Friday, October 31, 2025

Halloween Review: Black Seas of Infinity: The Best of H.P. Lovecraft

All views in this blog are my own and represent the views of no other person, organization, or institution.

 A version of this article appeared in Knights of the Dinner Table #122 (December, 2006).


From 2006 through 2012 I was the "Off the Shelf" columnist for 
Knights of the Dinner Table, a magazine and comic book devoted to tabletop fantasy role paying games. I reviewed classic and modern fantasy, horror, and science fiction novels. Every October I tried to review a work of classic horror in honor of Halloween. I am trying to continue that tradition with my blog. You can find previous Halloween Reviews here. 

After Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft is the most influential American horror author. A master of the short story form and one of Weird Tales most successful authors, his fiction heavily shaped the horror, fantasy, and science fiction genres. This influence is so pervasive and widespread that it often goes unremarked; few are aware, for example, of his correspondence with Robert Bloch, the author of Psycho.  In fact, Stephen King wrote in Danse Macabre that Lovecraft's influence "overlies almost all of the important horror fiction that has come since."

Lovecraft was himself heavily influenced by Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Machen, and Lord Dunsany, as well as Bulfinch’s Mythology and The Arabian Nights.  Critical of his own work, Lovecraft considered much of his writing to be a simple pastiche of either Poe or Dunsany, though many reviewers would disagree.  He shared their talent for atmosphere and other-worldliness, yet his prose has a distinct, decayed quality that one could never mistake for Poe’s genteel gothic manner or Dunsany’s formal fairy tale mode.

He was the center of an extensive circle of correspondents who read each others stories, suggested improvements, and even story ideas to each other.  The group’s membership is a virtual whose who of early American science fiction and fantasy: Robert E. Howard (Conan), Fritz Lieber (Lankhmar), Robert Bloch (Psycho), August Derleth (founder of Arkham House), Clark Ashton Smith (the Averoigne stories), Frank Belknap Long (‘The Hounds of Tindalos’), and many others.  Though his personal advice and insight was no doubt important, simply acting as the catalyst and center of this group, and thus bringing about a sort of critical mass of intellectual stimulation, would alone leave us in Lovecraft’s debt.

Lovecraft’s impact on role-playing games was early and extensive.  Sahuagin and mind flayers were clearly inspired by Lovecraft, and the Cthulhu mythos was a much loved section in the original Deities and Demigods.  Lovecraft’s direct influence is noted in his inclusion in the famous ‘inspiration’ list of the 1st edition Dungeon Master’s Guide, as well as being obvious in Gygax’s faux-archaic writing style.  More directly, Lovecraft’s stories and concepts are clearly visible in the design of the ‘Chapel of Chaos’ found in B2 Keep on the Borderlands and the temple of WG4 The Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun.  Most of the mythology Gygax built up around Tharizdun is Lovecraftian in concept.  In deed, it is difficult to find an early AD&D module that doesn’t owe something to Lovecraft in tone, plot, or style.  His influence extended beyond D&D into later role-playing games, the ‘Wyrm’ of White Wolf’s Werewolf: The Apocalypse game owes a great deal to Lovecraft.

Of course, while Lovecraft’s writing did more than inspire game designers, an entire game system was created to draw players into his uniquely horrifying visions.  Call of Cthulhu, published in 1981 by Chaosium is considered a truly classic role-playing game, perhaps the best horror genre role-playing game ever.  Its primary distinction is that player characters are as likely to go insane as they are to die, a touch unique to the game, and very true to Lovecraft’s themes and motifs.  

Lovecraft’s stories are at once dream-like, horrifying and miasmic.  He filled his prose with obscure, often difficult words and odd stylizations.  In another writer this would be simple distraction, but for Lovecraft it serves to highlight the atmosphere of foreboding alienation that he believed was at the heart of all ‘weird’ fiction.  Lovecraft’s central theme is that mankind’s role in the universe is so tiny, so ultimately irrelevant, that most would go insane simply to view his truth.  The ultimate Lovecraftian horror is the perception of a vast, uncaring universe. 

His protagonists are generally ignorant of the true nature of the horrors they face, and frequently fail to either end or escape the danger.  His antagonists are nearly always other worldly, but if one looks close, they are seldom evil in any traditional or meaningful sense.  They quite often destroy their victim without ever noticing that the victim is present. 

Lovecraft’s his work cannot be truly classified as science fiction, as so much of it is based on philosophical and scientific nonsense.  Moreover, he was very much a man of his time: his overt racism and sexism stains many of his stories so that even the protagonist is unpalatable to the modern reader.  But his mastery of atmosphere and exploration of nihilism makes his work a profitable, sometimes enjoyable, and always eerie read nonetheless.

Black Seas of Infinity, published  by the Science Fiction Book Club in September 2001, presents Lovecraft’s best stories, and the reader should not miss gems such as “The Mound”, “The Call of Cthulhu”, “The Shadow of Innsmouth”, or “At the Mountains of Madness.”  Any of these provide wonderful ideas for the gamemaster and an hour or more of disturbed pleasure for the general reader, but the back of the book contains great value as well, in the appendices.  Lovecraft’s “History of the Necronomicon” is a wonderful template for any powerful magical book, and the essays on his life and how to write fiction provide excellent advice for writers and gamemasters.     

