The Guide: A Collection of Rare & Unknown Work by Arthur Machen

 

Darkly Bright Press's new Arthur Machen collection, The Guide, is a 260+ page compilation of "eighty-two works originally published across twenty-seven periodicals and spanning nearly three decades," to quote from editor Christopher Tompkins's "A Brief Introduction."  It is subtitled "A Collection of Rare & Unknown Work"--for "rare" we can read it to mean as uncollected from periodicals, and for "unknown" we note that eighteen items are recent discoveries, and not referenced in the standard Bibliography of Arthur Machen (1965) by Adrian Goldstone and Wesley D. Sweetser. 

The titular essay, "The Guide," is one of the previously unknown pieces, and it appears second in the new volume, following "Thou Shalt Not Eat", a polemic against the "pompous twaddle written by . . . scientific people about meat and drink." "The Guide" (from The Daily News, 1918) is a curious rumination upon a country man's view of the city, and the city man's view of the country, both needing a kind of guide. 

And from there we find many disparate but interesting essays, reviews, etc. Some favorites include Machen's essays on some nineteenth-century literary figures from The Daily Herald in the 1920s. (Machen confesses:  "I do not like Balzac. I know that this is heresy according to the Church of Letters. I have made my confession; I am ready for the faggots and the stake.")  For The Morning Post in 1930 he wrote on the "Literary Merit of the Bible" ("It is noble vision, noble in expression."). There is a 1933 review of a volume by Richard Middleton. There are two reviews of Edgar Jepson's Memories of a Victorian (1933), and a review of Jepson's follow-up, Memories of an Edwardian (1937). The volume closes with a number of Machen's letters, including some 1936 exchanges on "folk memory" with Lord Raglan, after Machen had reviewed his book The Hero in John O'London's Weekly. .

I still have much to read in this volume, and I look forward to it. One may not always agree with Machen, but one revels in his ability with words. 

In an appendix there is an example of the shifting title and wordage of a tale from Machen's Ornaments in Jade, known variously as "Nature" or "The Splendid Holiday" or "Romance in Gwent: A Fantasia".  In another appendix is a short piece of "Notes on Arthur Machen's ''Sanfarian'" by Michael Fogus ("Sanfarian" conveniently appears earlier in the volume.)

Published in June in a limited edition hardcover, there are still some copies remaining, but if interested act one should soon to avoid disappointment.  Ordering details are available at the Darkly Bright Press website, here.  

Announcing a New Journal: A Weird Occasional

 cover art by Johnny Mains

A Weird Occasional is just what it sounds like it should be. An occasional publication devoted to the weird, particularly the older and unknown stuff. Edited by Douglas A. Anderson and Christopher Tompkins, the first issue is now available. It includes three essays, and five obscure short stories. The contents are:

2 * Editorial * Douglas A. Anderson and Christopher Tompkins * ed 
5 * M.P. Dare: Beyond the Veil * Johnny Mains * ar 
19 * The Man Who Shot Cassius Crisp * Christopher Tompkins * ar
29 * Ballantine's Chamber of Horrors: A History and Bibliography * Douglas A. Anderson * ar
43 * Introduction to The Crooked Man * Christopher Tompkins * in
43 * The Crooked Man * A. M. Burrage * ss, 1919
49 * Introduction to Our Lost "Others" * Douglas A. Anderson * in
49 * Our Lost "Others": A Toltec Legend * Kenneth Morris * ss, 1933 
55 * Introduction to As a Fly in Amber * Christopher Tompkins * in
55 * As a Fly in Amber * Bernard Capes * ss, 1905
63 * Introduction to The Hut * Johnny Mains * in
63 * The Hut * Elim Henry D'Avigdor * ss, Whims (1889)
87 * Introduction to A Were-Wolf * Christopher Tompkins * in
87 * A Were-Wolf * Arlo Bates * ss, 1882

This oversize issue is about one hundred pages, and is solely available at Lulu (link here for issue one). It is done in color, which looks great, especially for my article on the  "Ballantine's Chamber of Horrors: A History and Bibliography," which includes full cover scans of all the titles in the series. The price is around $8--this is set at the cost of printing.

Comments and submission queries are welcome at aweirdoccasional@gmail.com 

The journal has a new website here.    

Young Machen: A Reader of Curious Books

In 2020, Darkly Bright Press published a collection of early essays by Arthur Machen, dating to 1887 when he served as (uncredited) editor of Walford's Antiquarian Magazine and Bibliographical Review. Last year, an expanded reset edition of this book came out from the same press, adding about forty pages worth of material to the one-hundred-plus pages of the earlier edition.  Plus it sports a new cover.  

The contents is not as wide-ranging as the same publisher's other Machen volumes, but it is interesting, especially to bibliophiles.  Plus we get to read Machen's journalism from the age of 24. 

