fouyir.

Bynney lhieu yn ushtey, as v’ad gamylt dy kinjagh ‘syn awin chamoo ‘sy phurt. Shimmey ratçh snauee dys Sker y Jouyll v’ayn, as va niart ec cagh honnick oo ‘sy ‘traid dy ghoaill ayrn ‘sy spoyrt doccaragh. Smooinaghtyn er, cha vaik oo agh y sleih s’assey dy foshlit son y chooid smoo, as she yn sleih shinney nyn mast’oc va’n cummey breinnit stroshey orroo. Tra va lhimmey ayn, she sleih gyn eer blass anreiltys v’ayn, myr sampleyr, y shenn chleragh ‘sy thie oast. Hug eh ort smooinaghtyn er c’red haghyr da cooid smoo y ‘leih shinney, as mannagh row “jeeagh Innsmouth” ny phenomenon doghanagh molteyragh ghow greim orroo rish çhyndaa ny bleeantyn.

Gyn ourys, cha noddagh agh doghan goan cur lheid y ceaghley trome dewil kirpey er peiagh aasit—va ny caghlaaghyn bentyn rish troyn lane vunneydagh, goaill stiagh cummey y chlaigin—agh smooinnee er, cha row y ceaghley claigin shen ny s’quaaghey chamoo ny smoo gyn enney na troyn baghtal elley ny çhingys ‘sy clane. By ghoillee eh jannoo briwnys fondagh er y chooish, er lesh; gyn scansh da cre choud v’ou cummal ayns Innsmouth, cha jig oo dy ve ainjyssagh rish ny cummaltee.

Va’n aegan lane shickyr dy row surransee elley, ny smessey foast na’n fer smessey vaikagh oo ‘sy ‘traid, freillt sthie fo ghlass ayns buill ennagh. Ny keayrtyn, cheayll sleih sheeanyn quaagh ass towse. Va sannish ayn jeh thiollaneyn follit chiangil ny shenn waaneyn marrey tholtanagh çheu hwoaie jeh’n awin, as myr shen she shelleig hene dy anreiltys ‘ollit v’ayn. My va fuill yoarree erbee ec ny cummaltee ny dyn, cha noddagh oo jannoo briwnys. Ny keayrtyn, tra haink jantee y reiltys ny fir “yoarree” elley dys y valley, v’ad freayll y sleih smoo granoil ass shilley.

Dooyrt eh nagh neeu eh briaght jeh ny cummaltee mychione y valley. Cha row agh un ‘er arryltagh son cowag; shenn shenn ‘er gyn y jeeagh Innsmouth, chum ayns thie y voght rish oirr hwoaie y valley, as cheau ny laaghyn rish shooyl mygeayrt, ny streeley rish thie ny firvooghee. She Zadok Allen v’ayn, sheer-veshtallagh lheeah y valley, kiare feed as shey-jeig d’eash as beggan eddrym ‘sy chione. She dooinney sleetçhagh quaagh v’ayn, sheer cur shilley bieau mygeayrt myr dy row aggle echey er red ennagh, as tra v’eh sheelt cha jinnagh eh loayrt fockle erbee rish fer joarree. Agh ny yei shen, cha dod eh obbal y reih jough echey, as er meshtey verragh eh aachooinaghtyn brishtey erskyn credjue dty myr sannish.

Agh son shen as ooilley, cha row monney fysseree ymmydoil ry-gheddyn assyn; she skeealyn keoie v’echey, sannishyn jeh yindyssyn neuchredjallagh as atçhimyn nagh daink agh ass e heiltynys baanrit hene. Cha ren peiagh erbee rieau credjal eh, agh bare lesh ny h-Innsmouthee nagh ren eh iu as coloayrt marish joarreeyn, as cha row eh lane sauçhey goll er fakin tra v’ou feyshtey eh. Gyn ourys, she ny dooyrt eh va bun ny sannishyn theay as shaghraneyn smoo keoie.

Va kuse dy chummaltee joarree er chur coontaghyn jeh shillaghyn beggey eajee, agh eddyr skeealyn shenn Zadok as ny fir ghooie meechummit, cha nyrrys dy row lheid ny h-ashlishyn ayn. Cha ren neughooghyssee rieau tannaghtyn mooie ‘syn oie, son va toiggalys chadjin ayn nagh beagh shen creeney. Anshaght, va ny straiddyn doo feohdoil.

As çheet er dellal—she nairt quaagh dy eeastyn v’ayn, dy jarroo, agh beggan er veggan va ny cummaltee jannoo ny sloo as ny sloo ymmyd jeu. Chammah’s shen, va leaghyn tuittym as cohirrey gaase. She y thie sheelee va preeu-dellal y valley, gyn ourys, as va’n oik traghtee oc ‘sy cherrin, dorrys ny ghaa çheu hiar jin. Cha ren oo rieau fakin Shenn Varsh, agh hie eh da’n thie nish as reesht ayns gleashtan doont as curtan echey.

Shimmey sannish v’ayn mychione y cummey v’er jeet er Marsh. She friplas mooar v’ayn keayrt dy row, as dooyrt ad dy cheau eh foast jesheenys ghooynagh ny h-eash Edardagh, er ny aayannoo quaagh dys cormal rish lheamys ennagh. Va ny mec er reaghey yn oik ‘sy cherrin, agh dy jeianagh v’adsyn freayll ass shilley dy mennick, as faagail cooid strimmey ny cooishyn da’n çheeloghe aeg. Va cummey feer neuchadjin er jeet er ny mec as inneenyn, myr shinney smessey; as dooyrt ad dy row ad goll sheese y lhargagh.

Va ben ghraynoil offidagh mastey inneenyn Marsh; cheau ish mooarane cliejeenys whaagh, as shen dy baghtal rere y tradishoon joarree cheddin as y tiara quaagh. Va’n faishneyder aym er ngoaill tastey jeh dy mennick, as er glashtyn dy daink eh ass tashtey follit ennagh, lesh roosteyryn marrey ny lesh jouyil. Cheau yn chlere—ny saggyrtyn, ny cre erbee v’ad cur orroosyn nish—lheid y jesheenys myrgeddin myr eaddagh king; agh s’goan ghoghe oo eer shilley bieau jeusyn. Cha row yn aegan er vakin sampleyryn elley, agh rere yn ‘ou va mooarane jeu ayns Innsmouth.

Va ny Marshyn, chammah’s lughtyn-thie ooasley elley y valley—ny Waiteyn, ny Gilmanyn, as ny h-Eliotyn—lane ‘aitagh. V’ad cummal ayns thieyn foawragh er Washington Street, as myr yiarragh y theay, v’ad cur fastee keiltagh da kuse dy vooinjer nagh b’lhoys daue goll mastey’n theay er coontey’n chummey v’oc, as v’er ngeddyn baase rere y recortys oikoil.

Hug yn aegan raaue dou dy row ymmodee cowraghyn straiddey caillt, as ghow eh triorys dy hayrn caslys-baljey ooilley-ghoaillys er my hon chowree ny buill rhue; v'eh garroo, agh by liooar eh. Erreish dou cur geill da rish shallid, heill mee dy beagh eh ymmydoil ass towse, as hug mee stiagh eh ‘sy phoagey aym lesh cur bwooise mooar da. Cha by vie lhiam cummey y thie bee ynrican sallagh va mee er vakin, myr shen chionnee mee cooid vie dy brishtagyn caashey as oalanyn jinshar son kirbyl. V’eh foym shooyl ny h-ard-raaidyn, goaill cowag marish fir neughooie erbee vennin roo, as geddyn y barroose cour Arkham ec hoght er y chlag. Hoig mee dy baghtal dy row y balley shoh ny hampleyr scanshoil mooadit jeh leodaghey baljagh; agh son nagh nee sheshoayllee mish, yinnin lhiettal my feer vaghtyn da ard-obbrinys.

Monday, 19 May 2014


Manston Churchyard


Lesh goaill arrane ayns ny raaidyn mooarey, as jummal traa marish contoyrtee hrullee, hie Foaynoo shaghey y vard.

As ren y bard foast atteeyn beggey ass arrane jee, dys jesheenaghey e baaish eddin ayns quaillyn Hraa; as 'syn ynnod oc, cheau ish foast ny slonganyn gyn feeu hilg feallee annymoil huick ‘sy raad, jeant jeh reddyn çherraghtagh.

As lurg tammylt, tra hooar ny slonganyn baase, boallagh y bard çheet jee as atteeyn arrane echey jee; as boallagh ee gearey er as ceau foast ny slonganyn gyn feeu, ga dy dooar ad rieau baase ‘syn ‘astyr.

As laa dy row as eshyn sharroo hug y bard oghsan jee, as gra: “Foaynoo aalin, eer fo-raad as fo-straaid cha nel oo shaghney gearey orrym as yllagh as spotçhal marish riftanyn, as mish t’er dooilleil er-dty-hon as er nreamal jeed, t’ou craidey moom as goll my haghey.”

