Xenograffiti (6 page)

(1983)

Nothing is known today of Alexander de Comeau; no biography survives, no obituary, no pictures. His nationality may be either French or English. He wrote only two books, the first,
Fires of Isis
, published in 1927 by a London vanity press (Arthur H. Stockwell), the second,
Monk’s Magic
, issued simultaneously in London and America in 1931 by Methuen and E. P. Dutton, respectively. Letters sent to his publishers proved equally negative: the American publisher referred the matter to the English house, and Methuen reported all correspondence and records destroyed during the London Blitz. What survives of the man, for all practical purposes, is encompassed within the 250 pages of his only readily available novel.

And this is a marvelous piece of writing: witty, sparkling, filled with life and
joie de vivre
. Brother Dismas is a lay brother in an unspecified order of monks during the early Tudor period of English history. He has never taken the priestly vows, with good reason: his abbot has given him a dispensation to pursue the magical arts and alchemy in the hope that he can find an elixir of life to restore the abbot to youth and good health. Dismas’s final attempt with dragon’s blood merely produces an explosion, and he determines, with his abbot’s blessing, to locate those magi who claimed in their writings to have found the elixir and to ask their help in supplying the missing ingredient.

The nearest of these men, Lucius Germanicus, was last known to be living in Germany; Brother Dismas’s way there lies through London, where he gains two companions: Gabriel, a lad of about twenty, and Thomas Brackenridge, an English physician and healer. Gabriel seeks his father, Ralph Terven, who went abroad several years before and has never returned; Thomas must flee England at once, having offended a powerful nobleman with a cure that was more painful than the illness. Gabriel leads Dismas to Ibrahim bin Judah, a Jewish magician who helps the trio escape across the Channel. From Rotterdam on the coast, they voyage up the Rhine to Dachsenberg, where Germanicus is said to have lived. They take rest in a tavern below the castle.

During the night, the local Baron’s men, having spotted “Gabriel” while drinking in the tavern, spirit “him” away to their lord; for, as Thomas explains to Dismas the next morning, Ralph Terven had but one child, a daughter called Radegonde, and the Baron has a predilection for young, innocent girls. Dismas, although a man in his mid-thirties, is more innocent because of his cloistered life than his young companion has been, but even he realizes what peril the girl is in and determines to help her if he can. He uses the Hand of Glory, the hand of a corpse made into a candelabrum, to gain entrance to the castle, where he is confronted by the resident magus, Albrecht, son of the man he is seeking.

Dismas is dismayed to learn that Lucius Germanicus has died at the age of 119; his son, himself now ninety-nine, claims to have found the secret of life: it lies, he says, in the last three drops of a virgin’s blood. Fortunately, the old man continues, the Baron has a virgin locked up at that very moment in a cell overlooking a sheer drop to the river; all that Albrecht has to do is to find Radegonde/Gabriel before the Baron ravages her, kidnap the wench, and then drain away the girl’s blood until only three drops are left. With Dismas as his assistant, the magus continues, they are certain to succeed. Dismas, who is beginning to have tender thoughts for the girl, is horrified at this threat, but pretends to go along with the old man to effect her rescue.

Radegonde/Gabriel is no fool, however, and no coward; in the middle of the night, she determines either to escape or die trying, and eases herself out of her cell through its waste hole. She then makes a horrifying descent down the rock wall, using cracks, crevices, and the light of the moon to inch her way to the castle base. She loses her grip and falls backward, dropping twenty feet to the river; she is discovered there the next morning by Gita, a peasant girl. The peasants have no love for their Baron, who has used them unmercifully, and Gita and her betrothed, Hubert, decide to help the fugitive.

Dismas, in the meantime, is persuaded by Albrecht to enter the realm of the dead, where he can determine for himself whether any of those who have claimed to have made the elixir work actually escaped the Grim Reaper. The magus’s potion succeeds, but Dismas is disappointed to learn that all of those he wishes to consult are in the netherworld—all have failed. Albrecht has been informed during Dismas’s sojourn that the local coven of witches under Albrecht’s control has captured the two girls; Albrecht orders a black mass during which the virgin will be sacrificed. Mad Hans, the magus’s assistant, offers to help Dismas stop the ceremony. When Dismas appears, the monk shows the hags the talisman he had been given by a gypsy in England, a token of power over all witches; they must not interfere. Albrecht is stopped and dies in rage as his hand is slapped away from the girl’s throat.