Despite his flaws Lovecraft is a founding father of modern fantasy and science fiction.  If you haven’t yet read his works, find a nice, bright public spot with happy music and then sink into his prose. 



Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Review: His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik

 All views in this blog are my own and represent the views of no other person, organization, or institution.

 A version of this article appeared in Knights of the Dinner Table #136 (February, 2008).


The Napoleonic Wars have long fascinated gamers. In fact, the first true gaming book, H.G. Wells’ Little Wars, is essentially a set of rules for wargaming the Napoleonic Wars. At any given general gaming convention a few tables a sure to be covered with Napoleon’s armies marching against Lord Wellington, or with Nelson’s warships sailing to victory at Trafalgar. Along with the American Civil War and World War II the period sits at the top of the war gaming heap.

And why should it not? The period is bright, colorful, and melodramatic. Brave men face lethal technologies with naught but their courage only a heartbeat away from being shot by a musket or skewered on a sword blade. It has some of the very best works of fiction in multiple tongues, including Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace, C.S. Forester’s superb Hornblower novels, and Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables.  

The period has drawn fantasy and horror writers alongside myriad alternative history works in both games and fiction. Flintloque, a fantasy miniatures skirmish game imagined the English as orcs and the French as elves, while the instant classic novel Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke posited the war if English Magic were rediscovered and restored to its rightful place of power. Seth Grahame-Smith imagined a Napoleonic Britain overrun by Zombies and good manners in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

Naomi Novik breaks similar ground with His Majesty’s Dragon, in which she imagines an Earth where dragons are real and powerful, albeit rare, creatures. The historical past is unclear, but in broad outline seems to have followed our own world’s timelines. The introduction of dragons seems to have relatively little impact on British society and the war between Britain and Napoleon’s France seems posited on the same root causes. Though divided into breeds, dragons are rare and powerful. They seem to have little role in society beyond military service (though later books apparently adjust this concept somewhat) but are large, powerful flyers. Individual dragons bond with individual humans, though they are longer lived. This is very similar to the way Anne McCaffrey’s Pern dragons bond with humans, but lacks the telepathic impressment. Novik’s dragons and their riders interact much like McCaffrey’s but lacking the telepathic ties the pairings feel more like a pair of humans falling in love. 

The novel charts the course of the dragon Temeraire and her human captain, Will Laurence.  Laurence is a frigate captain in the Royal Navy, who wins a grand prize, a dragon egg, from a French vessel.  Unexpectedly chosenas handler by Temeraire, he enters the Aerial Corps as an outsider, and he and Tremeraire work together to thwart Napoleon’s plans to conquer England. 

Full disclosure, in addition to wargaming in the Napoleonic period for years, and reading a great deal of period historical fiction, including some of the expected Bernard Cornwall Sharpe  and the Patrick O'Brian Aubrey–Maturin series, my professional work has been hyper focused on the Age of Sail over the last seven years. I am writing a history of U.S. Marines from 1798-1859. So, perhaps I am being overly critical with the next bit. Nonetheless...

In combat, the Novik's dragons fight in an odd style that is clearly an attempt to merge McCaffrey’s thread fights with the nautical conflicts of C.S. Forester or Patrick O’Brian. The dragons carry crews of a dozen or so, using muskets, bombs, and even boarding actions against each other. The dragons are highly intelligent yet they need "handlers?" The result is oddly unconvincing, were dragons real it seems highly unlikely that they would be used as Novik imagines, certainly not if they intelligent creatures. If they allowed themselves to be used as beasts of war they surely would have a better understanding of aerial combat than any human would have. The dragons fail to inspire the sort of awe that Tolkien's Smaug brings, and her world building falls flat when compared to the precise science fiction underpinnings of McCaffrey's Pern, the most obvious comparison. 

A lack of authenticity bedevils her dialogue as well.  Novik betrays an incomplete grasp of the period’s style that is particularly noticeable those who have read Clarke’s magnificent Jonathon Strange and Mr. Norrell. It is obvious that she imagines the British Aerial Corps’ officers as non-traditional precisely so she can free herself of the period restrictions which would have elevated her novel’s style and accomplishment. Novik is so busy trying to merge two distinct genres (fantasy and historical fiction) that the seams of her novel occasionally fail to meet neatly.

Despite merging disparate styles into a single pastiche, His Majesty’s Dragon is a fun, enjoyable read.  The flaws are glaring, but the two main characters are engaging and the premise intriguing.  There are far worse ways to spend time than reading a failed but noble experiment, and game masters will undoubtedly gather many excellent ideas for using dragons in their own campaigns. There is, moreover, always the hope that the subsequent volumes will improve in style. (although, I have to admit that 16 years after I first read this novel, I still haven't been inspired to read the others despite my immersion in the period)  

Still, for a first novel, it is quite an achievement and readers lacking my historians obsessions will enjoy the work even more.

All views in this blog are my own and represent the views of no other person, organization, or institution.