As hyndaa Foaynoo e h-eddin jeh as shooyl voish, agh lesh faagail yeeagh eh harrish e geaylin as mynghearey er mongey nagh row eck roie, as, faggys myr hannish, dooyrt ee:

“Higym dty whaiyl ‘sy ruillick çheu-chooylloo Hie ny Moght ayns keead bleeaney.”

The Assignation

Fame singing in the highways, and trifling as she sang, with sordid adventurers, passed the poet by.

And still the poet made for her little chaplets of song, to deck her forehead in the courts of Time: and still she wore instead the worthless garlands, that boisterous citizens flung to her in the ways, made out of perishable things.

And after a while whenever these garlands died the poet came to her with his chaplets of song; and still she laughed at him and wore the worthless wreaths, though they always died at evening.

And one day in his bitterness the poet rebuked her, and said to her: "Lovely Fame, even in the highways and the byways you have not foreborne to laugh and shout and jest with worthless men, and I have toiled for you and dreamed of you and you mock me and pass me by."

And Fame turned her back on him and walked away, but in departing she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him as she had not smiled before, and, almost speaking in a whisper, said:

"I will meet you in the graveyard at the back of the Workhouse in a hundred years."

Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Assignation liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

Monday, 12 May 2014

Wiki: Çhyndaadeyr imraaghyn


Foddee y greie shoh cur Gaelg er clowanyn imraa cadjin (cite web, cite journal, cite book).

Cha nel far-inçhynaght echey; myr shen, shegin dhyt shickyraghey y teks ny yei çhyndaa! T'eh cur parameteryn 'sy Ghaelg ayns ynnyd adsyn 'sy Vaarle. Verragh eh ad ayns ynnydyn neuchooie ny keayrtyn, foddee. Cur fys dou my vaikys oo marranys ennagh jeant echey as nee'm my chooid share eshyn y charraghey.

Dys jannoo ymmyd jeu, cur teks ass Wiki ny Baarle stiagh 'sy chishtey heese as crig er y chramman cooie. Ta'n rheynn s'inshley lhiggey dhyt (wahll, douys) çhyndaadeyryn noa y chroo dy aashagh (agh t'eh brisht nish er fa ennagh).

Ren mee y greie shoh son my ynnyd-eggey bunneydagh nagh vel aym foast. S'treisht lhiam dy nee eh gobbraghey dy mie ayns shoh.

Sunday, 11 May 2014

Obbraghyn Vayrt

Cha nel monney noa ry-gheddyn ec y traa t'ayn, s'treih lhiam. Ta mee foast gobbraghey er Innsmouth, as ta shalee noa greesee aym nagh vel mee son loayrt er ec y traa t'ayn, son aggle nagh jig lhiam eh. T'eh troggal beggan er veggan.

Oh, as ta mee scughey cooid ynnyd-eggey Kishtey Stoo Yuan dys shoh.

Cha ren mee monney er y Wiki rish meeghyn - s'treih lhiam shen ass towse, ghow mee ram soylley jeh my obbyr ayns shen, agh cha row traa ny bree dy liooar aym son shen rish tammylt. She shalee feeu t'ayn, ta mee shickyr, agh cha nel monney sleih goaill ayrn aynsyn as ta shen mooghey yn aigney aym red beg.

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Aggyrt eddyrashoonagh liorish studeyryn son yl-raghys ayns tarmaynys

Ta'n screeuyn foshlit shoh screeuit ec yl-phossan dy studeyryn as roie-studeyryn tarmaynys. T'ad gaghin son aght ynsee noa ayns studeyrys tarmaynagh, son nagh vel yn ynsaghey t'ayn dyn nyannoo aarloo da rieughid tarmaynys chamoo dy 'eaysley feer 'eyshtyn y teihill. Ta carrey aym goaill ayrn scanshoil 'sy ghleashaght, as myr shen ta mee clashtyn reddyn myechione; er lhiam dy neeu eh Gaelg y chur er screeuyn shoh myr beggan naight. Fow oo y screeuyn bunneydagh ec

Aggyrt eddyrashoonagh liorish studeyryn son yl-raghys ayns tarmaynys

Cha nee farrys y teihill ynrican ta fo gheyre-ghaue. Ta ynsaghey tarmaynagh fo gheyre-ghaue myrgeddin, as ta cummaght echey er cooishyn foddey jeh boallaghyn ollooscoillyn. Ta cooid ynsee kiaddey barelyn as smooinaghtyn crooteyryn polaase, as myr shen t’eh kiaddey ny sheshaghtyn ta shinyn cummal ayndaue. As shin 42 heshaght studeyryn tarmaynys ayns 19 çheeraghyn, er lhien dy vel y traa er jeet dy yannoo aavriwnys noa er aght ynsee tarmaynys. Cha nel shin bwooiagh dy vel cooid y choorse er geyllaghey dy trome rish y feed blein s’jerree. Ta’n dolley caghlaays smooinaght shoh lhiettal ynsaghey as ronsaghey, agh ny smessey foast, t’eh lhiettal nyn ablid dy ghellal rish feyshtyn yl-eddinagh y 21oo eash – anchorraghys argidoil, shickyrys beaghey, caghlaa speyr. Shegin dooin aachur cooishyn yn ‘eer seihll stiagh ‘sy çhamyr vrastyl, chammahs resoonaght as caghlaaghyn sheiltynys as saase. Nee shen cooney lhien y magher y yannoo ass y noa, as fy-yerrey dy chroo çhymbyllaght chooie dy yientyn freggyrtyn da feyshtyn sheshaght.

Harrish cagliaghyn, ta shin gaghin arraghey. Cha nel shin lhiggey er dy vel freggyrt slane jeant ain, agh cha nel ourys erbee ain dy yinnagh eh foays da studeyryn tarmaynys bentyn rish caghlaaghyn reayrtys as barel. Veagh yl-raghys cooney lhien lhiasaghey ynsaghey as ronsaghey, as cur bee noa stiagh ‘sy vagher; dy jarroo, ta niart ec yl-raghys dy aawhingaghey tarmaynys son shirveish y theay. Shegin dooin cur tree sorçhyn yl-raghys ec mean y choorse: sheiltynagh, saasagh as eddyr-cheirdagh.

Ta yl-raghys heiltynagh cur trimmid er yn ‘eme dy haishbyney reih s’lhea dy lughtyn tuarym ‘sy choorse. Cha nel shin shassoo noi mynphoyntyn tradishoon tarmaynagh er lheh; cha nee reih çheu ta bun yl-raghys. Share lhien greinnaghey resoonaght lane smooinaght, as ynsaghey dy chosoylaghey barelyn dy cremeydagh. Ta keirdyn elley cur failt er yl-raghys as gynsaghey sheiltynyssyn do-chohassoo; son y chooid smoo, t’ad taishbyney tarmaynys myr çhaglym dy smooinaght unnaneit. Dy jarroo, ta caghlaays sthie ‘syn ard-tradishoon, agh cha nel agh un aght t’ayn dy yannoo tarmaynys as toiggal y feer seihll. Cha nel y lheid ry-akin ayns keirdyn elley: quoi goghe rish coorse keim shickoaylleeaght nagh verragh geill agh da Freudaghys, ny rish coorse politickagh ta cur tastey ynrican da soshiallys steat? Lhisagh ynsaghey tarmaynagh ooilley-ghoaillys cummalagh ve troggit er taishbyney corrym jeh ymmodee reayrtys sheiltynagh, veih ny saaseyn noa-chlassicagh ta goll er ynsagh dy cadjin, dys tradishoonyn classicagh, lurg-Cheynesagh, commynagh, eggoaylleeagh, bwoirrinagh, feminagh, Marxagh as Austeyragh (mastey fir elley) ta faagit magh son y chooid smoo. Shimmey studeyr tarmaynys ta geddyn keim gyn eer bentyn rish lheid ny reayrtyssyn ‘sy çhamyr vrastyl.

Chammah’s shen, shegin da bun-choorseyn goaill stiagh fo-choorseyn ta taishbyney coheks as çhymbyllaght as ta gientyn smooinaght ghooghyssagh mychione tarmaynys as saaseyn tarmaynagh per se, goaill stiagh fallsoonys tarmanys as sheiltynys toiggalys. Er y fa nagh nod oo toiggal sheiltynys dy slane gyn çheet er y choheks shennaghyssagh chur er bun ad, ta feme er taishbyney oardrailagh da shennaghys smooinaght harmaynagh, screeuyn classicagh er tarmaynys, as shennaghys tarmaynagh. Ec y traa t’ayn, ta lheid ny bun-chooishyn seiht da çhemmalyn coorseyn tarmaynagh, ny cha nel ad ayn.