Thomas has found Radegonde’s father living as a hermit in a nearby cave and arranges a reunion. Radegonde persuades Dismas that he loves her, and they all return to London, where Thomas learns that the indisposed Earl has recovered from his illness and now credits Thomas with the cure. His friends’ fortunes restored and his own heart secured, Dismas returns to his abbey, both to report his failure to his abbot and to resign his position as lay brother. The abbot has sunk into senility, however, and Brother Nicholas, temporarily in charge, threatens to lock Dismas away unless the alchemist reveals his secret. Dismas disavows the elixir, for he has come to realize the futility of living eternally; however, he suggests that the brother take the gypsy amulet, which is known by the ancients to have great power, and call up the Devil, who can grant immortality for the price of a soul.

In a curious epilogue, Brother Nicholas calls the Prince of Darkness out of his pit and offers him his soul, but the Black Prince will have none of it, saying that he is not what men make him to be. Nevertheless, although Nicholas has nothing to give in return, he will grant the monk’s request—eternal youth and life—until he grows tired of it. As for Dismas, he has ordered his life as befits a man.

Here is a novel of adventure, magic, fantasy, sorcery, love, and life. Dismas is a complex character, a shy, scholarly recluse who grows emotionally into a fully-rounded human being. Not a man of action, he nevertheless does what needs to be done to save his friends from death or torture. Radegonde, his paramour, has a bolder, more sparkling personality; intelligent, humorous, and directly courageous, she decides her own fate by taking it into her own hands. Comeau’s style anticipates that of L. Sprague de Camp and Fletcher Pratt ten years later; his work deserves wider attention than it has received.

THE HORROR FICTION OF ELEANOR M. INGRAM
(1983)

with Mary A. Burgess

Eleanor M. Ingram was just beginning a promising career as a novelist when she died at the age of thirty-five, leaving three or four undistinguished fictions of modern-day life and a last book, her only venture into fantasy, which stands as a monument to her unrealized abilities, and which is perhaps the single most neglected novel of supernatural fiction written by an American author between the late Victorian period and the advent of H. P. Lovecraft in the mid-1920s.

In every way,
The Thing from the Lake
(1921) remains a thoroughly modern work, as readable today as it was when it was first published more than seventy years ago. Roger Locke, a well-known writer of popular songs, buys the old Michell property in rural Connecticut, determined to find a secluded refuge from the pressures of New York City. During his first night in the house, he wakes to find a braid of hair trailing through his open hand. A woman’s soft voice warns him to leave the house while he still can, but when he manages to find a light, the girl has vanished, leaving a cut length of hair dangling by his bed. Later that same night, Locke hears a horrifying sucking noise emanating from the swampy lake behind the house and smells a hideous stench pouring in through the window. In the midst of the spell, he realizes that something is watching him, physically or psychically, that some presence in the lake is casting a hypnotic net over his soul, seeking to destroy his willpower and draw him into its grasp. With great difficulty, he manages to pull away, and leaves the house the next morning.

Meanwhile, back in the city, Locke’s cousin Phillida has eloped with Ethan Vere. At first suspicious of the man, Locke gradually comes to see his true worth and to accept Phillida’s judgment of her lover. With some consideration of their plight (they have no money, and Phillida’s mother disapproves of the match), he offers them the use of his rural estate in return for their assistance in refurbishing the house and lands, both of which are in a state of decay. They accept, and Locke is pleased to find on his next visit that the couple has worked miracles with the three-hundred-year-old house, making it into a warm, pleasant retreat.

Locke continues to be disturbed through his second sojourn by the returning wraith of the girl, whose spirit he has grown to love in spite of himself, and more frighteningly, by the Thing lurking in the ooze beyond the house. The creature’s malevolent intelligence is directed entirely at subduing Locke’s will and drawing him through the barrier between man’s world and the other plane to become its slave. The Thing is implacable and unwavering; however much Locke might resist, he cannot resist forever, and the being in the lake will wait as long as necessary to capture his soul. The continuing presence of the girl as part of the puzzle mystifies Locke until he discovers an old diary in the house. The seventeenth-century journal details the sordid events surrounding the life of Desire Michell, a daughter of the old Michell family who had built the house centuries before.

