The Fantasy Cycles of Clark Ashton Smith
PART II: The Book of Hyperborea
By
Ryan Harvey
Copyright 2007 by New Epoch Press. All rights reserved.
Legend says that after his exile from Iceland, Erik the Red
voyaged to a frozen island and settled there in 982 C.E. Deciding not to scare
away new settlers with an intimidating name like “Iceland,” he dubbed the place
“Greenland.” We can scoff at Erik's bit of dishonesty-in-advertising, and
certainly any homesteaders who fell for his marketing ploy would have felt like
cleaving Mr. The Red's skull with a scramasax, but perhaps Erik knew
something about Greenland's deeper history: the lost chronicles that fantasy
writer Clark Ashton Smith revealed in his stories about a far northern continent
in its younger days before glaciers claimed it, when wizards and elder gods and
wily thieves and greedy moneylenders crisscrossed its steamy jungles and ebony
mountains and opulent cities. A vanished civilization known as…Hyperborea.
Of Clark Ashton Smith's three major fantasy series,
Hyperborea had the worst sales record during his lifetime. Smith finished ten
stories about the ancient continent, and most bounced back and forth from
various magazines until they finally found homes. The majority ended up in
Farnsworth Wright's Weird Tales (sometimes after multiple tries), but
others landed in ephemeral pulps or non-paying fanzines.
Reading the Hyperborean stories today it is easy to
understand why Clark Ashton Smith had such a burdensome time selling them:
nowhere else in his canon does he so artificially elevate his prose style.
Although the stories of Zothique swim in decadent and decaying imagery,
Hyperborea drowns in sententious language that Smith uses for ironic effect.
"The Coming of the White Worm" might rank as the most obtusely written of all
his stories, and it only saw print after Smith considerably simplified the
language.
Posthumously, Hyperborea has gained stature among Smith's
works, and the stories appear frequently in anthologies. The continued
popularity of the Hyperborea stories today comes from two factors: their links
to H. P. Lovecraft's famous “Mythos,” and their doses of grotesque ironic humor.
Situating Hyperborea
Exactly what, where, and when is Hyperborea?
The concept originates with the Greeks; the word means
"beyond the north wind." Herodotus mentions Hyperborea as a land far to the
north of mainland Greece, filled with joyous people who lived an Elysian
existence under warm twenty-four hour sunshine. In some versions of the myth of
Perseus, the hero seeks for the Gorgons after passing the land of the
Hyperboreans.
Smith includes little of this Grecian concept of Hyperborea
except that of a northern land existing in a warm state, and borrows more from
modern theories about the land. In the traditions of later literature,
Hyperborea thrived coeval with the other mythic civilizations of Atlantis,
Lemuria, and Mu (which all receive mention in Smith's stories) that Helena
Blavatsky promoted in Theosophy, a pan-religious gnostic movement she founded in
1875. Smith acknowledged his debt to Blavatsky's bizarre occultism:
Theosophy, as
far as I can gather, is a version of esoteric Yoga prepared for western
consumption, so I dare say its legendry must have some sort of basis in Oriental
records. One can disregard the theosophy, and make good use of the stuff about
elder continents, etc. I got my own ideas about Hyperborea, Poseidonis, etc.
from such sources, and turned my imagination loose. (Letter to H. P. Lovecraft,
1 May 1933)
In "Ubbo-Sathla," Smith states that Hyperborea was
"supposed to have corresponded roughly with modern Greenland, which had formerly
been joined as a peninsula to the main continent." The setting and geography
agree with this assessment: unlike the other lost civilizations of Lemuria, Mu,
and Atlantis, Hyperborea did not sink from sight but vanished under an advance
of ice. It seems logical that the land mass still exists, and the
glacier-covered island of Greenland, large enough to almost qualify as a
continent, fills the Hyperborean bill.
