The House on the Borderland; A Review

In the early 90s, I had the privilege of traveling to the British Isles and, while there, picked up a small paperback. I had never heard of The House on the Borderland or its author, William Hope Hodgson. I remember that Brian Aldiss wrote the introduction. Then I remember being so captured by the story that I reread the novel several times until one day, one of my cats destroyed my original copy.

At that time, I discovered ebooks, so I always had a copy of this incredible tale. However, a few days ago, I found a small paperback (see the above graphic) at a bookstore in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Once again, I wandered with the narrator through the western part of Ireland, which is so rural and desolate that few maps of the area exist.

Written in 1908, the main story is framed by two men, Tonnison and the unnamed narrator, avid anglers who fish obscure streams for prize catches. One day, they discover the ruins of a large building perched precariously above a water-filled pit. Nosing about, they find the manuscript written by the last resident of the great House, only referred to as The Recluse.

Accompanied by his elderly sister and dog, Pepper, the Recluse enjoys his extreme solitude until one day, the House is unexplainedly besieged by hideous creatures in the shape of anthropomorphic swine from a nearby pit.

The story continues as the House works its evil will on the Recluse. With him, we fight off waves of the Swine-Things, explore the massive basement, the Pit, and experience a vision of the end of the universe. 

The bottom line is that lovers of weird literature can call themselves true devotees only if they have read this classic story. 

H. P. Lovecraft loved this tale, and he wrote:

The House on the Borderland (1908)—perhaps the greatest of all Mr. Hodgson’s works—tells of a lonely and evilly regarded house in Ireland which forms a focus for hideous other-world forces and sustains a siege by blasphemous hybrid anomalies from a hidden abyss below. The wanderings of the narrator’s spirit through limitless light-years of cosmic space and kalpas of eternity, and its witnessing of the solar system’s final destruction, constitute something almost unique in standard literature. And everywhere there is manifest the author’s power to suggest vague, ambushed horrors in natural scenery. But for a few touches of commonplace sentimentality this book would be a classic of the first water. (Supernatural Horror in Literature by H. P. Lovecraft)

Having reread this tale just a day ago—even though I knew what would happen—the writing still has the power to sway me with its cosmic horror, wonder, and subplot of lost love.

The House on the Borderland by William Hope Hodgson is in the public domain. eBook and PDF copies can be found through any of your favorite search engines. Paperbacks are available through any book dealer.

Good News For Writers

 

False Advertising

I am a huge fan of old-school horror and will eagerly read anything from the late 1800s to the 1980s. I eagerly scour used bookstores for such treats, but occasionally, I run across one that is a real dog.

I introduce you to Earth Sound by Arthur Herzog.

Warning: Spoilers Ahead, but as nobody reading my review will include this in their library anyway, I write a review with lots of spoilers and not a molecule of a guilty conscience.

Harry Vail has a doctorate in seismology. However, he and his girlfriend were present at the March 27, 1964, Alaska Earthquake and Tsunami, an actual historical quake measuring XI on the modified Mercalli Intensity scale. Seeing his girlfriend buried alive under a landslide invoked in Harry an overwhelming dread of earth tremors of any size.

Eventually, Harry marries and moves to what he thinks is the most geologically stable part of the United States, a fictitious coastal town named Old Brompton Village in New England that makes Lovecraft's Innsmouth look like a Pocono resort.

Harry begins feeling tremors in the ground, but even though he is an expert in earthquakes, nobody believes him, and nobody else feels these quakes. Nor do they hear the Moodus noises, the earth sounds of the title.

Combine this with weird summer neighbors that have all the caricatures of the spoiled filthy rich, the hostility of the townsfolk toward outsiders, in the end you have an incredulous tale where you do not just suspend disbelief, you have to drag it kicking and screaming into a dark alley and beat it to death.

Of course, in the end, the big earthquake hits, one even larger than the one Harry experienced in Alaska that wipes out the town (where we eventually discover the townsfolk have been worshipping the Moodus noises for generations and, for some reason, will kill to keep it all secret). Unfortunately, I found the earthquake so anticlimactic that when I finally reached the end, I was grateful to have finished the book but saddened at the loss of time I invested in it. I'm just thankful the used bookstore only wanted $3.00 for it.

So why is this a good turn of events for writers? Because if Herzog could publish this doggeral, there is hope for all of us.

Now, what should I do with this book? I cannot give it to friends, and I certainly do not want it taking up space in my library. I will most likely donate this to a thrift store with this review tucked away within its pages.