Desire had first dabbled with the love-struck men around her and then with the black arts, with calamitous results. After murdering a lover by witchcraft, she had embraced necromancy completely, determined to call up a creature from the beyond to act as her all-powerful avenging servant. There was a barrier between men and the other orders of beings which neither could breach by himself; but with the proper incantations and with the assistance of one from this realm, the breach had been made, and the colossal, formless intelligence issued forth into the world. Unable to control what she had called forth, Desire Michell was destroyed by the Thing, which then occupied the ruined foundations of the house, later covered by a lake. A new house was built by the survivors of the family nearby. In the ensuing centuries, there were several other descendants with the name Desire Michell, each one becoming a tool that the creature used to enslave men, each one meeting a final horrible end. Only one member of the family now remains, the current Desire Michell, a girl whom Locke has seen fleetingly on several different nights, and with whom he has fallen in love.

After a near brush with death, Locke determines to resolve the situation, and with the help of Phillida and Vere, he captures the current Desire, discovering that she is a living being fully aware of the creature’s menace and anxious to warn Locke away. Locke, however, must have his Desire, so the two couples prepare themselves for a last struggle against the creature. A vicious storm destroys the lake, freeing the creature to advance on the house; waves of icy psychic foulness break over the frail human beings as the Thing demands obeisance as its price for their continued life. Locke offers his life in exchange for the girl’s, thereby freeing her from the spell it holds over her; Vere calls upon God to thrust the creature back into its realm. In a mighty, cataclysmic flash, the breach is healed, the Thing returned to its world, and the human beings left to reassemble their disrupted lives. Courage and sacrifice, Ingram seems to be saying, are not enough to fight off the despoiler; one must also have faith in God the Almighty.

In its tone, style of writing, and theme,
The Thing from the Lake
presages the writings of H. P. Lovecraft, particularly his Cthulhu Mythos stories. The presence of horribly malevolent and indescribable creatures from a dimension beyond man’s ken has become almost a stereotype in American supernatural writing of the twentieth century; its presence here, however, may be the first developed writing on that theme, and as such, the novel is a landmark of horror literature. It is indeed unfortunate that Ingram never had the chance to develop the kind of following gathered by Lovecraft; her early death not only deprived supernatural fiction of a major talent, but also caused her one major contribution to the genre to be eclipsed by the
Weird Tales
school.

CHARLOTTE HALDANE’S
MELUSINE
(1983)

Charlotte Haldane came from a distinguished English family which included such luminaries as J. B. S. Haldane, the noted scientist (her brother), and she added to their luster with a distinguished career of her own as a journalist and writer. A pioneering feminist, she wrote a dystopian novel of the future,
Man’s World
, which was published in 1926 to great acclaim; serious mainstream novels; and nonfiction of all kinds, including articles, commentary, and reviews.
Melusine; or, Devil Take Her!
(1936), however, was her only fantasy novel. It is a rich, full-bodied work, loosely adapted from the medieval legend fashioned by Jean d’Arras for his master, Prince Jean, son of King Jean II of France.

One must not confuse the legend with the real history of the region: there was a Lusignan family in Poitiers from an early date, and Geoffroy de Lusignan did burn the Abbey of Maillezais in 1232; the family later gained prominence b0079 participating in the Crusades, its members becoming Kings of Jerusalem and Cyprus. The tale constructed by Jean d’Arras wove elements of this real-life history together with the legend of Melusine, which was inextricably linked with the rounding of the castle of Lusignan. Charlotte Haldane took this raw material and used it to construct a different kind of story, one which emphasized characterization, particularly that of Melusine, and the motivations of the “devil cult” working to destroy the “evil” influences of Christianity. The result reads as well today as it did when it was first published in 1936.