Smith mentions that the stories occur "in the last
centuries before the onset of the Great Ice Age," possibly meaning the last long
interglacial period, the Eemian Interglacial (130,000-70,000 B.P.). The mention
of mammals common to this epoch, such as saber-tooth cats, aurochs, and
mammoths, further places the period as the recent Pleistocene, before the start
of human civilization. However, in "Ubbo-Sathla," Smith gives a different period
in Earth's history for Hyperborea: the Miocene Period, approximately
twenty-three million years past, which concluded in a glacial advance.
Dinosaurs, such as a Tyrannosaurus and an Archaeopteryx, appear in "The Seven
Geases" alongside mentions of saber-tooth tigers and mammoths. With so many
contradictions, it seems that locating Hyperborea in time serves little purpose.
It exists in a nebulous past outside of our own understanding of time.
The ten stories and other references in Smith's fiction and
letters provide enough information to craft a general overview of Hyperborea's
geography and history. In this warm interglacial period, thick moist jungles
coat much of the middle of the continent. The black range of the Eiglophian
Mountains cuts through the middle of the land and lies a day's march from the
two capital cities, Commoriom and Uzuldaroum. Most of the foulest deities of
Hyperborea live in caverns beneath the tallest of the Eiglophians, Mt.
Voormithadreth. The citizens abandoned the older capital Commoriom, "superb and
magisterial…opulent among cities," during the reign of King Loquamethros because
of the prophecy of the White Sybil of Polarion. The fleeing population
established a second capital only a few leagues away, Uzuldaroum. The
northernmost peninsula is Mhu Thulan (derived from the Latin "Ultima Thule"),
where the wizard Eibon dwells in his pentagonal tower. The largest city in Mhu
Thulan is Cerngoth. Another important city, Iqqua, which has its own line of
kings, lies close to Mhu Thulan. Above Mhu Thulan looms the icy waste of the
enormous glacier of Polarion. Eventually, as the White Sybil augured, the
glacier of Polarion destroys Hyperborea and leaves behind the land we know as
Greenland. Only the stories of the prophet Klarkash-Ton survive to tell us of
the vanished wonders of Hyperborea.
The Clark Ashton "Smythos"
The Hyperborean cycle constitutes Clark Ashton Smith's
largest contribution to what August Derleth later termed "The Cthulhu Mythos"
(referred to here simply as "The Mythos"), H. P. Lovecraft's loose pantheon of
star-born primordial gods and their influence on earth.
Lovecraft, one of the most popular scribes of Weird
Tales and the most celebrated horror author of the last century, started an
industry of terror when he published "The Call of Cthulhu" in 1926. This story
of a reawakening cosmic evil that causes a scholar to reassess the rationality
of existence had a tremendous effect on the horror field. Lovecraft maintained a
voluminous correspondence with other authors in which they swapped ideas and
concepts that tied in with Lovecraft's gradually growing cabal of garbled-named
gods and fictional tomes of mind-searing lore. Long after Lovecraft's passing in
1937, other writers would continue to pour out new pastiches of his "Mythos,"
creating a strange and misunderstood horror sub-genre.
But Clark Ashton Smith's expeditions into the Mythos were
not pastiches like those of August Derleth or the young Ramsey Campbell. His
take on the Mythos is so uniquely his, that a few have jokingly called it the
'Clark Ashton Smythos.' The cosmic Old Ones that appear so distant and
incomprehensible in Lovecraft's work and those of his imitators take on the
mantle of cruel, capricious jesters in Smith's renditions. Will Murray notes
that "Smith's Old Ones were more in the nature of the Greek Gods, meddling in
human affairs and concerns despite their often outlandish names and
semi-anthropomorphic forms, and issuing pronouncements in human tongue." The
Greek pantheon connection works for the more humorous of the Hyperborean
stories, but there is also a link to the grim gods of the Norsemen, particularly
in a subset of the stories about the slow death of Hyperborea beneath the
advancing glaciers, where the ironic humor of the series nearly vanishes. Either
way, Smith's cosmic terrors have a direct presence in his stories as characters
in a way that Lovecraft's never do.
