The more you know about H.P. Lovecraft, the more you’re apt to enjoy CTHULHU UNBOUND, a Permuted Press anthology of “genre-bending tales” involving the author’s vast mythology. Edited by Thomas Brannan and John Sunseri, the collection features 15 stories in a variety of genres, but if you don’t know your Shub-Niggurath from Nyarlathotep, I’m afraid you’ll be mostly lost.
The book’s inventiveness is evident from the start, as Linda L. Donahue’s opening story is a noir detective tale, albeit one with a protagonist who has cloven hooves. Things get more English and proper for Kevin Lauderdale’s “James and the Dark Grimoire,” in which one Aunt Agnes of the Ladies Auxiliary seeks a rare book she thinks is called something like “the Nickel Norman Chrome.”
Doug Goodman puts a Western coat on things with “Hellstone and Brimfire,” featuring a hero called the Dead Ranger, who needs to carry no guns, so long as the stars above are with him. Kim Paffenroth has one of the most clever pieces, reimagining a chapter of MOBY-DICK to include the fishmen of “Dagon.”
“The Hindenburg Manifesto” by Lee Clark Zumpe involves Nazis, the occult and one famous flaming dirigible. Another tragedy — 9/11 — informs Steven Michael Graham’s “In Our Darkest Hour,” in which scientists investigate rumors of the Eye of Eternal Night being found among the World Trade Center debris. Permuted Press regular D.L. Snell again plays around in post-apocalyptic times with “Blood Bags and Tentacles,” in which well-armed survivors encounter something with many arms.
In Ben Thomas’ “The Menagerie,” a prince wishes to acquire a Shoggoth for his collection of beasts, and C.J. Henderson delves into the disappearance of a doctor behind closed doors for a “Locked Room” mystery. I was familiar with very few of these writers, so it would have been nice for Brannan and Sunseri to allow room for author bios, not to mention an introduction to the entire volume; as is, they put no personal stamp on the contents.
All in all, UNBOUND is a mixed bag. Its enjoyment for the average reader would be heightened if the stories didn’t assume an already advanced knowledge of Lovecraft’s work. This seems to be a recurring problem with Lovecraft pastiches I have read; as a more casual fan of his stories, I’m often turned off by the fervent-fan approach many authors take. Half the time, as here, it’s enough to drive one mad — say, perhaps straight to Arkham Asylum. —Rod Lott
