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I know I said I wasn’t enjoying them…but, I suppose that was probably due to the mixed expectations I had before reading the books of Lovecraft’s stories, and only knowing their plots and characters and monsters through what other writers had made of them. They did grow on me though. And now I’m sad that they are done. Because that’s really all there was…the stories in those two collections. Nothing else.

He wrote poetry, I know. But nobody knows him for his poetry, and I am hesitant to even try finding them, given the likelihood of their not being currently in print, aaand the absurd amounts I have already paid for out-of-print books by Thomas Ligotti and Clark Ashton Smith. Not really a habit I can afford to continue.

I am glad I read the stories though. Cthulhu is no longer my favourite monster, and the idea that he is the most widely known of Lovecraft’s monsters is baffling to me now, considering what monstrosities featured into his other stories.

Ah well.
Now it’ll be back to eighteenth century poetry, and then The Giver (the recent movie adaptation of which I am okay with not having seen, since I heard it was awful).

Cheers.

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