Thomas Ligotti

[Sargeant_Fox]

This reminds me of Lovecraft, who's one of those artists. The main theme of his fiction is cosmic horror, which turns out is not meant to be entertaining.

Tough luck for Howie, because I only find them entertaining. What else could I find silly stories about ancient gods to be, for Pete's sake

 

[Danny McG]

It was published before Fight Club anyway:

It was published before Fight Club anyway:

(We don't talk about it though)

 

[paeng]

Tough luck for Howie, because I only find them entertaining. What else could I find silly stories about ancient gods to be, for Pete's sake

Cosmic horror refers to the argument that there's nothing out there, and that the universe is bleak and neutral. It ties up with his views of being an atheist and natural scientist. But because that idea wouldn't sell, he had to make it entertaining, which is why he introduced things like the Elder Ones, and the manner by which human beings are nothing more than playthings.

Ligotti maintains similar views, together with anti-natalism, but didn't have to make a living by writing for pulp magazines. Hence, not much need to introduce things like a Cthulhu Mythos.

 

[Sargeant_Fox]

Cosmic horror refers to the argument that there's nothing out there, and that the universe is bleak and neutral. It ties up with his views of being an atheist and natural scientist. But because that idea wouldn't sell, he had to make it entertaining, which is why he introduced things like the Elder Ones, and the manner by which human beings are nothing more than playthings.

I know what cosmic horror refers to; and Lovecraft's views. I still find it silly entertainment; very well-written, paced and structured, and suspenseful; but not something likely to disturb me. Then again, the philosophical underpinnings don't do much for me. Lovecraft's existential dread was some centuries behind the times. I can understand Pascal's dread possibly caused by the new theories of Copernicus and Galileo: “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread.” If I were a 17c Catholic I probably would feel dread too. Since I'm not I fail to share his apprehension. I find it psychologically interesting that Lovecraft, to show how awful reality is, has to dress it up with fiction which defeats the point he's making; it's as if he were trying to convince himself rather than others.

As for Ligotti, ditto. It's like he's emotionally stunted in 1950s French existentialist dread: "There's no God, there's no point to anything, it's all meaningless, I'm so depressed." Like alright... at least he's more entertaining than Nausea and The Stranger.

 

[paeng]

I know what cosmic horror refers to; and Lovecraft's views. I still find it silly entertainment; very well-written, paced and structured, and suspenseful; but not something likely to disturb me. Then again, the philosophical underpinnings don't do much for me. Lovecraft's existential dread was some centuries behind the times. I can understand Pascal's dread possibly caused by the new theories of Copernicus and Galileo: “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread.” If I were a 17c Catholic I probably would feel dread too. Since I'm not I fail to share his apprehension. I find it psychologically interesting that Lovecraft, to show how awful reality is, has to dress it up with fiction which defeats the point he's making; it's as if he were trying to convince himself rather than others.

As for Ligotti, ditto. It's like he's emotionally stunted in 1950s French existentialist dread: "There's no God, there's no point to anything, it's all meaningless, I'm so depressed." Like alright... at least he's more entertaining than Nausea and The Stranger.

That's in reference to using the Great Old Ones, etc., which is why Lovecraft's stories were published in pulp magazines. The entertainment comes in when the protagonist manages to get out alive and live to tell his tale; from there, the viewer is fascinated by the lore of entities beyond time, similar to Sapphire and Steel and all that.

But Lovecraft's philosophical views is that of a natural scientist: in short, there's nothing out there. Obviously, he couldn't sell that type of story because pulp magazine readers want "silly entertainment" and don't want to be disturbed. In addition, he had to be wordy because writers were paid by the word.

Ligotti reveals the same, but where is the dread? The answer is: there's nothing out there. Now, you're probably an exception, and probably to the point that you fear nothing, but I think most human beings, and not just Catholics from the 17th century, are the opposite, especially given the point that in this mortal coil no protagonists gets out alive. Given such, the only things I think that would consider that "awful reality" as merely "psychologically interesting" are imaginary beings that live outside it, like the same Great Old Ones or things like androids.

 

[Sargeant_Fox]

But Lovecraft's philosophical views is that of a natural scientist: in short, there's nothing out there. Obviously, he couldn't sell that type of story because pulp magazine readers want "silly entertainment" and don't want to be disturbed. In addition, he had to be wordy because writers were paid by the word.

Ligotti reveals the same, but where is the dread? The answer is: there's nothing out there. Now, you're probably an exception,

The "philosophical view" that "there's nothing out there" indeed does not disturb me; but I don't think I'm an exception. Despite some modern-day movements to respiritualize the world, the current diagnostic is that we live in a secular, cynical, nihilistic, indifferent, blasé, uncaring, hedonistic society. Lovecraft's and Ligotti's standpoint are, to a large extent, the mainstream opinion of the majority, even if they articulate it more through deeds than words. In that sense, both authors explore old-fashioned fears that I think mean nothing to the vast majority.
I can take a wider view and appreciate that in the 1930s it was shocking for theists, still coping with Darwin and the "death of God", to entertain the notion that there's no ultimate meaning foregrounded by a deity. But I take that for granted so I never felt any anxiety about the bleak, neutral, empty, silent universe; in fact I find it pretty liberating since it means I can imbue my life with my own meaning. That means that these bleak "philosophy" bores me as much as the awful French existentialist novelists that always seem to start with the premise, "I'm so miserable because God is death and now I have to take responsibility for my actions". Like duh, no sh*t Sherlock!