Smith's most important additions to the Mythos first
appeared in Hyperborea: the tome of lore known as The Book of Eibon (Livre
Ivonis in its French translation), and the toad god Tsathoggua. Tsathoggua
runs through the Hyperborean stories as a common motif and sets the ironic-comic
tone for much of the cycle. The toad god shows how far Smith's vision of the
Mythos veers from Lovecraft's. In "The Door to Saturn," Smith gives Tsathoggua a
typical Lovecraftian background: he drifted down from the stars in forgotten
eons (using Saturn as a 'way-station') and established himself deep underground
on earth in pre-human days, eventually cultivating slavish followers. However,
in "The Tale of Satampra Zeiros," Smith gives a physical portrait of Tsathoggua
quite unlike Lovecraft's cosmic, mind-blasting terrors:
He was very
squat and pot-bellied, his head was more like that of a monstrous toad than a
deity, and his whole body was covered with an imitation of short fur, giving
somehow a vague suggestion of both the bat and the sloth. His sleepy lids were
half-lowered over his globular eyes; and the tip of a queer tongue issued from
his fat mouth. In truth, he was not a comely or personable sort of god….
In Tsathoggua's portraiture lurks something clownish and
grotesquely funny. This dark-comic feeling fits the Hyperborean cycle, and the
ironic final phrase might sum up the dry sarcasm of much of the series.
(Smith apparently had an affinity for the toad god. In a
1934 letter to Richard Searight, he wrote: "Tsathoggua is one of my
specialties!")
Clark Ashton Smith scholars have often overstated the
humorous aspect of Hyperborea and let it color their perceptions of the series.
Not all the stories contain black comedy and sarcastic language as in "The Tale
of Satampra Zeiros" or the bizarre "The Seven Geases." Three of the stories form
a sub-cycle about Hyperborea's doom, and Smith wrote them close together. In
these stories he leans toward the crepuscular tone of his popular Zothique
series, which started to emerge while he was deep in the Hyperborean stories.
Additionally, the work "Ubbo-Sathla" stands outside the rest of the series in
tone and setting, and reads like an homage to Lovecraft's style. Sardonic comedy
plays a large part in Hyperborea's appeal, but many more levels lay beneath its
thin coating of ice.
The Book of Hyperborea
Smith planned to collect the stories of Hyperborea into a
single volume with the hope of finding a publisher. He called the proposed
collection The Book of Hyperborea, the name that Necronomicon Press
used for its 1996 anthology. I have chosen to list the stories in the order of
their composition, instead of the chronological order that Lin Carter devised
for his Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series or the version that Smith listed in his
Black Book because the development of the series appears more obvious in this
arrangement.
"The Tale of Satampra Zeiros"
Completed November 1929. First
published in Weird Tales, November 1931.
This first-person narrative, the work of thief and
raconteur Satampra Zeiros, sets the tone for the bizarre stories that follow.
Our penurious narrator embellishes his brief horror story about an unfortunate
looting expedition with such pompous language that it makes the horrific
incident into a sarcastic joke—almost. The terror aspect peeps through just
enough, and structurally the narrative follows a familiar horror outline. But
the joy of the story comes from the way that Smith flips the situation
upside-down with Satampra Zeiros' language that distances him from not only the
terror of the action, but also from his career as a thief and drunk.
When Satampra Zeiros and his companion in crime Tirouv
Ompallios encounter a hideous guardian in the temple of the toad god in the
ruined old capital of Commoriom, he mentions that the creature gave "evidence of
anthropophagic inclinations" and therefore their "departure" became "most
imperative." This is the way an unreliable narrator tells you that he saw a
man-eating monster and got the hell out of there.
Satampra Zeiros himself achieved a rare distinction among
Smith's characters: he came back for a sequel. The one-handed thief would again
tell of his adventures in the last Hyperborean story, "The Theft of the
Thirty-Nine Girdles."
