Heathen Edition, $9.95, ISBN 978-1-948316-13-2
Horror, 2020 (Reissue)

HP Lovecraft is the undisputed daddy of cosmic horror, whose works have inspired generations of readers to be afraid of the dark *and* their own minds. But have you ever wondered who would be twisted enough to influence Mr Lovecraft’s own unholy creations?

Enter Arthur Machen, the original master of “What the heck is happening?!” horror. With his supernatural tales, Mr Machen was the earliest author to get under the skin of modern horror, and not in the charming way your creepy uncle does at family gatherings.

Mr Machen’s first successful foray into the world of disturbing fiction was The Great God Pan, which was eventually republished as a novel, paired with a shorter companion piece, The Inmost Light.

While both stories share the same unsettling vibe, the real star of the show is The Great God Pan, a story that has more twists than a pretzel factory and just as much existential dread.

It owes its success as much to its sheer notoriety as it does to its actual merits. Published in 1894, this tale horrified the Victorian public for one very important reason: it dared to include a villainess who is essentially a supernatural femme fatale. You know, a woman who seduces her lovers to death. Sure, the Victorian era was practically swimming in pornography, but the moment you even suggest that people have working genitalia, boom, cue the scandal. Victorian England, everybody! Always ready to clutch their pearls and faint at the mere thought of anything not involving tea and crumpets.

The story unfolds in chapters made up of correspondences and notes, which fans of classic horror will recognize as a favorite technique of authors of that era for building suspense. It’s essentially the tale of a mad scientist conducting some rather questionable experiments on his wife, which lead to catastrophic consequences years later. I mean, if you’re going to experiment on your wife, at least make sure it’s for something more useful or pleasurable than “Let’s see what happens when I tamper with the laws of nature and possibly summon a deity from beyond the stars!”

What makes The Great God Pan stand out, aside from its eyebrow-raising plot, is Arthur Machen’s ability to create an atmosphere of pure dread through suggestion rather than outright explanation. It’s cosmic horror before the term was even coined. Think of it as a horror story that doesn’t explain anything but still manages to leave you checking under your bed for ancient, eldritch forces. It’s the kind of story that makes you wonder: “What is lurking in the shadows?” And when done right, that sense of foreboding is exactly what a good horror story should evoke.

The way Mr Machen explores madness, obsession, and moral decay is truly top-notch. The guy had a knack for making you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. It’s like he had a direct line to Nyarlathotep… or maybe he just had a few too many absinthe cocktails and went on a bender of forbidden knowledge.

But here’s where things get a little dicey for some readers. Arthur Machen’s prose can be a bit much—florid, melodramatic, and dripping with the kind of grandiosity that makes you think, “Maybe you should’ve taken a nap before writing this.” It’s the kind of writing that either pulls you into its web of cosmic horror or leaves you rolling your eyes so hard you can practically hear them scraping your skull. But hey, if it works for HP Lovecraft, it can work for Mr Machen, right?

Then there’s the whole “punishing the sexual woman while letting the mad scientist off scot-free” bit. Oh, Arthur Machen. It’s 1894, and he’s got a clear message: “Women who dare to be sexual will pay the price!” Meanwhile, the mad scientist is just out here experimenting like it’s casual Friday. Talk about a very Victorian moral compass. Some modern readers might find themselves screaming into the void about this one, but hey, it was a different time. Not a better time, but a different one.

Now, let’s move on to The Inmost Light, which is bundled with The Great God Pan like a cosmic horror two-for-one deal. The premise is pretty much the same: a mad scientist experimenting on his wife and unleashing untold horrors.

But here’s the kicker—The Inmost Light is a much shorter story, so it’s more focused. Fans who were turned off by Mr Machen’s flowery prose in The Great God Pan will likely find this one more digestible. It’s like the fast food of weird fiction: quick, satisfying, but not something you’ll remember fondly after the indigestion sets in.

However, its brevity also means that it lacks the same lasting impact. It feels like an early draft of The Great God Pan, just waiting for some more fleshing out.

Also, the twist is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and by the time it lands, you’re already two steps ahead. So, if you were hoping for a wow moment, you’re probably going to be disappointed.

So, in conclusion, if you’re into the kind of cosmic horror that leaves you questioning the very fabric of reality (and also wondering if you should be checking for ancient gods in your closet), The Great God Pan is a must-read. And if you have some time to kill, The Inmost Light is like the weird, slightly awkward cousin at the family reunion—nice enough, but you’re really here for the cool one.

Arthur Machen might not have gotten everything right, but he definitely got the creep factor down. And if that’s what you’re after, then you’re in for a hell of a ride.