The Colour Out of Space (Illustrated)
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Product Description
Product Description
'It was a monstrous constellation of unnatural light, like a glutted swarm of corpse-fed fireflies dancing hellish sarabands over an accursed marsh (...)'
H.P. Lovecraft was perhaps the greatest twentieth century practitioner of the horror story, introducing to the genre a new evil, monstrous, pervasive and unconquerable. At the heart of these three stories are terrors unthinkable and strange: a crash-landing meteorite, the wretched inhabitant of an ancient castle and a grave-robber's curse.
This book includes The Colour Out Of Space, The Outsider and The Hound.
About the Author
H. P. Lovecraft was born in 1890 in Providence, Rhode Island, where he lived most of his life. He wrote many essays and poems early in his career, but gradually focused on the writing of horror stories, after the advent in 1923 of the pulp magazine Weird Tales, to which he contributed most of his fiction. His relatively small corpus of fiction-three short novels and about sixty short stories-has nevertheless exercised a wide influence on subsequent work in the field, and he is regarded as the leading twentieth-century American author of supernatural fiction. H. P. Lovecraft died in Providence in 1937.
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
I am trying these days to read more of the authors that have influenced so many others and Lovecraft is one of them. The high priest of `weird', his short stories are dark Gothic fantasies, horror with some fairy tale elements or science fiction thrown in. These are the first I've read, and if the three in this little volume are anything to go by, I'll enjoy reading more and think I'll need to acquire the full anthologies available.
The Colour Out of Space written in 1927 - is a classic Sci-Fi horror tale of a meteorite that falls in a farming valley and gradually poisons everything around it. The dread engendered by this tale's narrator is palpable and terrible - pure evil poisoning and sucking the life out of all living things within its grasp.
The Outsider is more of a fantasy, and strangely brought to mind a miniature reversal of Mark Z Danielewski's magnificent modern horror novel House Of Leaves, in which a door in a house is found with a never-ending world going down, down, down. In this short story a twisted creature discovers a door leading up, up from his dark subterranean castle.
Lastly, in The Hound, a grave-robber takes one amulet too many and is driven mad by a curse. Less `weird' than the preceding two tales, but still highly atmospheric and charged with dark energy.
I loved the `weirdness' of these tales - that word is perfect for them. They were fantastical, bleakly pessimistic, dark in tone as well as lacking sunshine, and rich in descriptive language. Lovecraft is a hit.
The Colour Out of Space written in 1927 - is a classic Sci-Fi horror tale of a meteorite that falls in a farming valley and gradually poisons everything around it. The dread engendered by this tale's narrator is palpable and terrible - pure evil poisoning and sucking the life out of all living things within its grasp.
The Outsider is more of a fantasy, and strangely brought to mind a miniature reversal of Mark Z Danielewski's magnificent modern horror novel House Of Leaves, in which a door in a house is found with a never-ending world going down, down, down. In this short story a twisted creature discovers a door leading up, up from his dark subterranean castle.
Lastly, in The Hound, a grave-robber takes one amulet too many and is driven mad by a curse. Less `weird' than the preceding two tales, but still highly atmospheric and charged with dark energy.
I loved the `weirdness' of these tales - that word is perfect for them. They were fantastical, bleakly pessimistic, dark in tone as well as lacking sunshine, and rich in descriptive language. Lovecraft is a hit.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)
Amazon.com:
5 reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
Fine Old School Horror, but a little too much repetition
27 Oct 2007
A collection of short stories from one of the legends of the horror genre. The title story is pretty good, with perhaps a shade more emphasis on science fiction than usual, but still rather standard fare for this author - he's written several others that are just like it and some of them are even included in this very collection. Once you've read a few such, it's hard to get excited about them. Of somewhat more interest are the shorter tales that diverge a little more from the usual pattern, like the repugnant "Picture in the Cottage" and the chilling "Cool Air". Like so many genre writers, Lovecraft is good at what he does, but only has so many tricks up his sleeve, so no matter how well executed they are, once you've seen them, they're not nearly so impressive the next time around. So if you've never read Lovecraft at all, by all means pick up one of his collections, and find out how they did horror Old School. This one is certainly adequate. But if you've read some Lovecraft and weren't entirely blown away by it, this collection isn't going to change your mind.
More a pamphlet than a book!
7 April 2012
Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase
WARNING: This is not a collection of stories as several reviews mention, but a single short story. There are no illustrations. This is more of a pamphlet than a book, and while the story is great, the product is *not* worth the money. There are much better Lovecraft compilations if you do your homework (which sadly, I failed to do here not noting there are only 36 pages).
"The Colour Out of Space"... one of his best
13 April 2011
Format:Kindle Edition
(This is just about the title story)
Written in 1927, before the idea of radioactivity was in anyone's public consciousness, this is one of my favorite Lovecraft stories. For me, the non-Cthulhu stories have more to offer (The Rats in the Walls, The Music of Erich Zann, Cool Air), but this is arguably one of his best-written, possibly because the whole thing is (for Lovecraft) relatively understated. All the little touches - the trees moving when there is no wind, the strange produce from the crops, the creepy woodchuck - are well put together, and not dwelt on, but they are mirrored by the family's slow deterioration and breakdown.
I reread this recently, prompted by the problems Japan is having with the nuclear plants. Lovecraft didn't know about radiation sickness or the pollution that could be caused by radioactivity, so of course his descriptions of the effect of this meteor aren't anywhere like the real thing. Obviously he wasn't thinking of radiation per se; yet in a way that makes it a little more haunting - the way he describes the slow degradation of the countryside and the effect far beyond the Gardner farm gives it an uneasiness connected with them that's kind of haunting. It's a story without the usual monster shambling on stage at the last couple of pages, and for once Lovecraft must have decided to just see if he could paint more of a mood piece than a fright fest. By the end, we understand why the narrator says
"... nothing could bribe me to drink the new city water of Arkham."
Written in 1927, before the idea of radioactivity was in anyone's public consciousness, this is one of my favorite Lovecraft stories. For me, the non-Cthulhu stories have more to offer (The Rats in the Walls, The Music of Erich Zann, Cool Air), but this is arguably one of his best-written, possibly because the whole thing is (for Lovecraft) relatively understated. All the little touches - the trees moving when there is no wind, the strange produce from the crops, the creepy woodchuck - are well put together, and not dwelt on, but they are mirrored by the family's slow deterioration and breakdown.
I reread this recently, prompted by the problems Japan is having with the nuclear plants. Lovecraft didn't know about radiation sickness or the pollution that could be caused by radioactivity, so of course his descriptions of the effect of this meteor aren't anywhere like the real thing. Obviously he wasn't thinking of radiation per se; yet in a way that makes it a little more haunting - the way he describes the slow degradation of the countryside and the effect far beyond the Gardner farm gives it an uneasiness connected with them that's kind of haunting. It's a story without the usual monster shambling on stage at the last couple of pages, and for once Lovecraft must have decided to just see if he could paint more of a mood piece than a fright fest. By the end, we understand why the narrator says
"... nothing could bribe me to drink the new city water of Arkham."
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