Emery, Earl of Poitiers, invites his brother-in-law, Henry, Earl de Forests (a small and impoverished realm), to his castle for a celebration. Henry brings his three young sons, the youngest of whom, Raymond, captivates everyone with his charm, intelligence, and good looks. Emery had been urged to invite his relatives by Owain Wanderer, the castle wise man and philosopher. Owain, of Welsh origin, is the head of a secret cult which outwardly worships the Devil but actually seeks to restore a more humanistic philosophy of government and religion to a land oppressed by monks, corrupt functionaries, and religious taxation to support the privileged few. The long-term political aims of this religion/cult involve manipulating the Earldom of Poitiers to ensure the succession of someone sympathetic to its aims.

Within days, Raymond has been adopted by his uncle, and he soon becomes good friends with Bertrand, Emery’s only son and heir. Owain, meanwhile, gradually convinces Earl Emery, who is tiring of his position after decades in power, that Raymond is his true successor and that the transfer of power must be symbolic, according to the old forms. Emery and Raymond go on a boar hunt, where Raymond accidentally kills his “father”; unbeknown to Raymond, Emery has arranged the killing, acquiescing to his own murder. Bertrand succeeds to the earldom, and Raymond requests of his cousin the small piece of land surrounding the cave where the cult holds its most secret ceremonies. There he meets Melusine, Princess of Albany, who has been brought there to seduce Raymond and run his life, but who eventually falls in love with him. The castle of Lusignan is built next to the cave. Within a few years, Owain has poisoned Bertrand, and Raymond, the next heir, becomes Earl. Melusine, high priestess of the cult, conducts a service each Saturday evening in which she appears in a suit woven from adders’ skins. Owain, having brought his plans to fruition, leaves the country to scout other areas of the world for possible control. Melusine and Raymond, utterly devoted to each other, rear eight sons.

Owain arranges for the three older sons to seek their fortunes in distant lands, where they repulse the Saracens and marry female heirs to three different thrones. As the years pass, trouble threatens when Melusine gradually becomes enamored of the Christian faith and discontinues the weekly Sabbaths. When informed of her lapsed ways, Owain returns to Poitiers and forces her to hold another ceremony. There he rapes her on the high altar; nine months later, a son, Geffray, called “The Devil,” is born. Geffray is wholly unlike his brothers: unruly, disrespectful, independent, courageous, and rash, it is clear that he will be the heir of both Raymond and Owain. Upon coming of age, he immediately establishes himself as a mighty warrior, putting down rebellious lords and conquering enemies in several different lands. His hatred for religions of all kinds is evident. Learning that his younger brother, Froimond, has become a monk, he bolts off across the countryside, burning the abbey and all its members, including his kin. He then leaves immediately for Albany, in Britain, where a giant is threatening the people.

Geffray’s actions have far-reaching consequences. In Albany, Owain greets him as his son and tells him of his destiny. In Poitiers, Raymond renounces both son and wife, whereupon Melusine must take her leave. Appearing in the great hall of the castle dressed in her snake suit, she bids farewell to her lover and plunges from the open window into the moat far below. Raymond is left utterly destroyed. Geffray returns from overseas to claim his lands, which Raymond no longer has the will to rule; Raymond retires voluntarily to a hermit’s life in Spain. Geffray restores the land’s peace. Melusine, who has not been killed, returns to Albany, where she lives with Owain until the latter dies; she then is united with her triplet sisters, who had also been impressed into duty in far-off lands. When Raymond finally dies, years later, a great thunderstorm breaks over Lusignan.

Haldane has invested the legend with new life, making full-blooded characters out of the players. Melusine, in particular, is one of fantasy’s most attractive female characters: intelligent, attractive, politically knowledgeable, and strong-willed. Owain is also a “fine figure of a man”: wise, virile, sensitive, and humane, far better in many ways than his Christian opponents. Owain and his ilk desire the return of the earthbound values of hearth, home, loyalty, and respect; he possesses no skills other than his own very human abilities to move men and women. In many respects, the book anticipates the Deryni novels of Katherine Kurtz, although Kurtz is more sympathetic with the Christian side of the conflict than is Haldane. For both writers, the powers of the mind are the only magical forces at work, aided at times by objects of power (Melusine, for example, possesses the ability of precognition, reinforced by use of a crystal); for both, political conflict is at the heart of their work in the interactions of mighty men and women.
Melusine
is a superior novel of fantasy, richly wrought and imbued with the aura of the Middle Ages; it deserves a wider readership and wider critical acclaim.