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Holy fuck, Lovecraft was a racist little shit.
I'd only ever read any of the guy's short stories before, and that was years ago, so I decided I wanted to get through at least The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath before before I wrote too much more from Rose's POV.
And wow. Wow, HP Lovecraft. Come here so I can kick you.
On the other hand, to me this book is much more unsettling than his short fiction! It adds an unintended-but-oddly-effective layer of horror to the proceedings that this dude categorized nonwhite people someplace between livestock and the mute servants of the mad gods.
Also, on a level unrelated to the Stout Black Men Of Parg and Muslims Hiding Horrible Things Under Their Headcoverings, the thing is that Lovecraft's schmucks never seem to do or think anything in-narrative to make you give a shit about them. They're kind of bland, and you don't understand how their thought processes work, and if they do care about people other than themselves (or even about themselves), you're not sure why and there's not a whole lot of evidence of it.
I can't tell if that's a narrative choice he was making or just kind of how his brain worked; that these guys were an unwanted intrusion into the stuff he was trying to convey.
However, at novel length we're getting extended exposure to one protagonist, and even though the guy doesn't make much sense as a character, familiarity makes us care about him at least vaguely! So, that works.
And wow. Wow, HP Lovecraft. Come here so I can kick you.
On the other hand, to me this book is much more unsettling than his short fiction! It adds an unintended-but-oddly-effective layer of horror to the proceedings that this dude categorized nonwhite people someplace between livestock and the mute servants of the mad gods.
Also, on a level unrelated to the Stout Black Men Of Parg and Muslims Hiding Horrible Things Under Their Headcoverings, the thing is that Lovecraft's schmucks never seem to do or think anything in-narrative to make you give a shit about them. They're kind of bland, and you don't understand how their thought processes work, and if they do care about people other than themselves (or even about themselves), you're not sure why and there's not a whole lot of evidence of it.
I can't tell if that's a narrative choice he was making or just kind of how his brain worked; that these guys were an unwanted intrusion into the stuff he was trying to convey.
However, at novel length we're getting extended exposure to one protagonist, and even though the guy doesn't make much sense as a character, familiarity makes us care about him at least vaguely! So, that works.
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Also true - I never remember his protagonists! If the purpose of a Mary Sue is to put yourself in her place, his protags are it. I never remember anything about them; I remember the stories with great vividness as though I had been the one wandering through those dream cities and nightmare wastes.