"The Door to Saturn"
Completed July 1930. First
published in Strange Tales, January 1932.
Weird Tales editor Farnsworth Wright rejected
this, one of the most bizarre of all Hyperborea stories, but Smith found a home
for it in Clayton Publications' better paying (but short-lived) rival,
Strange Tales. The story must have caused some Wright real head-scratching;
"Satampra Zeiros" contains ironic humor but still tells a conventional horror
story. The "The Door to Saturn," however, is a lengthy 'punch line' piece filled
with comic-tinged oddness and jaw-busting alien names. It has more in common
with the satirical fantasies of James Branch Cabell than anything that appeared
in Weird Tales.
Very little of the story takes place in Hyperborea proper,
but instead on the planet Cykranosh. The reader meets for the first time the
frequently referenced sorcerer Eibon, who worships and receives favor from
Tsathoggua (here spelled Zhothaqqua). When the inquisition of the elk-goddess
Yhoundeh comes to seize Eibon for his heresies in his tower in far northern Mhu
Thulan, the sorcerer escapes through a panel that takes him to Cykranosh, the
planet where Tsathoggua once dwelt. The high priest of Yhoundeh, Morghi, follows
after Eibon, and the two enemies team-up to survive among the weird peoples of
Cykranosh while Morghi seeks to deliver a sacred phrase he learned from one of
Tsathoggua's 'relatives.' Ultimately, the set-up exists to deliver a twist
finale that mocks the pretensions of religious quests. Smith would repeat this
'set-up/punch line' structure again in the even more effective "The Seven Geases."
As the story's title makes clear, Cykranosh is nominally
Saturn. But the world on which Eibon and Morghi find themselves has more in
common with H. G. Wells' fantastic vision of life on the moon in The First
Men in the Moon, Frank L. Baum's Oz, and the setting of Bob Clampett's
surreal animated short "Porky in Wackyland." The list of alien creatures comes
with knowing, eye-winking ludicrousness.
"The Testament of Athammaus"
Completed
February 1931. First published in Weird Tales, October 1932.
Through another first-person account, this one from
Athammaus, head executioner of the capital of Hyperborea, we hear about a
central event in the history of the continent: the sudden abandonment of the
capital Commoriom. When the execution of highwayman Knygathin Zhaum goes
strangely wrong, the bizarre killer's old ancestry to Tsathoggua starts to
manifest itself. One execution after another cannot keep Knygathin Zhaum dead,
and all of Commoriom soon suffers from the condemned man's disturbing
transformation.
The mordant humor of much of the Hyperborean cycle ebbs
lower in this story. Athammaus does not have Satampra Zeiros' picaresque sense
of irony, but the hideous situation does have an absurd comedy to it, and
Athammaus' pride in his skills as an executioner make for amusing comments about
the one execution that simply will not go the way it should. However,
"The Testament of Athammaus" works mostly as horror, and Smith's ornate writing
reaches superb heights as Knygathin Zhaum turns less and less human; Smith
visualizes the serpentine and mottled appearance of the creature, even in its
more anthropoid stage, with loathsome delight. In a letter to H. P. Lovecraft in
1931, he expressed his satisfaction with the story, and commented that he
thought Knygathin Zhaum was his best monster yet. But it still took two tries to
get the story into Weird Tales, and it has seen few reprints since
despite its quality and centrality to Hyperborean history.
"The Weird of Avoosl Wuthoqquan"
Completed
November 1931. First published in Weird Tales, June 1932.
This is the only Hyperborean story that Farnsworth Wright
bought for Weird Tales on first submission. Smith himself had no great
love for it, calling it "filler," and it served as back-page material in the
magazine. However, it has seen multiple reprints, probably because, as the
shortest of the stories in the cycle, it fits easily into anthologies.