So I can appreciate it from an historical pov. But I'm not beholden to what authors believe; there's a big distance between knowing authorial intent and caring about it. That means the only thing worth taking away from Lovecraft, in my humble opinion, is the "silly entertainment" you seem to be so dismissive of. I just want to appreciate fiction aesthetically.

 

[paeng]

The "philosophical view" that "there's nothing out there" indeed does not disturb me; but I don't think I'm an exception. Despite some modern-day movements to respiritualize the world, the current diagnostic is that we live in a secular, cynical, nihilistic, indifferent, blasé, uncaring, hedonistic society. Lovecraft's and Ligotti's standpoint are, to a large extent, the mainstream opinion of the majority, even if they articulate it more through deeds than words. In that sense, both authors explore old-fashioned fears that I think mean nothing to the vast majority.
I can take a wider view and appreciate that in the 1930s it was shocking for theists, still coping with Darwin and the "death of God", to entertain the notion that there's no ultimate meaning foregrounded by a deity. But I take that for granted so I never felt any anxiety about the bleak, neutral, empty, silent universe; in fact I find it pretty liberating since it means I can imbue my life with my own meaning. That means that these bleak "philosophy" bores me as much as the awful French existentialist novelists that always seem to start with the premise, "I'm so miserable because God is death and now I have to take responsibility for my actions". Like duh, no sh*t Sherlock!

So I can appreciate it from an historical pov. But I'm not beholden to what authors believe; there's a big distance between knowing authorial intent and caring about it. That means the only thing worth taking away from Lovecraft, in my humble opinion, is the "silly entertainment" you seem to be so dismissive of. I just want to appreciate fiction aesthetically.

It's not based on spirituality but on imagination, and is one of the reasons why people go into sci-fi and fantasy, which is also the main topic of this board.

Also, if it's true that the universe is bleak and neutral, then the same imagination is used to "imbue my life with my own meaning".

Because of that, I don't want to be dismissive of "silly entertainment" because people need to escape from that reality in order to remain sane. The problem is that people also aren't robots, such that they can only see things aesthetically.

 

[Sargeant_Fox]

Days ago I finished My Work is Not Yet Done. I have a feeling the title's novella was dissimilar from my fuzzy recollections of Ligotti's work. For starters he was actually interested in character. A thing I liked in In the novella "My Work is Not Yet Done" was the voice. There's nothing awfully unique about it; the protagonist, Frank Dominio, speaks in that heartless, comically cruel, deadpanish tone so well used in Lolita, A Clockwork Orange, American Psycho and which attained its most perfect form in William H. Gass' The Tunnel. As a big fan of all the aforelisted books, this made the novella very entertaining.

The novella is bipolar. The first part essentially reports a situation that could take place in realist fiction, with a burned-out employee preparing a typically American firearm mayhem. What's curious is that when the horror/supernatural elements come up, they're pretty traditional stuff. Frank Dominio essentially becomes the Old Testament god of retribution: he develops omniscient powers and can perform magic at a distance, meting out awesome punishment as if his victims were but miniatures of Sodom and Gomorrah ("dominio" is of course related to "dominion", a Biblically-charged word). It's funny to see such a god-like figure in the work of an extreme nihilist who keeps arguing there's no meaning, no grand scheme, etc.

I have this theory that the novella is really a parable about Ligotti himself. Frank works in a faceless company whose goal is to churn out the same crap faster, cheaper for a profit, indifferent to quality. It's easy to read the horror fic industry into this. Meanwhile Frank is an outsider whose new product idea at first meets resistance and then is coveted by the other supervisors. Ligotti, too, is a sort of horror maverick who despite not being very commercial has nonetheless been wildly influential, to the point there's an industry of imitators thriving on repeating his product. Finally, between finishing his string of creative revenges and receiving oblivion, Frank chooses oblivion; symbolically, this novella was practically the last thing Ligotti's published, after which he choose silence, or oblivion, refusing to give further use to the creativity he proved to still have. (I'm aware he published more books afterwards, but there's about 10 years of silence between "My Work" and The Spectral Link, a book which interestingly resulted from a health-related near-death situation he experienced circa 2012. Had this not happened, "My Work" might have been his last book).

So I liked this novella very much. The two stories that followed didn't grab me though. "The Nightmare Network" I found pedestrian, but the last sentence is fitting for a book that started the author's decade-long silence.