Ta yl-raghys saaseagh gra dy nhegin da tarmeynee jannoo ymmyd jeh teiy s’lhea dy ghreieyn son dy ‘eaysley feyshtyn tarmaynagh. Dy baghtal, ta maddaght as staddyssaght ard-scanshoil ‘sy cheird. Agh ro-vennick ta studeyryn gynsaghey saaseyn mooadagh gyn rieau resoonagh magh my lhisagh ad jannoo ymmyd jeu as cre’n fa lhisagh, ny cur geill da ny reih vinn t’ad gobbraghey orroo, ny cooieid ny h-eiyrtyssyn. Chammah’s shen, shimmey ayrn tarmaynys t’ayn nagh vel ry-hoiggal liorish saaseyn mooadagh nyn lomarcan. Son obbyr harmaynagh fondagh, shegin dooin jannoo co-ymmyd jeh saaseyn mooadagh chammah’s saaseyn oaylleeaghtyn sheshoil elley. Myr sampleyr, yinnagh eh shareaghey toiggalys commynyn as cultoor dy verragh ad ny smoo geill da saaseyn quallidagh ‘sy choorse tarmaynagh. Agh son y chooid smoo, cha nel studeyryn tarmaynagh goaill ayrn ayns brastyl erbee mychione saaseyn quallidagh.

As fy-yerrey, lhisagh ynsaghey tarmaynagh goaill stiagh saaseyn eddyr-cheirdagh, as lowal studeyryn dy chur geill da oaylleeaghtyn sheshoil elley chammah’s studeyrys-sheelnaue. She oaylleeaght heshoil ee tarmaynys; s’goan ta phenomena tarmaynagh crampey ry-hoiggal my t’ad goll er taishbyney nyn lomarcan, gyn coheks sheshoaylleeagh, politickagh as shennaghyssagh. Dys resooney magh polaase tarmaynagh dy fondagh, lhisagh studeyryn toiggal cummaghtyn sheshoil foddey as bree moralagh ny briwnyssyn tarmaynagh.

Bee caghlaaghyn aght ayn dy chooilleeney lheid yn yl-raghys ayns caghlaaghyn boayl, agh shoh kuse dy eieyn son cooilleeney ad:

  • Failley ynseyderyn as ronseyderyn verr lhieu yl-raghyn sheiltynagh as saaseyn stiagh ‘sy choorse tarmaynagh;
  • Croo teksyn as greieyn ynsee elley dys cummal coorseyn yl-raghyssagh;
  • Jannoo oikoil co-obbraghey eddyr rheynnyn oaylleeaght heshoil as rheynnyn studeyrys-sheelnaue, ny cur er bun sar-rheynnyn verr rick er coorseyn eddyr-cheirdagh ta mestey tarmaynys as keirdyn elley.

Bee dooillee eh caghlaa reddyn – s’dooillee eh dy kinjagh. Agh t’eh er bun hannah. Ta studeyryn er feie ny cruinney er ngoaill toshiaght dy chaghlaa reddyn keim er cheim. Ta shin er lhieeney hallaghyn leaght ayns leaghtyn shiaghtin liorish loayreyderyn cuirrit, er cooishyn nagh vel ry-akin ‘sy choorse; ta shin er reaghey possanyn lhaih, keirdlannyn, cohagglooyn; ta shin er mynscrutaghey coorseyn jeinagh as er nyannoo cummaghyn jeh coorseyn elley; ta shin er ngoaill toshaight ynsaghey shin hene as sleih elley ny coorseyn noa by vie lhien dy jagh ad er ynsaghey. Ta shin er chur er bun sheshaghtyn ollooscoillagh, as er naase moggylyn ashoonagh as eddyrashoonagh.

Shegin da caghlaa aase ass ymmodee buill. Myr shen, nish ta shin cur failt orroo – studeyryn, tarmaynee, neu-harmaynee – dy heet stiagh marin as troggal y glout femoil son caghlaa. Jeeagh er Support us (cooney lhien) dy haishbyney dy vel oo marin as dy chiangley rish ny moggylyn ain ta gaase foast. Trooid as trooid, ta yl-raghys ayns ynsaghey tarmaynagh femoil son resooney pobbylagh sunt. She cooish deynlaght t’ayn.

Fo-screeuit, bun-heshaghtyn yn International Student Initiative for Pluralism in Economics:

Sociedad de Economía Crítica Argentina y Uruguay
Society for Pluralist Economics Vienna
Nova Ágora
Mouvement étudiant québécois pour un enseignement pluraliste de l'économie
Estudios Nueva Economía
Grupo de estudiantes y egresados de la Facultad de Economía y Negocios de la Universidad de Chile
Det Samfundsøkonomiske Selskab (DSS)
Post-Crash Economics Society Essex
Cambridge Society for Economic Pluralism
Better Economics UCLU
Post-Crash Economics Society Manchester
SOAS Open Economics Forum
Alternative Thinking for Economics Society, Sheffield University
LSE Post-Crash Economics England
Pour un Enseignement Pluraliste de l'Economie dans le Supérieur (PEPS-Economie)
Netzwerk Plurale Ökonomik (Network for Pluralist Economics)
Oikos Köln
Real World Economics, Mainz
Kritische WissenschaftlerInnen Berlin
Arbeitskreis Plurale Ökonomik, Bayreuth
Arbeitskreis Plurale Ökonomik, München
Oikos Leipzig
Was ist Ökonomie, Berlin
Impuls. für eine neue Wirtschaft, Erfurt
Ecoation, Augsburg, Germany
Kritische Ökonomen, Frankfurt
Arbeitskreis Plurale Ökonomik, Hamburg
Real World Economics, Heidelberg
Stundent HUB Weltethos Institut Tübingen
LIE - Lost in Economics e.V., Regensburg
Javadhpur University Heterodox Economics Association
Economics Student Forum - Tel Aviv
Economics Student Forum - Haifa (Rethinking Economics)
Rethinking Economics Italia
Oeconomicus Economic Club MGIMO
Glasgow University Real World Economics Society
Movement for Pluralistic Economics
Post-Crash Barcelona
Asociación de Estudiantes de Económicas de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid
Lunds Kritiska Ekonomer
Handels Students for Sustainability
Rethinking Economics
Rethinking Economics New York
Sociedad de Economia Critica

Saturday, 26 April 2014

Fogrey beg

Cha s'aym my ta peiagh erbee jeeaghyn er yn ynnyd-eggey Kishtey Fys Yuan t'aym - ynnyd-echey firrinagh, cha nee y bloggey shoh t'ayn. Wahll, bee eh caillt aym rish mee ny ghaa er y fa dy vel eh kianglt rish y staartey aym, as cha bee eshyn ayms dy leah. Myr shen, t'eh foym scughey ny noddym jeh dys yn ynnyd shoh. Jus cur fys diu.

Thursday, 24 April 2014

Baght: Black Wings of Cthulhu

For anyone who doesn't yet read Manx... here's the English edition.

Shoh coontey jeh lioar Black Wings of Cthulhu, reaghit ec ST Joshi. She "21 skeealyn dy scoagh Lovecraftagh" t'ayn, as verrym dhyt coontey giare jeh dagh fer. Bee milleyderyn ry-akin erreish da kied raa jeh dagh coontey giare, myr shen, bee er dty hwoaie my ta shen boirey ort. Ren mee eab dy haghney mynphoyntyn son y chooid smoo, agh bee craueyn ny skeealyn ry-akin.

Ta giare-choontey gyn milleyder ry-akin heese.

Pickman's Other Model

Ta ben hampleyragh Phickman (dy row) goaill ayrn ayns pornografee quaagh; t'ad feddyn bagh dy vel skeeal bea quaagh eck; t'ee geddyn baase. Va'n skeeal shoh gollrish skeeal Lovecraft; va dagh ooilley olt ry-akin, bunnys. Agh aght ennagh cha daink lhee eh. Va ny reayrtyssyn mie dy liooar, as v'ad cochianglt, agh dennee eh dooys dy nee straih dy reayrtyssyn t'ayn gyn y skeeal smoo s'quaaghey nyn gooyl. Cha ren Lovecraft rieau cur jerrey er skeeal gyn fys ort er ny haghyr dy firrinagh, er cre va scansh y skeeal. Agh 'sy skeeal shoh cha row fys aym er cre'n fa varr peiagh y ven, as quoi varr ee. Hooar mee lieh-ansoor 'sy jerrey agh cha row eh feeu, dennee mee "as shen y clane skeeal?". Moal.