The story falls in a horror subcategory familiar to readers
of E. C. Comics' Tales from the Crypt or anthology television shows: a
hateful, unlikable individual gets a gruesome but appropriate comeuppance.
Greedy money-lender Avoosl Wuthoqquan of Commoriom receives a curse from a
beggar, and the curse comes true when Avoosl Wuthoqquan's avaricious pursuit of
two magical gems leads him into the lair of a Tsathoggua-esque monster with a
snide sense of humor. There is little else to the story, which has an adequate
amount of strange descriptions and sly irony (particularly in the matter-of-fact
final sentence), but nothing otherwise noteworthy or memorable.
The title requires an explanation for modern readers.
"Weird" used as a noun has no connection to the adjective meaning 'strange.' It
derives from the Old English and Scandinavian word wyrd or werde,
meaning fate or destiny. An author less interested in painting a picture of an
archaic world would have named the story "The Strange Fate of the Money-Lender."
"Ubbo-Sathla"
Completed
February 1932. First published in Weird Tales, July 1933.
In his "Black Book," where he kept a record of his
writings, Clark Ashton Smith listed this story as part of The Book of
Hyperborea, even though it only marginally touches on the ancient continent
and begins and ends in contemporary London. It also contains none of the humor
of the Hyperborean stories; Smith attempts to duplicate the style and structure
of H. P. Lovecraft, and succeeds. Like many of Lovecraft's stories, the
protagonist of "Ubbo-Sathla" is an antiquarian on a quest for greater occult
knowledge. He stumbles upon something 'Man Was Not Meant to Know,' and his fate
remains nebulous in an epilogue tacked on the end. The short piece may fit
poorly with the rest of the Hyperborean cycle, but "Ubbo-Sathla" makes for a
first-rate Clark Ashton Smith plunge into the primordial.
The antiquarian in this case is Paul Tregardis,
anthropology student and occult enthusiast, who has obtained a copy of the
French translation of The Book of Eibon. In a curio shop in London he
finds a mysterious rock unearthed in Greenland and believes he has located the
magic stone that Hyperborean sorcerer Zon Mezzalamech used to peer back into the
beginnings of earth to discover tablets of wisdom. Like a Lovecraft character,
Paul Tregardis feels a fateful pull to stare into the stone and repeat the magic
of Zon Mezzalamech to see back to the ultimate beginning and behold Ubbo-Sathla,
the source of all terrestrial life.
Ubbo-Sathla, a primal bio-blob from which all other life
eventually splits away and evolves, is another of Clark Ashton Smith's important
contributions to the Mythos. Ironically, Smith's conception of Ubbo-Sathla does
not deviate far from what some biologists now theorize about the origins of life
on our planet. But where a scientist would marvel at the wonder of such a
primordial creature, both author and character behold it with horror:
There, in the
grey beginning of Earth, the formless mass that was Ubbo-Sathla reposed amid the
slime and the vapors. Headless, without organs or members, it sloughed from its
oozy sides, in a slow, ceaseless wave, the amoebic forms that were the
archetypes of earthly life. Horrible it was, if there had been aught to
apprehend the horror; and loathsome, if there had been any to feel loathing.
About it, prone or tilted in the mire, there lay the mighty tablets of
star-quarried stone that were writ with the inconceivable wisdom of the
pre-mundane gods.
Here Clark Ashton Smith gambols in the black fields of H.
P. Lovecraft, turning the old supernatural horrors into something cosmic,
scientific, and yet even less comprehensible and dreadful than before.
"The Ice Demon"
Completed July
1932. First published in Weird Tales, April 1933.
The three "Ice Doom" stories, following close upon each
other, bring the reader toward the eventual doom of Hyperborea beneath the
advancing glaciers. This mini-cycle differs from the rest of the series:
humorless and seeming to imitate Smith's two other fantasy worlds, Averoigne and
Zothique.
