William Hope Hodgson is a name most likely familiar only to those who know the roots of weird fiction. Born to a reverend with a rather large family, he was moved from parish to parish and became familiar with such a lifestyle that fits one who can never plant roots in their youth. He was often bullied growing up, in part of because of his height, and this lead him to idolizing the cultivation of fitness. When he was finally of age he became a sailor and set out into the blue abyss. This gave him the time to begin writing and exercising frequently. Many of his early stories revolved around being at sea and the troubles that came with it. Finally desiring his feet firmly on land again, he moved to Blackburn, England and opened a rather primitive form of a gym known as a School of Physical Culture. This time was the most prolific in his life for writing, and over the next fifteen years he released all of his best work. Though next to none of it was very profitable. He soon took a hand in marriage, and then decided to serve his country in World War One. A decision which unfortunately became the last that the relatively unknown author ever made.
Though his death by artillery shelling was tragic, he did leave the early seedlings of what weird fiction was to become alongside one of the most unique novels of the early 20th century – The Night Land. In it, time is no longer relevant to humanity as the sun has died and the ancient records of humanity’s exploits are now viewed as myths. Outside of the towering Last Redoubt, a massive pyramid which protects the remaining humans, all forms of unseen and unimaginable evil lurk. It is quite frankly maybe one of the most imaginative settings ever given form in literature, and it provides for tense and violent confrontation as the main character attempts to venture out into this no-man’s land to rescue his beloved.
H.P. Lovecraft, the master of weird fiction itself, was quite impressed with Hodgson’s work on The Night Land. An essay of his describes his opinion as, “…it is yet one of the most potent pieces of macabre imagination ever written…” and after reading it myself it’s quite easy to see why. The world comes to life with such lines as, “Many scholars believed that, of all the structures surrounding the pyramid, only it had been built by human hands. And on this point alone a thousand books have been written, all contradicting one another, as is the way of such things. It was the same with every other monstrous creature—whole libraries had been penned on every aspect of the Night Land, and millions of such volumes had molded, forgotten, into dust.” or, “And, so to tell more about the South Watcher. A million years gone, as I have told, came it out from the blackness of the South, and grew steadily nearer through twenty thousand years; but so slow that in no one year could a man perceive that it had moved.” These descriptions paint a vivid and terrifying world where just as much is left horrifyingly uncertain as is thought to be known.
Yet with all of my praise, and the praise of a handful of other weird fiction writers from the time, Hodgson received little recognition over the years and even today has managed to escape much deserved praise simply because of the difficult nature of some of his prose. Despite that unfortunate truth, what can be learned from the novel and his stories in general is of the utmost importance to anyone who creates. It seems vital to me to be inspired by the most creative and esoteric worlds, stories, and works, going so far as to actively search for them, so that one can build their craft using ideas that the vast majority of other creators aren’t looking towards. It is also without saying that one aught to attempt to take the most esoteric and beautiful works they discover and spin them into their own creative webs – for practice at the very least.
This is what builds the basis for imaginative and inspiring worlds. It also combats the all too easy trap of falling in love with one’s own ideas too strongly. Therefore, it seems imperative that all creators ask themselves whether their idea is truly unique and can be run by in interesting ways. That is not to say that one must completely forgo profit-oriented thought or delve into the deepest forms of experimentation, shedding all that they have built since nothing is absolutely unique, but it is to say that it seems to wise to meditate on the masters of weird and arcane creations. As T.S. Elliot once said, “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; ” He is quite right as he implies that the wisest thing a poet can do is steal what is tried, true, and brilliant, and twist that into the poet’s own flavorful creation. However, since that’s been done so many times before, why not try stealing what is true, brilliant, and esoteric instead?
The Inky Hearth 