H.P. Lovecraft, The
Whisperer in Darkness (Part 2)
The narrator weaves the rumors of the mi-go into the fabric
of local superstition – the unknown forest animal, the frightened child, the
insanity of hermits, the devil-fears of the Puritans, the fairy myths of the
Scotch-Irish immigrants, and the myths of Native Americans. Yet Wilmarth pushes the boundaries of the
mythology even further, until its reach is truly planetary. He refers to “those universal legends of
natural personification which filled the ancient world with fawns and dryads
and satyrs…” and remarks upon the Abominable Snowmen “who lurk hideously amidst
the ice and rock pinnacles of the Himalayan summits.”
I think there is material for an interesting analysis of
Lovecraft’s vision and representation of media, though I would need to revisit
other stories to paint an adequate picture.
For the moment, though, note how the Brattleboro
Reformer becomes involved in a debate over the reality of mysterious
monsters to such an extent that Wilmarth remarks on how it “reprinted one of my
long historical and mythological summaries in full.” As the voice of the skeptic, Wilmarth
represents rational discourse, thorough scholarship, and civil debate – and in
Lovecraft’s Vermont people eat it up, making him something of a celebrity. It’s a rather slow, ponderous world of
information that Lovecraft describes, a far cry from the rushing image-rivers
of our internet. The stately progression
of scholarship in the story culminates in an appropriate figure: Henry
Wentworth Akeley, who is described as part of “a long, locally distinguished
line of jurists, administrators, and gentlemen-agriculturalists.” You know, just your average guy.
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