Desert Dreams

Ta'n ard-charracteyr surranse ashlishyn beayn jeh faasagh, as rish shirrey eh t'eh feddyn magh firrinys atçhimagh. By vie lhiam aght screeuee y skeeal, as er lhiam dy ren eh obbyr vie jeh'n troap "ashlishyn quaaghey". Cha row eh lane Lovecraftagh, agh dy jarroo v'eh ayns orragey mynchlagh. Shen er coontey'n jerrey, foddee? Cha row mee jerkal y jerrey (cummey y jerrey, chamoo dy jig y jerrey cha leah), as cha nel shen rere aght Lovecraft, boallagh da cur cowraghyn baghtal jeh'n jerrey ry-heet. Ny yei shen ghow mee soylley kiune jeh. V'eh beggan shang, foddee? Agh shen cosoylit rish prose çhiu Lovecraft. Chammah's shen, er y fa dy row mee jerkal jerrey Lovecraftagh cowrit rolaue er coontey'n caslys eddyr oc, cha hoig mee dy row mee faggys da'n jerrey, er lhiam dy nee mean y skeeal t'ayn. Myr shen, ren shen cassey'n aght lhaih mee eh. Fondagh.


She skeeal jeih duillagyn t'ayn, as ta shey jeu gyn bun ny bree. She accanyn t'ayn, accanyn unsheenagh drogh-chaanytagh gyn sheiltynys erbee; s'goan ta fys ny anaase erbee ry-gheddyn assdaue, as share dhyt goll shagh'oc gyn jummal traa, cha nee eh bentyn rish y skeeal. Ayns ny kiare duillagyn s'jerree yiow oo skeealeen scoaghagh. Cha nel bun fondagh dou gra nagh nee skeeal Lovecraftagh t'ayn - t'eh bentyn rish tasht-fockle Lovecraft as ny cooishyn cheddin. Ny yei shen, dennee mee dy noddagh oo er soieaghey y skeeal cheddin ayns tradishoon scoaghagh erbee ny Fyssaght, dy veagh oo blieh ersooyl ny h-enmyn Lovecraftagh as cur stiagh fir elley. Cha row monney 'sy skeeal chowree eh myr skeeal ny Mythos, chamoo blass ny aght soilshee. S'treih lhiam gra, er lhiam, dy vel skeealeen mie aynsyn, agh t'ee baiht ayns script fillym kimmeeys jiooldit.

Copping Squid

Ta dooal quaagh as anaase erskyn smaght tayrn dooinney cadjin dys buill whaagh as taishbyney agglagh nagh dod eh shassoo noi. Cha noddym sheiltyn Lovecraft hene screeu er y vun-chooish shoh, agh she skeeal braew t'ayn. Haink lesh goaill er hene ynnyd fondagh 'sy Vythos ga dy vel scanshyn bun-chooish as glare eddyr oc. T'eh cur orrym aachooinaghtyn Hypnos ny The Shunned House; shoh skeeal elley er ashlish as er atçhim ry-laue, as er lhiam nagh vel eh neuchooie er chor erbee. Ta'n chooish as ennaghtyn er rere aght Lovecraft, as ta trimmid kynoauin ry-ennaghtyn aynsyn. Ta quaaghid folliaghtagh sheeley ny hrooid, as ta'n screeudeyr gientyn caslys baghtal as so-chredjal jeh'n dooaleyr, ny chorp moal as aigney lane niartal echey, lane dy charismey keoie. Foddym credjal dy verragh eh lheid ny chummaght er yn insheyder.

Passing Spirits

Ta fer er raad y vaaish as branlaadee. Hoshiaght t'eh fakin scaa Lovecraft, as eisht sleih as cretooryn ass ny skeealyn. Ta'n ghlooaght Mythos-'sy-duillag echey wheesh as y Kicklipaid, bunnys, as er lhiam dy vel y kiart cheddin ec y jees dy ghra dy nee skeeal Lovecraftagh t'ayn. Cha nel folliaght erbee ayn, cha nel feer Vythos ayn, as cha nel blass Lovecraft erbee er strughtoor, aght ny cooish y skeeal. Cha nee skeeal "c'red ta rieughid" t'an noadyr, ga dy vel eh jannoo far-arrish er y lheid - ta fys fondagh ec y dooinney er ny ta taghyrt as cre'n fa. Ta blass skeeal troailt traa er y chied duillag, eisht rere tree ny ghaa chreid mee dy nee homage Blithe Spirits t'ayn, agh t'eh baih ayns dreeid. Cha by haittin lhiam lhaih eh ayns çhaglym erbee, gyn çheet er çhaglym chionnee mee rish shirrey cooid gollrish skeealyn Lovecraft. Ta wheesh scansh eddyr eshyn as bun y teihys skeealyn, cha noddym gra my she skeeal lane loghtagh t'ayn ny jus skeeal gyn anaase.

The Broadsword

Ta shenn dooinney cummal ayns shenn thie oast, fo scaa aggle as kyndid bentyn rish taghyrtyn bleeantyn er dy henney. Va ourys orrym hoshiaght, agh er lhiam dy nee skeeal fondagh t'ayn, ga dy vel eh beggan liauyr son y chooid t'aynsyn. Er y laue elley, ta feme er liurid dys carnaneaghey neuhickyrys y lhaihder. Er lhiam dy ren eh taishbyney cooish whaagh craaynagh dy fondagh, as t'eh cummal seose blass neuvaghtal as keoie do nagh vel oo lane shickyr c'red ta rieughid y skeeal derrey'n jerrey. Bare lhiam eie share er bree as obbraghyn ny Nheeghyn, foddee. Trooid as trooid, t'eh feeu lhaih, agh cha nel eh kiart rere y reih aght aym.


Ta drogh-haghyrt raaidjey ayn tra ta dooinney bentyn rish scruin dy chonnspee, agh ta laue liauyr ny Mythos ec bun ny cooish. She eie mie t'ayn as cooilleeney keirdagh; aght ennagh dennee mee dy row eh beggan ro-veein, gyn aunlyn skeeal yindyssagh.

Denker's Book

Giare, bwooise da Jee. Ta cummys anaasoil echey, agh t'ayn skeeal hene çhengey lhiam, çhengey lhiat, as ta blass aayannooagh er. Ren Denker ymmyd jeh'n Necronomicon dy chroo giat eddyr-rieughid ennagh. Ta'n skeeal hene jeant ass soilshaghey magh y chooish ayns peeshyn, agh t'eh baghtal dy liooar dy leah ny haghyr. Ta aght screeuee goll veih'n Tauin gys y Voaldyn; foddee oo lhaih eh, agh cha ghow mee monney soylley jeh.

Inhabitants of Wraithwood

Trooid taghyrt, ta scapailagh jeh pryssoon (ny thie aalaanee) çheet er thie baggyrtagh as goll er stroie ec y pooar t'anysyn. Dennee mee dy row eh mysh tree keayrtyn ny shliurey na row feme ayn. She prose focklagh t'ayn by ghoillee dou lhaih eh, as mish my lhaihder prose cramp Lovecraft! Ga dy nee skeeal liauyr t'ayn, cha nel monney bun-skeeal aynsyn; son y chooid smoo ta ny duillagyn soilshaghey yn ard-charracteyr snapperal jeh taghyrt quaagh dys taghyrt quaagh elley, as cur freggyrt neuhickyragh daue. T'eh cur sheer-gheill da ceau druggyr soccar, ny bun-chooish ta sheer gyn anaase erbee.

Ta folliaght y skeeal ry-akin dy leah - cha nee foill t'ayn, shen cadjin dy liooar - agh erreish dhyt toiggal eh cha nel monney ayn agh taghyrt monneydagh er taghyrt monneydagh. T'eh soilshaghey magh jerrey neuhaghnagh yn ard-charracteyr, agh cha nel mian echey dy chur soilshey da cooishyn ny s'diuney, m.s. bree as scansh y skeeal, as myr shen va blass eaghtyragh echey er lhiam. Shen gollrish kuse dy skeeallyn elley 'sy lioar. Cha row anaase aym er aalhaih eh ayns caa dy row firrinys ennagh ry-gheddyn jeh, v'eh ro-chramp as cha row bree dy liooar aynsyn. Eddyr va rouyr focklaghys mooghey y skeeal neuheiltagh, ny rouyr taghyrt 'sy skeeal scoaghagh ennaghtagh.

The Dome

Ta fer er narraghey dys balley çheerey erreish da goll magh er penshyn, as feddyn magh dy vel taghyrtyn quaagh ry-akin ayns shenn thie. She skeeal neuchramp giare t'ayn, as aght screeuee meein hie shaghym gyn boirey lesh insh y skeeal hene. Cha nel monney mynphoyntyn ny focklaght ayn; t'eh soilshaghey magh y chooish dy fondagh ayns raaghyn beggey as blass coraa yn ard-charracteyr orroo. Cha nee skeeal Gotagh t'ayn, agh skeeal giare by haittin lhiam lhaih eh. Cha nel monney scoagh 'sy chooish, agh shen cadjin dy liooar dy jarroo, as er lhiam dy row eh jeant dy mie. Cha voir agh un meer orrym, ny raa ro-liauyr veagh ny share son rheynn as aainsh: "He was overjoyed at the news, for he loved his pretty little granddaughter who had just graduated from high school and was heading west to a college near Phoenix". Ny skeeal fondagh, cha noddym gra yindyssagh, agh ghoym eh as mish maynrey.