"The Ice Demon" probably occurs chronologically last in the
series. The glacier of Polarion has pushed far south over the continent,
crushing out all of Mhu Thulan. The King of the Northern city of Iqqua vanishes
with his wizard when they try to halt the marching glacier. Years later, a
hunter-trader named Quanga takes two jewelers onto the glacier to find the icy
tomb of the King and retrieve his jewels. Clark Ashton Smith brings down upon
the hapless thieves the 'soul' of the glacier, anthropomorphizing the frigid
death of Hyperborea as a malign entity.
As a straightforward horror story of hallucination amidst
encroaching death, "The Ice Demon" works well. Its theme of a dying civilization
and its bleak loneliness makes it akin to the Zothique stories; perhaps Smith
changed the tone to make this Hyperborean entry an easier sell to Weird
Tales. The story's language is also more direct and less ornate than
customary for Hyperborea, but nonetheless Smith achieves the portraiture of the
glacier as an intelligent force with his usual skill.
Fans of Robert E. Howard will notice a similarity between
this story and the early Conan tale "The Frost-Giant's Daughter." Both contain
astonishing dashes across arctic landscapes that have twisted into unreal
worlds. The two authors wrote their stories roughly around the same time, so a
direct connection seems unlikely, but the similarities nonetheless show the
influence that Smith's style had on other writers in the Weird Tales
circle.
"The White Sybil"
Completed
November 1932. First published in Science & Fantasy Book No. One (1934).
The end starts with the beginning, when Commoriom still
stands and the glacier of Polarion has yet to advance across Mhu Thulan. Then
the White Sybil appears, a fleeting beautiful presence whose lips bring word of
the doom to come—not only to opulent Commoriom, but to all of Hyperborea. The
young man Tortha falls under the trance of the alluring Sybil and follows her up
into the glaciers, where he will receive a vision of the fate of the land. The
concept sounds like a grand way to bring the Hyperborean cycle full circle, and
the disillusioned romance holds promise, but "The White Sybil" feels like Smith
should have spent greater time and detail on it. It reads like a sketch, and
compared to the similar "The Ice Demon," its transcendent, dream-like world has
meager poetic effect. Understandably, Smith never managed to sell this story to
a professional market, and it made its first appearance in a non-paying fanzine.
"The Coming of the White Worm"
Completed
September 1933. First published in Stirring Science Stories, April 1941,
in an abridged version.
Smith unleashed a last "serious" story of the northern
continent before returning to his "grotesque ironies." "The Coming of the White
Worm" contains some of the densest, most archaic prose that Smith ever wrote.
Smith frames the story as Chapter IX of the fictitious Book of Eibon,
from a translation by Gaspard du Nord, the hero of the Averoigne tale "The
Colossus of Ylourgne." This device explains the complexity of the story's
diction, Byzantine even considering the author's usual style. This poetic
language made the story a difficult sell to the pulps. Eight years after writing
it, Smith managed to sell "The Coming of the White Worm" to Stirring Science
Stories, a short-lived pulp from tiny Albing Publications. Like its sister
publication, Stirring Detective and Western Stories, the magazine
survived for only four issues. Smith had to pare down many of his more oblique
words to make the sale. The original version, which didn't see print until 1989,
begins:
Evagh the
Warlock, dwelling beside the boreal sea, was aware of many strange and untimely
portents in mid-summer. Frorely burned the sun above Mhu Thulan from a welkin
clear and wannish as ice. At eve the aurora was hung from zenith to earth, like
an arras in a high chamber of gods.
The abridgement removes the obscure words to create a more
readable but less effective version:
Evagh the
Warlock, dwelling beside the boreal sea, was aware of many strange and untimely
portents in midsummer. Chilly burned the sun above Mhu Thulan from a heaven
clear and pallid as ice. At eve the aurora was hung from zenith to earth like an
arras in a high chamber of the gods.
The abridgement also changes some of the archaic
inflections, such as "he who slayeth" to "he who slays."
