originally published The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, April 1990
Our narrator (in proper Lovecraft pastiche tradition, unnamed) is a social anthropologist whos special area of study is clowns. Or he just has a clown fetish. I'm going with that one.
Through a colleague, he hears of a remote town called Mirocaw, in an unnamed state, which hosts an annual festival which includes clowns. So he rushes off to Mirocaw.
In typical Liggotti fashion, the town is weird and the people are weirder, and unfriendly, and unhelpful. But he does learn there is a festival being held in late December, and it does indeed involve clowns.
He also comes across an article with some details about the town and its festival traditions. Written by one Dr. Raymond Thoss, our narrator's favorite teacher from college. Who apparently sort of quietly disappeared some years ago. What's more, UN realizes that an old man who ignored him in a particularly run-down part of Mirocaw appeared to be a greatly aged Dr. Thoss.
UN makes his way back to Mirocaw in time for fest. He attempts again to communicate with Dr. Thoss, but instead finds himself intimidated by a horde of zombie-ish goons who surround the good doc, and he's forced to flee.
He discovers that, yes, there are clowns roaming the streets, and the locals seem to be harassing and bullying them. He soon learns this is part of the tradition. He also learns there's more than one type of clown - fairly traditional ones in bright colors, and drab, scary clown-bums who apparently emerge from the ghetto section, and whom townsfolk seem to avoid.
In an attempt to learn more, UN dresses himself as a rundown clown and joins the ghetto bunch. They are picked up by a series of trucks and driven outside of town. Still milling with the throng, he finds himself in an underground chamber, and takes part in a sinister ceremony led by Dr. Thoss, who he has realized or decided is an incarnation of the Egyptian god Thoth. As the ceremony continues, people keep dropping to the floor and transforming into giant worm-people. Horrified, UN flees and makes his way back home. But even there he realizes he is one of these people, and will one day return.
This was Liggotti's breakthrough, I think. It's considered an important example of Liggotti-ism and has been republished more than once.
I've noted elsewhere I'm not as besotted with Liggotti as a lot of HPL fans are. I guess you could say I find him a bit suspect. Here, as is usually the case with Liggotti, the atmosphere is terrific and, yes, very Lovecraftian, recalling both HPL's early, Poe-influenced stories (c.f. "The Festival", which may have helped inspire this) and his mature works. The sense of unease, that our narrator is about to get himself into something very, very bad is there from word one and only builds as the story wends its leisurely way along.
On the other hand, after awhile, the surrealism begins to pall. Too many unexplained oddnesses. Too much "is the world getting weird or is the narrator nuts?" business. And the revelation that people are transforming themselves into worm-people seems more silly than shocking. I often get the sense that Liggotti's pulling our legs. Especially here.
I realize writing this exactly what my prob is with Liggotti - he's Superman when it comes to atmosphere but stinks at plots and stories. Thus his tales read more like someone's transcribed and embellished nightmare than any kind of logical narrative. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it not necessarily a really good one either.
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