Ta fer sharroo shooyl mygeayrt Rotterdam, geddyn scooyrit as jannoo kimmeeys. Ta'n fockle "Lovecraft" dy mennick ry-akin er feie y skeeal, as cha noddym feddyn bun erbee elley da ve 'sy lioar shoh, son cha nel eh bentyn rish cooishyn, aghtyn ny bree Lovecraft er chor erbee. Er lhiat dy vel corree orrym, foddee, as mish aavooadee y chooish? Ny jean marranys: ta mee lane kiune. Hoshiaght ta sannish quaagh ry-ennaghtyn, bentyn rish ellyn Anthony Gormley, agh cha jig red erbee assjeh, quaagh ny dyn. Myr dooyrt mee er Wraithwood, shegin dou gra nagh vel meshtallys anaasoil ny lane dy vree ass y hene, chamoo ayns lettyraght ny ayns bea. Dy jarroo, son y chooid smoo, ta sleih meshtit dree as/ny boirey ort.

Cha nel mee shickyr er chor erbee cre'n sorçh dy skeeal t'ayn by vie lesh ve, ny t'eh er lesh yn ughtar, as myr shen cha noddym jannoo briwnys fondagh er. Cha nel wheesh aynsyn dy ve ny skeeal folliaghtagh; cha nee skeeal scoaghagh ny skeeal quaagh t'ayn er chor erbee. Ta kimmeeys hrome ayn, agh shen un taghyrt rish jerrey y skeeal, as bree taghyrtagh aynsyn, gyn cur geill da scansh as eiyrtyssyn ny cooish rere aght skeealyn kimmeeys. Myr shen, cha nee skeeal kimmeeys chreeoil t'ayn. Dy jarroo, shen dou gra dy lhome, er lhiam dy vel blass lajer roortys screeuee er ayns ynnyd bree skeeal.

Tempting Providence

Va fotograafagh ny studeyr ayns colleish Phrovidence; t'eh goll erash son taishbyney ellyn, as fakin scaaghyn tayrnagh jeh shenn reddyn. Ta mee beggan neuhickyr er. By haittin lhiam dy mooar kuse dy reddyn - she bun lane dy vree t'ayn er lhiam, as va blass quaagh mie er. Hoshiaght veehoig mee cre'n bun-chooish v'ayn, as va mee jerkal rish cooish Passing Spirits elley, agh shoh skeeal quaagh hene, gyn ourys. Ny yei shen, er lhiam dy woaillagh eh foddey ny s'troshey er peiagh elley; t'eh cur ram geill da balley Providence hene nagh ghooisht monney bree aynyms nagh row rieau 'sy voayl. Myr dooyrt peiagh elley, she ard-charracteyr lane dooishtid as tastey t'ayn hug orrym aachooinaghtyn er karracteyryn Lovecraft hene, as ad currit da mynscrutaghey as sursmooinaght. Ta bree y skeeal gatt beggan er veggan, as ghow mee toshiaght ennaghtyn dy beagh eh ro-liauyr, derrey haink y dooan stiagh dy çhionn as ghooisht cree y skeeal. Jeeaghyn erash, er lhiam dy nee liurid fondagh t'ayn, agh ta mee goaill yindys, nod eh er jionney cummey y skeeal beggan? Oddin er vaagail y skeeal, bunnys.

Howling in the Dark

S'mie lesh gilley aeg y dorraghys, as t'eh streppey noi cleaynys as annooinidyn. She skeeal gialdynagh t'ayn hug orrym aachooinaghtyn Hypnos, Azathoth, The Haunt of the Dark as The Book. Va bree yeearree aynsyn by haittin lhiam, chammah's blass ennaghtyn nagh vel sleih elley toiggal, as cummaght gys yss yn 'er joarree. Er lhiam dy vel ad ooilley bentyn da bree aegid, tra t'ou gennaght dy vel çharvaal aigney as toiggalys eddyr ny sheelogheyn, agh ta lorg jeh ry-ennaghtyn ayns sleih aegid myrgeddin. T'eh tappee, tayrnagh, so-chredjal as ta aght screeuee so-ghleashagh echey. Dennee mee nagh ren eh ronsaghey ny h-eieyn aynsyn dowin dy liooar, foddee, agh she skeeal fondagh t'ayn.

The Truth about Pickman

Ta sluightagh Americaanagh Vnr. Thurbur goll dys balley beg çheerey Hostyn raad ass haink kynney Phickman, as soilsheydys oaylleeagh ec son taghyrtyn Pickman's Model. Cha noddym jannoo barel baghtal er y skeeal shoh. T'eh screeuit mie dy liooar, as by vie lhiam y soilsheydys. Ec y traa cheddin, dennee mee nagh row y skeeal seyr dy liooar aght ennagh; va blass streeanagh aynsyn. Ta'n baght oaylleeagh mooghey scoagh gowil Pickman's Model, as ga dy vel soilshaghey magh noa ry-heet 'sy skeeal shoh, she folliaght veg t'ayn trooid as trooid, as t'eh cowrit rolaue dy baghtal. Myr shen, cha nel y soilshaghey magh noa wheesh niartal as y scoagh t'eh er neebyrt. Ta bree neuchorrym 'sy chassey-skeeal (plot twist) shen ass lieh yn insheyder, agh t'eh laccal oaldaght ghennal Haki - er lhiam dy nee eshyn y chosoylaght share. Er lhiam dy nee skeeal anaasoil t'ayn, agh cha ghow eh greim orrym. Cha jinnin coyrlaghey eh cour sleih elley, er lhiam, as ta lane vree y skeeal croghey er Pickman's Model - gyn shen, cha nee lane skeeal t'ayn er chor erbee. Ta'n doilleeid cheddin ry-akin ayns Tempting Providence, bunnys, agh er lhiam dy beagh bree ennagh 'sy skeeal shen eer gyn lhaih The Haunter of the Dark.


Erreish da surranse ashlishyn quaaghey, ta gilley beg feddyn magh shenn 'olliaght hayrn e lught-thie as ny naboonyn oc ry-cheilley ayns shenn çhenmynt. She skeeal fondagh t'ayn. T'eh soilshaghey ennaghtyn dy mie, as ta blassyn beggey cur bree deiney ayns ny karracteyryn as gaaniartaghey y skeeal. Er y laue elley, tra ta'n 'olliaght goll er soilshaghey magh, she thooilley-fysseree t'ayn, as ren shen leodaghey bree y skeeal. Va baare y skeeal mie dy liooar, agh cha row blass shickyr er jerrey y skeeal, as myr shen v'eh beggan faase er lhiam. Va'n jerrey gyn soylleeaght ny annym, as veagh eh cooie da lioar laa scoillar ny art oaylleeaght; cha row eh lane chooie da aachooinaghtyn atçhimagh yn 'er hene.

The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash

Çhaglym dy screeuynyn ard-jeeaneyder Lovecraft ta gaase keoie dy leah, er nyn gur magh son y chied cheayrt. S'doillee eh skeeal pistylagh y screeu; t'eh ort soilshaghey fys fo choodagh screeuyn so-chredjal, as shen cormid cruinn dy liooar. Cha by vie lhiam eh, dy firrinagh. Shoh yn accan aym, er lhiam: ta bree ennagh 'syn eie bunneydagh, agh ta feme er ram screeuyn dys insh skeeal beg neuchramp, as cha dooar mee monney anaase ayns ny screeuyn hene. Myr shen, she corrillagh moal v'ayn dooys. Er lhiam nagh row monney scansh eddyr ny screeuyn, as va blass spotçhyn preevadjagh ayndaue. Cha lhiah mee rieau screeuyn Lovecraft, ny monney bentyn rish e chaardjyn as coscreeuderyn; hie red ennagh 'sy skeeal shaghym er y fa shen, s'cosoylagh. Er lhiam dy vel ad jerkal rhyt goaill soylley jeh aght as coraa ny screeuyn, as toiggal nish as reesht dy vel eh çheet er skeeal elley, ny feer screeuyn caarjyn Lovecraft.