The events of the story, however, are identical in both
versions. The sorcerer Evagh, living in Mhu Thulan during balmier days,
witnesses the advent of a mobile iceberg that slays with a magical cold. The
hideous white worm Rlim Shaikorth moves Evagh and his castle onto the iceberg to
join other captive wizards as its servants. When the other wizards begin to
vanish one by one, Evagh starts to suspect Rlim Shaikorth's true reasons for
needing servants.
Smith considered "The Coming of White Worm" a direct
contribution to Lovecraft's Mythos, but again the differences between the two
men's methods of examining extraterrestrial deities are startling. Smith does
not leaven Lovecraft's cosmic terrors with a soupçon of comedy as he does with
the stories featuring Tsathoggua. Smith's focuses instead on the entity, Rlim
Shaikorth, as a fearsome personality who dictates to its followers like a grim
Norse god. If Tsathoggua has a Greek pantheon influence, then Rlim Shaikorth
belongs to the chilly world of the Teutonic gods.
Although it occurs in the early days of Hyperborea, the
frigid whisper of the doom of Hyperborea blows through the story. It feels as if
Smith was trying to make up for the flaws of the two 'Ice Doom' stories that
preceded it. If so, he succeeds: "The Coming of the White Worm" remains one of
the most frequently reprinted of all the Hyperborean stories and a superb piece
of word-sorcery.
"The Seven Geases"
Completed
October 1933. First published in Weird Tales, October 1934.
The term "geases," like Avoosl Wuthoqquan's "weird,"
requires explanation. The Celtic word geas (pronounced gesch)
means a magical compulsion, binding, or taboo, such as forcing a hero to go on a
quest or prohibiting him from taking specific actions. In Celtic myths, a hero
can receive a geas from a sorcerer, a king, or his parents, but most frequently
from witches or hags whose path he crosses.
"The Seven Geases" has no plot in the traditional sense.
Its structure compares best to that of a joke: a similar situation repeats over
and over until a punch line flips around the understanding of all that has
occurred before…or in this case, negates it with the written equivalent of a
rim-shot punctuating a stand-up comedian's bad joke. Ralibar Vooz, a noble of
Commoriom and an expert hunter, makes an expedition into the Eiglophian
Mountains to hunt the subhuman Voormis. But when he interrupts the magical
ceremony of the wizard Ezdagor, the enraged magician casts a geas on Ralibar
Vooz to send him deep under Mount Voormithadreth to the lair of Tsathoggua.
Tsathoggua has no use for the hunter, so he sends him to spider-god
Atlacha-Nacha. Who sends him to the inhuman sorcerer Haon-Dor. Who sends him to…
Farnsworth Wright initially rejected the story as "one geas
after another," but that is exactly the point. Ralibar Vooz's wanderings deeper
and deeper into the subterranean realms beneath the Eiglophians and his
encounters with foul gods and lost races resemble not so much a story as a
amusement park dark ride. Smith has a joyous time with the parade of grotesques;
he often noted this story as one of his favorites. The humorous ironies are
often hysterical: the rational Serpent Men dismiss Ralibar Vooz because there is
"no place for [him] in our economy," and a horde of non-corporeal dinosaurs make
multiple attempts to eat the cursed man but can't keep him inside their bodies.
The crowning gag of "The Seven Geases" comes in its last paragraph. This punch
line brings the story to the only conclusion it could really arrive at—even if
it isn't actually a conclusion at all.
Despite the satiric tone and playful horrors, "The Seven
Geases" has much in common with the themes of H. P. Lovecraft's Mythos. As in
Lovecraft's stories, humans here are nothing more than insignificant pawns to
vast, uncaring powers. Life looks like a cosmic joke, ending either at the whim
of vicious, uncaring deities, or at the whim of a random and capricious
universe.
