Weiss, Henry George (1898–1946),
Canadian-born poet and essayist who wrote weird and science fiction tales under the pseudonym Francis Flagg. Weiss corresponded with HPL sporadically during the period 1930–37; at this time he had communist leanings and may have contributed to HPL’s gradual shift toward socialism. He wrote an HPL-influenced story, “The Distortion out of Space” (WT, August 1934); also a poem, “To Howard Phillips Lovecraft” (WT, March 1938; rpt. Marginalia). See also The Night People(1947), a science fiction novel.
West, Herbert.
In “Herbert West—Reanimator,” the medical student who hopes to learn the secret of reanimating the dead. The story follows his exploits through his college days and post-graduate work, to service during World War I and his own medical practice, as he comes closer and closer, but never fully succeeding, in his attempts at reanimation. Ultimately, the specimens he reanimates band together and destroy him.
“What Belongs in Verse.”
Essay (730 words); probably written in early 1935. First published in Perspective Review(Spring 1935); rpt. MW
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This important essay reflects HPL’s later views on poetry, in which he is shown to have modified his earlier rigidly classicist stance; he now maintains that good poetry must be a matter of images and symbols rather than plain statement.
“What the Moon Brings.”
Prose poem (740 words); written on June 5, 1922. First published in the National Amateur(May 1923); first collected in BWS;corrected text in MW
The narrator professes at the outset, “I hate the moon—I am afraid of it” because he once saw the moon shining on an old garden near a shallow stream. Various strange sights greet the narrator’s eye, including dead faces in the river. Then the waters ebb, and the narrator sees an appalling sight: the vast basalt crown of a “shocking eikon” whose forehead was beginning to appear from under the waves, and whose feet must be an incalculable distance below. The narrator flees in terror. The vignette suffers from vagueness and from a certain hysterical tone that makes the entire work seem flamboyant and unmotivated.
Whateley, Wilbur (1913–1928).
In “The Dunwich Horror,” the more human of the twin offspring of Lavinia Whateley and YogSothoth. Old Whateley indoctrinates the precocious but abnormally mature boy in esoteric study. He is slain by a watchdog when trying to steal a copy of the Necronomiconfrom the library of Miskatonic University. Lavinia Whateley (c. 1878–1926) is the deformed albino mother of Wilbur and his alien fraternal twin. Old Whateley is the aged wizard who is Lavinia’s father and Wilbur’s grandfather. The relationship of these three characters is somewhat of a parody of that of HPL, his mother (no albino, but noted for her queer behavior), and his maternal grandfather, Whipple V.Phillips, who was HPL’s surrogate father until he died. When their respective grandfathers died, Wilbur and HPL were both about fourteen years of age. Other members of the Whateley family include: Curtis Whateley, son of Zechariah Whateley, who looks through a telescope and sees Wilbur’s monstrous twin brother; Mrs. Whateley, Old Whateley’s wife, who died under mysterious circumstances when Lavinia was twelve; Squire Sawyer Whateley, chairman of the local draft board who in 1917 had difficulty finding enough young Dunwich men fit to send to a development camp; Zebulon Whateley, “of a branch that hovered about half way between soundness and decadence,” who receives a frantic telephone call from George Corey’s wife about the ravages of Wilbur’s twin brother; and Zechariah Whateley, who brings Old Whateley some cows that the latter had purchased from his son Curtis.
Wheeler, Arthur.
In “The Man of Stone,” a sculptor who is turned to stone by Daniel Morris when Morris suspects him of making designs on his wife.
Wheeler, Henry.
In “The Dunwich Horror,” one of the party that exterminates Wilbur Whateley’s monstrous twin brother.
Whipple, Dr. Elihu.
In “The Shunned House,” a physician, antiquarian, and uncle of the story’s narrator. He shares his research of the history of the Shunned House with his nephew, and the two eventually attempt to determine
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the source of the house’s notoriety. In so doing, they encounter the monstrous entity that inhabits the house and which overwhelms the elderly doctor.
“Whisperer in Darkness, The.”
Novelette (26,700 words); written February 24–September 26, 1930. First published in WT(August 1931); first collected in O;corrected text in DH;annotated version in CC
The Vermont floods of November 3, 1927, cause great destruction in the rural parts of the state and also engender reports of strange bodies—not recognizably human or animal—floating down the floodchoked rivers. Albert N. Wilmarth, a professor of literature at Miskatonic University with an interest in folklore, dismisses these accounts as standard myth-making; but then he hears from a reclusive but evidently learned individual in Vermont, Henry Wentworth Akeley, who not only confirms the reports but also maintains there is an entire colony of extraterrestrials dwelling in the region, whose purpose is to mine a metal they cannot find on their own planet (which may be the recently discovered ninth planet of the solar system, called Yuggoth in various occult writings) and also, by means of a complicated mechanical device, to remove the brains of human beings from their bodies and to take them on fantastic cosmic voyagings. Wilmarth is skeptical of Akeley’s tale, but the latter sends him photographs of a hideous black stone with inexplicable hieroglyphs on it along with a phonograph recording he made of some sort of ritual in the woods near his home—a ritual in which both humans and (judging from the bizarre buzzing voice) some utterly nonhuman creatures participated. As their correspondence continues, Wilmarth slowly becomes convinced of the truth of Akeley’s claims—and is both wholly convinced and increasingly alarmed as some of their letters go unaccountably astray and Akeley finds himself embroiled in a battle with guns and dogs as the aliens besiege his house. Then, in a startling reversal, Akeley sends him a reassuring letter stating that he has come to terms with the aliens: he had misinterpreted their motives and now believes that they are merely trying to establish a workable rapport with human beings for mutual benefit. He is reconciled to the prospect of his brain being removed and taken to Yuggoth and beyond, for he will thereby acquire cosmic knowledge made available only to a handful of human beings since the beginning of civilization. He urges Wilmarth to visit him to discuss the matter, reminding him to bring all the papers and other materials he had sent so that they can be consulted if necessary. Wilmarth agrees, taking a spectral journey into the heart of the Vermont backwoods and meeting with Akeley, who has suffered some inexplicable malady: he can only speak in a whisper, and he is wrapped from head to foot with a blanket except for his face and hands. He tells Wilmarth wondrous tales of traveling faster than the speed of light and of the strange machines in the room used to transport brains through the cosmos. Numbed with astonishment, Wilmarth retires to bed, but hears a disturbing colloquy in Akeley’s room with several of the buzzing voices and other, human voices. But what makes him flee from the place is a very simple thing he sees as he sneaks down to Akeley’s room late at night: “For the things in the chair, perfect to the last, subtle detail of microscopic resemblance—or identity—were the face and hands of Henry Wentworth Akeley.”