Violence, Child of Trust

By ghoillee eh skeeal jeh cultys dunveragh y screeu, as shen jeh reayrtyssyn ny cultee, nagh row lane anaase as bree. Myr shen, shegin dou goaill rish ard-cheirdjaght Vichael Cisco ny ughtar. She skeealeen neuslane t'ayn, as kuse dy gheiney gaarlaghey oural deiney (wahll, oural mraane, rere y chliaghtey oc) dy neuarryltagh. T'eh scuirr roish my verr ad jerrey er yn oural, son ta'n skeeal hene bentyn rish eddyr-obbraghey ny karracteyryn. T'eh lheimmey jeh tuarym fer ayn ass dys tuarym fer elley gyn monney bree, as dagh fer jeu nearilagh as faaueagh rhyt, son nagh vel ad arryltagh dy ghra red erbee dy baghtal. Shen tro sheer-voiragh dou tra ta fys as toiggal fondagh ec ny karracteyryn er ny t'ad jannoo, as ta shinyn 'syn aigney oc. Myr shen, cha nel shin feddyn magh monney er y chultys, as shen jummal y reayrtys neuchliaghtagh, er lhiam. Myr sampleyr, cre'n fa dy vel ad nyn gultee, as nagh vel ad er vaagail yn ard do nagh beagh feme oc er cooilleeney oural deiney? Ta kuse dy lhaihderyn elley er ngra (er yn eddyr-voggyl) dy nee skeeal mea as taitnyssagh t'ayn, agh cha noddym goaill rish.

Meer elley: ta kest 'sy skeeal. Cha vaik mee eh hoshiaght, agh trooid taghyrt yeeagh mee er y duillag s'jerree ressht, as huitt my hilley er linney nagh doig mee tra lhaih mee y skeeal, as ren mee yn eab dy aalhaih cooid vooar jeh'n skeeal. As shoh eh: ta'n derrey vraar brah y braar elley mychione yn oural. Ta'n skeeal beggan ny share erreish dou toiggal shen, agh smooinee er shoh: cha dug mee geill erbee da tra lhaih mee eh hoshiaght, er y fa dy vel dagh ooilley red wheesh neuvaghtal. Shen trome-cheeallagh, er lhaim.

Lesser Demons

Sorçh dy skeeal pulpagh jeh bea erreish da coleaystey mooar kirp fo ghruiaghtys. Ta blass pishagys Lovecraft ry-akin er, ga dy dod oo er chur eh ayns çhaglym neughooghyssagh elley gyn doilleeid. V'eh mie dy liooar; cha ghow eh greim orrym, agh er lhiam dy neeu eh, as t'eh mastey skeealyn share yn lioar shoh. Bare lhiam ennaghtyn share jeh'n ard-charracteyr; dennee mee dy row eh gollrish feniagh FPS aght ennagh. Cha dug taghyrtyn y skeeal cowrey erbee er e ambee, as nagh dennee eh eiyrtys aigney erbee jeh'n sheer-raghlid jeant echeysyn. As mish er smooinaghtyn er y chooish, foddee dy row shen jeant dy arryltyagh, son dy haishbyney dy nee fer gyn monney ennaghtyn t'ayn? Ny dy vel eh aigney sheer-chliaghtit rish as creoit noi?

By vie lhiam bun-eie y skeeal, as v'eh noa dy liooar. Va barel pragmatagh yn ard-charracteyr ny red noa myrgeddin ayns skeeal Lovecraftagh. Va caghlaaghyn beishteig aynsyn myr skeeal Lovecraftagh, dy jarroo - blass y "deayrtal as ooilley" er - agh va'n bun-chooish neughooghyssagh taitnyssagh as jeant dy mie, er lhiam, as quaagh dy liooar.

An Eldritch Matter

Ta fer troggal nhee quaagh er y traid as t'eh caghlaa y cummey t'er dys glout feill; tra ta fer lhee tayrn y nhee assyn 'sy thie lheeys, t'eshyn goll er caghlaa myrgeddin. As shen eh. Ta'n aght screeuee hene castreycair, agh cha dooar mee keeall ghoonee erbee ass y skeeal, myr dy nee cabdil nane ny eer meer roie-haishbynys v'ayn, ny smoo na skeealeen neuchrogheydagh. Va mee jerkal rish jerrey kestagh ny amlagh, foddee, agh cha row y nah 'er ny'n fer elley ry-akin. She straih dy haghyrtyn ta scuirr, as shen eh. Er lhiam dy nee skeeal aitt t'ayn, rere kiarail? Agh cha row mee gearey. Cha nel y prose chamoo yn ard-charracteyr fondagh dy liooar da'n skeeal çheet lesh myr "vignette quaagh anaasoil". T'eh cur imnea orrym gra dy nee skeeal moal t'ayn: by vie dy liooar lhiam ny v'ayn, dy jarroo. Agh shegin dou gra, my ta mee sessal eh my skeealeen, t'eh moal.


Erreish ta marranys taghyrtagh, ta fer goaill toshiaght sursmooinaghtyn er ny beaghyn elley oddagh er ve echey, as ta shen dy chleayney cour baght kianglt as greain agglagh. Hoshiaght chreid mee dy nee aght screeuee maaigagh v'ayn: she aght focklagh as neuellynagh t'ayn, lane chooie da'n insheyder as eh mean-rangagh dys y vine s'jerree, agh cha dod mee agh cur geill da'n aght hene rish tammylt. Erreish dou cliaghtey rish, ghow mee soylljey mooar jeh. She skeeal neuhiyragh t'ayn ta troggal beggan er veggan, as t'eh feeudagh dy liooar. T'eh Sostnagh myrgeddin, as nagh vel eh Sostnagh! Ta covestey jeh nearey as egin aigney er yn insheyder, as v'eh lane so-chredjal dooys myr aght aigney deiney, ga dy row eh quaagh. Tra ta'n momentum er droggal, ta bieauid fondagh echey. Va barel aym er firrinys y skeeal nagh row foddey jeh, agh cha deayshil y chooish 'syn aght yerk mee rish.

Un chaveat: shoh skeeal elley nagh vel lane chooie da cooish y lioar shoh, er lhiam. T'eh ro-chadjin, gyn quaaghys neughooghyssagh ny oaylleeagh, as foddee oo er ny chur stiagh ayns teihys skeealyn quaaghey erbee.


Ta ben hing 'sy thie lheeys, as t'ee bentyn rish y Vythos aght ennagh, agh ta çhiassagh as aght screeu ro-chramp dty lhiettal veih toiggal wheesh ta shen taghyrt. Dy jarroo, cha nel monney traa aym son y skeeal shoh. Ta aght screeuee feer vonneydagh echey do nagh by aashagh eh toiggal ny va taghyrt, as er y fa dy vel y ven cho çhing, she insheyder nagh dod oo treishteil aynjee t'ayn chammah. Shimmey raa t'ayn gollrish "Surcease is a formula etched on the aethers, magically descriptive, nebular, galactic in implication.", as ta cagh "aver" car y traa tra lhisagh ad jus gra reddyn. Va blass ard-haghyrtys breagagh er, as jannoo rouyr eab. Ta skeeal anaasoil fo y chay shen, foddee, bentyn rish ben-chultagh er raad y vaaish, agh dy foshlit, cha nel bree dy liooar aynym dy yummal er kerey eh.


Teiy ny teihys: Copping Squid, Tempting Providence, Desert Dreams, The Broadsword, The Dome

Roie chammah: Tunnels, Howling in the Dark, Usurped, Substitution, Lesser Demons

Cooie da sleih elley, foddee: Pickman's Other Model, The Truth about Pickman, Passing Spirits, Inhabitants of Wraithwood, Denker's Book, Susie

Moal: Engraving, The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash, Violence Child of Trust, An Eldritch Matter

Cre 'sy theihll ta shoh?: Rotterdam


Trooid as trooid, erreish dou lhaih y teihys skeealyn shoh, shegin dou gra dy vel scansh mooar eddyr ny ta mish as Joshi cur "skeeal Lovecraftagh" er.

Yiarrins dy vel ny troyn heese ry-akin ayns skeealyn Lovecraft, myr beggan ny mooarane rere y skeeal hene: Ta taghyrtyn ny cooishyn quaaghey ayn, as ard-charracteyryn ta soilshaghey magh y firrinys follit. Ta aght screeuee cramp as Gothagh echey, as ny smoo trimmid er ennaghtyn na bun-chooish, agh t'eh troggal skeeal shickyr veih bun dys jerrey baghtal ny yei shen. Rish jerrey y skeeal, ta'n lhaihder toiggal ny haghyr as cre'n fa, ga nagh vel yn aght baghtal ny keayrtyn, son cha nel Lovecraft faagail folliaghtyn. Son y chooid smoo, t'ad bentyn rish bun-chooishyn cadjin (scansh sheiltynys, neuscansh deiney 'sy dowan, milley anmey as kirpey, cummal seose sollys fardailagh shallidagh noi yn atçhimid nagh dod shin toiggal eh) as ta blass trome-chooishagh orroo.

Ta caghlaaghyn skeeal 'sy liooar shoh, as ta dagh fer bentyn rish cooish ny ghaa ass y rolley heose, agh ta ymmodee jeh cleayney cho foddey ass raad Lovecraft nagh noddym goaill rish ad myr Lovecraftagh. 'Sy varel aym, lhisagh "Lovecraftagh" çheet er skeealyn ta faggys da aght as cooishyn Lovecraft - cha nel skeeal "Wodehouseagh" er y fa ynrickan dy vel Edardee aegey ny geid muick aynsyn. Cha nel mee gra dy nhegin da skeeal ve ny pastiche jeh obbraghyn Lovecraft, agh ta feme er dy lhiantyn rish ayns ymmodee troyn, er lhiam.

