Sunday, November 6, 2022

"The Secret of Sebek"

by Robert Bloch

originally published Weird Tales November 1937

Our Narrator this time is a writer - albeit it not a successful one - who's gone to New Orleans either for inspiration or partying while trying to write stories about ancient Egypt. He decides to go hang with the partyers (it being Mardi Gras time, of course), and finds himself inexplicably surprised to run into a dude dressed as an ancient Egyptian priest.  It turns out said dude knows ON's writings and immediately invites him to his place where he's giving a party - there'll be some real occultists there...

Since this is the sort of Lovecraftian character who'd be more drawn to a party with "real occultists" than "real hot and horny chicks", he of course accepts.  

Most of the partygoers are just partygoers, but the priest-dressed fellow introduces ON to his real guests, a bunch of dedicated occultists (including one Etienne De Marigny, who is also name-dropped in Lovecraft/Price's "Through the Gates of the Silver Key" and later becomes the (proud?) papa of Henri-Laurent De Marigny, who will grow up to be a full-time doormat for insufferable occult hero Titus Crow before marrying the Queen of the Forest and going off to live happily ever after in some Disneyesque paradise. Pretty good for a character who never speaks, does anything, or has any discernible personality!).  


Among the things they have to share with ON is a copy of Mysteries of the Worm, and a mummy case containing the mummy of a priest of Sebek, a nasty Egyptian crocodile god.

It seems Sebek's priests mummies were said to be guarded by monsters with the bodies of men and the heads of crocodiles, and indeed, ON has seen someone dressed in Egyptian garb and a croc mask at the party.  Said croc-masked dude now shows up and bites out the host's neck.  ON flees the scene when he realizes croc-head isn't wearing a mask.

Very minor Bloch without much HPL in it.

"The Mannikin"

by Robert Bloch

originally published Weird Tales May 1937

Our narrator is yet another head case under professional care who has a wild tale to tell us about how he got driven nutso.

It seems he's a college professor and as big fan of fishing, and went on a little trip to a lake resort near a village called Bridgetown.   There he runs into a former student - Simon Maglore - who was brilliant and rich, but also a weirdo who studied the occult and drew pictures and made sculptures of demons and witches - oh and he's a hunchback.  Needless to say, brilliant and rich he mighta been but BMOC he weren't.  Anyway, Maglore seems to be in poor health - his hump's doubled in size!  And says he's writing a monograph about (surprise!) witches.

Taking pity on poor old Simon, our narrator noses around town, discovering the Maglore family is disliked and always has been - for the usual reasons - and Simon especially so - for the obvious reasons.  He decides to drop by and suggest that Simon Lay off his witchcrafty studies for awhile.  While visiting - he thinks he sees the hump move.

Our narrator visits the local doc the next day, repeating what he's seen and Simon's crazy-ass talk about witches and familiars the night before, and the doc readily concludes that Simon should be locked up for his own good (gotta love 30's pulp fiction psychiatric practices!).  They hotfoot it over to Simon's pad only to find him dead in a pool of blood.  Which is bad.  Even worse is that he's shirtless, and that was no hump on his back - no - it's a parasitic twin!  Which has bitten old Simon to death (and therefore killed itself - stupid parasitic twin!)

Notes left behind by Simon (this is the best part!) explain that the twin had been growing since his college days and needed human blood to survive - which Simon had been providing, thus solving several local unsolved murders.  But it kept growing, and wanting more more more, and taking over poor Simon's mind.  Gak!

This is a nothing-special story, but it is highlighted by the truly hilarious excerpts from Simon's diary, in which he argues with the twin, even to the point of telling it "No! Stop! Get your hands --" thus committing the Greatest of All Lovecraftian Sins, the old "write down your dying words even as a gloop monster is devouring you bit".  

Now Bloch was known in later years for the black humor he injected into many of his tales, so its possible he meant this one to be tongue-in-cheek.  Possible.  And as much as I like Bloch and want to give him the benefit of the doubt, this one's hard to take seriously or find funny.











"The Faceless God"


by Robert Bloch

originally published Weird Tales May 1936

Dr. Stugatche (which I assume you pronounce "stew-gatch-ee") is an ugly little turd who deals in black market archaeological antiquities, and nasty little son of a bitch.  When we first meet him, he's torturing an old desert nomad in order to find out the location of an extra-rare find - a statue buried in the sand of the desert in the middle of nowhere.

Stuggy puts together an expedition and heads out to the spot, where they find the statue sticking mostly buried in the sand - a perfectly preserved, like-new ancient Egyptian statue of a god - with no facial features.  Unfortunately, Stuggy's gang sez hell no, they're not touching that thing!  Mainly cuz its a statue of Nyarlathotep, whose back story is elaborated forthwith.  Stuggy persuades them - at gunpoint.  But in the morning finds they've re-buried the statue and taken off - with all the supplies and everything.  Stuggy's left with his gun, his statue, and whatever water is left in his canteen.  Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, right?

Well, Stuggy sets off on his own in search of the nearest oasis and forcing himself to be optimistic. Things don't work out.  As he makes his way, he finds himself going in circles.  What's more, he feels like an evil presence is stalking him.  He begins to hallucinate (or does he?) visions of Nyarlathotep and of cyclopean shapes in the sand.  The sands engulf and he dies whispering the name "Nyarlathotep".

This early bit of Bloch shows him starting to move a little out of the Lovecraft imitation territory.  It's almost EC-like ... except EC comics wouldn't exist for another 16 or 17 years ... and probably owed influence to Bloch.  

Like a typical EC, it gives us a hateful central character who comes to a bad end.  The buildup is routine but turns suspenseful after the history lesson on Ny-baby, and Stuggy's nightmarish visions of a Nyarlathotep-ian apocalypse are 100% effective "cosmic" horror.  Slightly on the minor side, but with some very effective moments.