"The Theft of the Thirty-Nine
Girdles"
Completed April
1957. First published in Saturn Science Fiction & Fantasy , March 1958.
Lack of success with the Hyperborean stories led Smith to
stop writing them in 1933 and turn his energies to the more successful Zothique
series. He went back to Hyperborea only once more, during his last phase of
writing in the late 1950s. Appropriately, he returned to the character who
started the cycle in the first place, loquacious thief Satampra Zeiros. The
comic rogue recounts how he and his beautiful partner Vixeela tried to steal the
thirty-nine bejeweled chastity girdles from the temple of the Moon God Leniqua
in Uzuldaroum. Satampra Zeiros again drenches his language with smirking irony,
such as claiming that he always "endeavored to serve merely as an agent in the
rightful redistribution of wealth." However, the story is a disappointment. It
reads too dryly, and Smith seems to have scant interest in what happens. Nothing
surprising or particularly fantastic occurs, and the conclusion feels abrupt and
unsatisfying.
Fragments and Synopses
One of the mysteries of the Hyperborean stories is the
'loss' of one work, "The Voyage of King Euvoran," to the Zothique series. Smith
planned the story as a Hyperborean one filled with sardonic humor, but his
obsession with Zothique turned the story into one of that far future
continent—with the Hyperborean comedy intact. The story saw print in shortened
form as "The Quest of the Gazolba" in Weird Tales in 1946. Smith
presented his preferred version in his self-published pamphlet, The Double
Shadow and Other Fantasies (Auburn Journal, 1933). This version also takes
place in Zothique, so most likely Smith never finished the Hyperborean version.
The lengthiest fragment to survive is the fascinating "The
House of Haon-Dor." Smith includes the story in his list of entries in The
Book of Hyperborea, but it has only a marginal connection to rest of the
series since it takes place in the contemporary California Sierras. The fragment
introduces Robert Faraway, a youth exploring an old hydraulic mining site who
becomes fascinated with a strange abandoned cabin. The surviving synopsis
continues the story, where the Hyperborean wizard Haon-Dor (encountered in "The
Seven Geases") possesses Faraway with a vampiric spirit. The fragment shows that
Smith had considerable skill describing his own physical world (Northern
California), and his prose portrait of the lonely hydraulic mining site remains
a potent one. Unfortunately, the illness of Smith's parents caused him to
abandon this story, which had the potential to mix together the two worlds in
which he lived: his real one and his literary one.
A few other brief synopsis survive: "The Hyperborean City"
and another adventure of Satampra Zeiros called "The Shadow from the
Sarcophagus," and a handful of poems. After this, Hyperborea at last falls
silent beneath the silencing ice.
Postscript
The Hyperborea series is more 'difficult' than Smith's
other fantasy cycles; its tone varies more than the single-minded bleakness of
Zothique, and its setting is bizarre compared to the mundane medieval Averoigne.
But no other of Smith's works has had such an unusual medley of elements, with
Lovecraftian themes rubbing against satiric jabs, elevated mocking language,
black jokes, and a sense of a slow, chilly annihilation that cannot be escaped.
With all the fears of climatic global climate changes
caused by environmental abuses, could we perhaps one day turn into the new
Hyperboreans? A decadent culture with near-magical abilities that vanished
beneath an unstoppable advance of ice?
I wouldn't worry too much about it. Remember the words on
the newly discovered tablets of the scribe J'oh Struh-mah:
An Ice
Age is coming
But I have no fear
'Cause Hyperborea is freezing
And I, I live by Mu Thulan."
You
can read Part III in the series, "Tales of Zothique,"
here.
Ryan Harvey has
lived most of his life in Los Angeles, although he attended Carleton College in
Minnesota where he studied Medieval History, Classical Islam, and Film. He
considers himself a full-fledged writer, with three completed novels, but has
supplemented his income at various times as a speed reading instructor, reading
development teacher, and magazine copyeditor. When not absorbing mounds of
science fiction and fantasy literature and indulging in pulp, he swing dances
wearing bizarre 1930s clothing. He also maintains his own website:
The Realm of Ryan. |