Ta aght feer lettyragh as ellynagh ec kuse jeu, lane dy metaphor as aght screeuee daa-cheayllagh ny anvaghtal - foddey jeh aght Lovecraft. Cha nel plottey baghtal oc son y chooid smoo; t'eh er y lhaihder ny taghyrtyn y 'eaysley magh. Ta skeealyn elley nyn skeealyn neughooghyssaght vaghtal dy liooar, agh cha nel bun-chooishyn, genre, ny cummey y neughooghyssaght casley rish ny screeu Lovecraft. Ta jerraghyn kestit ayn, as ren Lovecraft shaghney y lheid jeh yoin dys cur geill smoo da ennaghtyn. Cha nel fer ynrickan jeh ny troyn shoh ny 'oill marrooagh, agh dy cadjin t'ad covestey 'sy skeeal cheddin, lesh faagail skeeal gyn agh aggyrt thanney dy ve rere aght Lovecraft. Choud's foddym toiggal, ta fer ny ghaa 'sy çhaglym shoh er yn oyr ommidjagh dy vel eh çheet er HP Lovecraft, gyn cur geill erbee da troyn bunneydagh y skeeal. S'goan ad foddym cur "Lovecraftagh" orroo gyn cooyl-smooinaght.

Er lhiam, my s'mie lhiat skeealyn Lovecraft, foddee oo feddyn red ennagh s'mie lhiat 'sy teihys skeealyn shoh. Ta teihys lhean ayn as caghlaaghyn aght as blass orroo. My ta clea vaihagh oc, gow oo taitnys jeh'n chooid smoo jeu, foddee. Cha nel anaase ayms er far-skeealaght lettyragh chamoo monney son aghtyn screeuee ellynagh, as myr shen voir kuse dy skeealyn orrym. Er lhiam dy row kuse elley moal.

Feeu geill: rere cliaghtey Lovecraft, cha nel monney mraane ry-akin. She Susie ayns Susie yn ard-charracteyr bwoirrin ynrican, as ish ny saase lettraght ny share na ny karracteyr, dy firrinagh. Er lhiam nagh hig eh lesh fer erbee jeu y Bechdel Test noadyr.

Son baght elley, jeeagh ayns shoh: Baght Opinionator

This is a review of the book Black Wings of Cthulhu, edited by ST Joshi. It claims to be "21 tales of Lovecraftian horror", and I'll give a quick minireview of each one. After the first sentence of each minireview, there may be spoilers, though I've tried to avoid specifics in most cases.

You can find a spoiler-free TL;DR version below.

Pickman's Other Model

Woman who modelled for Pickman appears in weird porn, has strange background, gets killed. It was Lovecraftian, with pretty much all the expected elements, but somehow it didn't work. The scenes were individually okay, and they did link together into a story, but it felt to me empty somehow; there was no bigger story behind it all. Lovecraft had his faults, but he never finished a story without you knowing what had really been going on. In this story, there were just a few weird scenes and a woman murdered by unknown persons for reasons that aren't really explained. Extrapolation provides only a "and that's it?" explanation. Mediocre.

Desert Dreams

Persistent dreams draw the protagonist to seek out the desert he sees in sleep, where he discovers an awful truth. I quite liked the style of this one, and I think it did a decent job of the "weird dreams" trope. It wasn't quite Lovecraftian somehow, although definitely within spitting distance - possibly because the ending was actually a bit of a surprise, which wasn't Lovecraft's style? - but I quietly enjoyed it. It felt perhaps just a little bit thin and sparse, but that may just be in comparison with Lovecraft's dense prose. Also, I suppose, because I was expecting the ending to be flagged up in HPL style, I didn't expect it to finish so soon and that affected how I approached it.


The first six pages of this ten-part story are a repetitive litany of complaints by someone with the vocabulary of a stereotypical foul-mouthed teenager, convey virtually no information, and can be skipped with minimal impact on the rest. The last four pages offer a short horror vignette. I wouldn't go so far as to call it unLovecraftian, as it draws on the Lovecraftian vocabulary and themes, but I had a sense that if you filed off the names and substituted some others it would fit in any vaguely occult horror setting. There was little in the story itself, and nothing in its style or presentation, that marked it as a Mythos story. Sadly I think this is a reasonable very short story trapped in a rejected crime flick script.

Copping Squid

Bizarre blackmail and curiosity draws a man into strange places and terrible, irresistable revelations. While I can't imagine Lovecraft writing on these topics, it was a very solid story that managed to position itself within the Mythos, despite differences of style and subject. Considering stories like Hypnos, or The Shunned House, I felt like this tale of revelation and of horror close at hand was by no means out of place. The themes and mood felt Lovecraftian, and the sense of fate. It's laden with subtle weirdness, and convincingly conveys a sense of an unimposing body with awesome, mad charisma.

Passing Spirits

A protagonist is dying and begins to hallucinate, first HP Lovecraft's ghost, then all kinds of people and creatures from the stories. With a Mythos-per-page count approaching the Encyclopaedia, and about the same claim to be a Lovecraftian story. There is no mystery, no actual Mythos, nothing Lovecraftian in structure or style. This isn't a "what is reality" story either, despite apparently aiming at it - the protagonist is perfectly aware of what's happening and why. The first page looks to be a time-travel story, the next few give the impression it's going to be a Blithe Spirits homage, and then it bogs down into tedium. It's not a story I'd want to read in any collection, let alone one I picked looking for stuff like Lovecraft. It's so far from the premise of the collection that I can't even decide if it's bad or just uninteresting.

The Broadsword

An old man living in an old hotel is haunted by guilt and fear from an experience years ago. After some misgivings, I actually thought this was okay. It felt a little long. However, I thought it did a decent job at presenting something weird and horrific, and keeping things vague and crazy enough to keep you guessing. I suppose I would have liked a little more idea of what the Things actually are and what they do, and as I said I think it was longer than necessary, though a decent length is important to build up the uncertainty. On the whole, worth reading but not quite my style.


An encounter with a wasp swarm causes a car accident, but the long arm of the Mythos turns out to be involved in the case. The idea is fine, the execution decent. For some reason this felt rather bland to me, though. It was okay.

Denker's Book

Mercifully brief. A potentially interesting idea, but it's mostly beating around the bush, and felt quite repetitive. Denker used the Necronomicon to power some kind of dimensional portal. The story consists of piecemeal revelations of this fact, in a long-winded style that isn't quite unreadable but little pleasure to read. Didn't really do anything for me.

Inhabitants of Wraithwood

An escapee from prison/rehab stumbles into a sinister house and is consumed by its power. This felt about three times longer than it should have been. The prose was wordy and not very readable (and that's coming from a Lovecraft reader). Despite its length, the story is mostly the narrator stumbling from odd scene to odd scene and reacting unconvincingly, not helped by the relentless focus on drug-taking (a subject perpetually devoid of interest). Once you've spotted the revelation in the first few pages, it's just one portentous event after another. Although it shows the narrator's inevitable fate, as with some others in this book it doesn't seem interested in offering less superficial revelations, and frankly it was too convoluted to reread just to try and work things out. Either there was too much waffle around the creepy story, or there was too much going on in the atmospheric horror novel.

The Dome

A retiree to a small town discovers there's something strange going on in one of the old buildings. A simple story, written in a simple style that washed over me easily to deliver the story. There's very little details or verbosity, and short phrases with a touch of the protagonist's voice paint events quite distinctly; no gothic atmosphere here, but a quick little tale that gets itself across efficiently and pleasantly. It's admittedly not very horrific, but I thought it was well done. There was only one bit that jarred on me, a single over-long sentence that needed breaking down and rephrasing: "He was overjoyed at the news, for he loved his pretty little granddaughter who had just graduated from high school and was heading west to a college near Phoenix". A perfectly serviceable story, not one of the greats but I'll gladly take it.


A bitter man walks around Rotterdam, gets drunk and is involved in a crime. This story uses the word "Lovecraft" a lot, which appears to be the sole reason it is included here: it has an initially promising hook about Anthony Gormley art, but nothing comes of it. As with Wraithwood's drugs, I must emphasise: getting drunk is not intrinsically interesting or meaningful, any more in literature than in life. Rather, in both cases drunk people are boring and/or annoying. I'm not at all clear what kind of story this thinks it is; there's not enough to it to be mystery, it's definitely not horror or weird tale, and the crime is too sidelined to make a compelling crime story. It feels more like a writing exercise than a story, to be brutally honest.