Here is how Christopher Tompkins, editor and publisher of the book, closes his Introduction.

For the certified bibliophile, a lover of literary exploration or the merely curious, a collection of this sort justifies itself. The archaic dispatches are both entertaining for the quality of the prose and interesting for the array of arcane subjects covered. For the modern reader, the forgotten books become living characters with each title owing its existence to the simple suggestion that it does exist. An obtuse debate upon the effect of ancient geographers upon the mind of Roderick Usher only adds to the obscure proceedings, Certainly, it would be possible for a dedicated enthusiast to hunt down each of these tomes. But the mystery would then be dispelled. In a sense, this lost bookshelf functions best as does the library of Don Quijote—a dusty chamber of the possibly dangerous, perhaps banal books which feed the imagination of man . . . that mad mammal.

Details and ordering information can be found here. 

Arthur Machen: Mist and Mystery

Darkly Bright Press recently issued a volume of stories, essays, and book reviews by Arthur Machen, most of which had not previously been reprinted.  Edited and with an informative introduction by Christopher Tompkins, the book includes three main sections, plus some appendices.

The first section is that of fiction, though it contains only three items:  “Scrooge and the Spirit” (a light satire),  “Many Tower’d Camelot” (also known as “Guinevere and Lancelot” in the rare 1926 volume Notes and Queries), and “Out of the Earth” (an early version of the story which appears in a few Machen volumes). The second section contains seventeen articles and reviews, while the third section consists of extracts from Machen’s “Literary Week” columns from T.P.’s Weekly from 1908 through 1910. Some appendices highlight shorter pieces and cover bibliographical matters.

Rather than analysing the contents, I’m going to let Machen speak for himself, and include a number of quotations that struck me as nice observations, or as ideas nicely worded. The book is available from the usual sources as a trade paperback (US$ 15.00), ISBN  9798986390413.

“I have always been convinced of the fact that Poe’s work is supremely great, that the charm of it is unique in letters.” (pp. 65-66)

“George Bernard Shaw is, in fact, an instance of the most brilliant intellect exercised chiefly on false premises, and Mr. Chesterton shows, it seems to me, how such an antinomy became possible.” (p. 71)

“And behind all this there is, in my opinion, the last and fatal objection: that literature is finally to be judged by literary canons, and that the social or religious opinions of men of letter are not of importance.” (p. 73)

“It is long, I think, since I have read a sadder book than this biography, by Charlotte Fell Smith, of ‘John Dee,’ the famous ‘magician' of the Elizabethan age. . . . It stands to me, I confess, as a symbol, as a concrete illustration of infinite waste and folly and delusion, of the certain and melancholy doom that awaits the men who adventure forth in that quest which is called ‘occult.’” (p. 86)

“This I will say, that anyone who has really taken one of the great undoubted masterpieces to his heart, who has read and re-read it, so that it has become a familiar inhabitant of his mind, will never admire rubbish.” (p. 115)

“Many years ago a brilliant essayist said that Mr. James wrote as if writing were a painful duty. There is truth in the criticism, but it is not all the truth. Personally, I like Mr. James’s best work in spite of his manner, rather than because of it; but his best is certainly very good indeed. . . .  Mr. James is at his happiest in dealing with personalities of men of letters. But his ‘Turn of the Screw’ is one of the very best horror stories ever written.”  (p. 116)

“I have not read ‘John Silence,’ but if it is anything like ‘The Listener,’ by the same writer, it must be very good indeed. I should place that story of the men on the island amongst the whispering, mysterious voice of the willow lushes in the very first rank of tales of terror.”  (p. 116)

“All fine art is essentially and necessarily symbolical.  Art is the presentation of images which symbolise ideas or emotions. A Turner picture is not the mere likeness of a certain scene; the mere likeness could be more perfectly achieved by the camera. It is rather a symbol of the artist’s emotion on beholding a particular landscape, expressed in paint. And poetry, too, is symbolical: it is a collection of sensuous images which are really ‘words’ in the secret language of the spirit.” (p. 130)

“The mass of criticism and cross-criticism already called forth by the event of Edgar Allan Poe’s Centenary would perhaps have been spared were it generally realised that Poe, whose grandfather was a native Irishman, displayed, in life and work, simply the traits which make the Irish always the subject of misunderstanding. . . .  His characteristic mood is eminently Celtic. He was ever brooding on a faint and haunting dream of a past splendour, and he allowed his life to be directed by his dreams. He responded to the moods of Nature, but he saw the world chiefly in its autumn humour. He was oppressed by fear of some impending disaster, conscious of Fate, whose remote trafficking seemed ruthless to the individual, but he sometimes rose to a spiritual exultation that was almost prophetic.”  (p. 137)