Tempting Providence

A photographer returns to his old college in Providence for an exhibition, and finds himself strangely drawn to flickering ghosts of the past. I really dunno about this one. It's got some aspects I very much liked - the premise felt quite strong, and there was something nicely odd about it. I initially mistook what the premise actually was, and thought I was in for another Passing Spirits, but this one is yer'actual weird tale all right. That being said, I think it would speak far more strongly to someone else; there was a strong focus on Providence itself that didn't really resonate with me, having never been. As someone else mentioned, the protagonist has a strong awareness that harks back to many of Lovecraft's own highly analytical characters. This one builds up over time; it began to feel rather long until the hook of the story really bit home and things started unfolding. In retrospect the length seems about right, but I wonder if it could have been tightened up a bit so as not to feel long at the time, because in other circumstances I might have given up on it.

Howling in the Dark

A child with a fondness for the dark struggles with him temptations and frailties. A promising story, which evoked memories of Lovecraft's Hypnos, Azathoth, The Haunter of the Dark, and also The Book. There was a pleasing sense of yearning, of feelings that others can't understand, and of the unmeasured influence of the stranger. Those all seem quite reflective of youth, when there seems a chasm of understanding between generations, but some of that persists into adulthood too. Quick, intriguing, smoothly-written, believable. Perhaps I feel that it didn't explore its ideas quite far enough, but basically solid.

The Truth about Pickman

A descendant of Thurber travels to the English village where Pickman's family originated, with a scientific explanation for the events of Pickman's Model. This is a curious story, and I can't quite decide how I feel about it. It seems well-written and I enjoyed the explanation. At the same time, it seemed a bit too restrained for what it was doing. The scientific premise largely dissipates the horror of Pickman's ghouls, while the other revelation is too small and too well-signposted to provide a strong alternative. The final semi-twist feels unsporting from the character, but doesn't have the savagery of a Saki, which seems the closest model. I think basically I'd say it's interesting but not particularly compelling. Definitely not something I'd push on other people, and it's utterly dependent on Pickman's Model for the impact it does have.


A small boy suffering bad dreams learns of the old secret that drew his family and others together in an old apartment block. This was a decent story, with some evocative atmosphere and little humanising touches that gave it a bit of solidity. However, it was rather infodumpy when the secret did come out, which detracted from its effect. While the climax of the story was pretty good, I also found the conclusion a little weak, lacking the ring of conviction - it was too matter-of-fact, and felt a bit more suited to a scholar's diary or article than a narrative of dreadful memories.

The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash

A series of increasingly bizarre fan letters received by Lovecraft, never previously published. Epistolary stories are tricky to do, because you're trying to convey information while wrapping it in the cruft of letters, and trying to get the balance right. I wasn't a huge fan, to be honest. I think my problem with this one is that while there's something to the core concept, it takes a large number of letters to convey a simple story, and unfortunately I didn't find the letters themselves interesting - very samey, maybe in-jokey? Having never got into the Lovecraft Circle stuff or read any of his correspondence, I've probably missed out on something. I suspect the idea is to enjoy the style and voice, maybe catch a reference here and there. Didn't do much for me.

Violence, Child of Trust

It would be difficult to make a story told from the perspective of members of an cult that practice human sacrifice uninteresting. As such, I am compelled to admit Michael Cisco's mastery of his craft. In truth, this barely qualifies as a story, more a vignette - it's some members of the cult family reluctantly preparing for a sacrifice, and ends before they complete it. It switches between uninspiring viewpoints, always coyly uninformative and allusory; this is a rather annoying trait when viewpoint characters know perfectly well what they're doing. As such we learn very little about the cult (say, why are they cultists?) which largely wastes the perspective. Poor. Some other readers have found it rich and rewarding, but I really can't agree.

Addendum: there is a twist in the tale, which I spotted only through accidentally looking at the last page again, spotting a line that had confused me the first time, and rereading a few pages to look for the solution. One brother betrays the other over the sacrifice arrangements. This makes the story a little more satisfying, but I find it telling that I didn't notice this at all on the first reading, due to the opaqueness of every damn thing. It doesn't help with the other problems.

Lesser Demons

A sort of postapocalyptic pulp zombie plague story with Lovecraftian touches, although they could arguably be other occult traditions instead. This was okay; it didn't wow me, but I found it much more worthwhile than quite a few others in the collection. I'd have liked more sense of the protagonist, who feels oddly reminiscent of a blank-slate FPS protagonist, essentially untouched by the events and their own colossal violence. On reflection, it's actually possible this is intended to convey him being emotionally blunted, or hardened to violence. The core concept is quite interesting and novel, and the character's pragmatic attitude was an interesting take. It was a little kitchen-sink with monsters, but the core supernatural element was pleasing.

An Eldritch Matter

A man picks up an odd item on the street and is horribly mutated; when a doctor retrieves the item in hospital, he is also mutated. That really is all there is to it. The actual writing isn't bad, but there's no real sense of closure to the narrative, leaving it feeling like a chapter one or even a prereview extract, rather than a standalone tale. I was expecting maybe a twist ending or ironic finish, but got neither, just a series of events that ends. It's presumably supposed to be funny? Didn't work. There's not enough in either the prose or the character to carry this off as a weird vignette. I feel bad calling this a bad story, since I enjoyed the bits that were there, but viewed as a short story, it is bad.


A chance mistake leaves a man pondering about other lives he might have had, and leads him towards obsession and a nasty shock. Initially I found the writing rather clunky; it’s in a wordy but inelegant style that fits the utterly middle-class narrator well, but it took me a while to stop noticing it. Once I got into the story, though, I enjoyed this slow-build, low-key story, and its English setting. The protagonist’s mixture of embarrassment and compulsion was strangely believable, and once the momentum started building, the pacing was solid. I had my suspicions about the truth, which were pretty accurate, but things didn’t pan out quite how I expected. What I would say, though, is that this is another story that I don’t feel fits the theme particularly closely. It’s a little too mundane, and could really have fitted into any supernatural or light horror collection.


Woman in hospital is ill, interacts with Mythos to a degree obscured by fever and writing style. Honestly, I have little time for this story. It's written in a really portentous style that makes it difficult to tell what's going on, and the protagonist is ill so she's a deeply unreliable narrator anyway. Sentences like "Surcease is a formula etched on the aethers, magically descriptive, nebular, galactic in implication." abound, and people keep averring things. It gave me a feeling of artificial melodrama. I think it's decent story underneath that, revolving around a dying cultist, but I frankly cannot be bothered teasing it out.


My highlights: Copping Squid, Tempting Providence, Desert Dreams, The Broadsword, The Dome

Also ran: Tunnels, Howling in the Dark, Usurped, Substitution, Lesser Demons

Not my thing: Pickman's Other Model, The Truth about Pickman, Passing Spirits, Inhabitants of Wraithwood, Denker's Book, Susie

Poor: Engraving, The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash, Violence Child of Trust, An Eldritch Matter

No seriously, what?: Rotterdam


I think the main conclusion I can draw from this anthology is that Joshi and I have very different understandings of the term "Lovecraftian story".

Broadly speaking, I feel that Lovecraft's stories include the following traits, to a varying degree: weird events or situations, whose hidden truths are revealed by the protagonists; dense, gothic writing that emphasises atmosphere over plot, but still follows a definite story progression to a distinct end; by the end of the story, the reader understands what has been going on. They also touch on some themes (the importance of imagination, the insignificance of humanity before the universe, corruption, maintaining a futile candlelight against the dreadfulness beyond our ken) and strike a fairly serious mood.

This book offers a wide variety of stories, all of which touch on some of these issues, but many of which deviate so strongly that I can't honestly consider them Lovecraftian. To my mind, "Lovecraftian" writing should be really quite close to that of Lovecraft, in the same way that a story isn't Wodehousian simply by featuring young Edwardians or pig-stealing. I don't mean they need to be a pastiche, but there need to be many points of similarity.

Several of the stories are very literary and artsy in style, full of metaphor and ambiguous writing, but a big departure from Lovecraft. These also tend not to feature very clear plots, with the reader left to try and puzzle out what might have been going on. A couple are fairly lucid supernatural stories, but not very close to Lovecraft either in themes, genre or the nature of the supernatural within them. There are several twist endings, which Lovecraft studiously avoided to concentrate on atmosphere. The chief problem is that these departures often combine, leaving you with stories that have only a tenuous claim to Lovecraftianism. A couple seem to have been included on the bizarre strength of mentioning HP Lovecraft, rather than any intrinsic property of the stories. There were only a handful that I feel comfortable categorising as Lovecraftian.

The range of stories in this book will mean that most people who want something Lovecraftian can probably find a few that suit their taste. If you have a very broad palate, you may enjoy most of them. Personally, I have no time for literary fiction and little for very artsy writing, and found several stories annoying, while a couple of others I simply thought were bad.

Also worth noting: as sadly traditional for Lovecraft, women are pretty few and far between. There's one female protagonist (Susie, although she's less a protagonist and more a literary device, to be honest) and I don't think any of them would pass the Bechdel test.

For an alternative take, see here: Opinionator's review