
I posed this question on a message board yesterday:
Was HPL a racist or was he just a man of his times, his fiction just an expression of the general xenophobia present around him and within him?
Or does it matter, even if he was? i.e is it relevant at all - when considering fiction or art - what the writer or artist actually believed in real life?
Has anyone read HPL's letters to Reinhardt Kleiner? These express extreme racist views.
Someone replied:
The more you find out about his life, the more you realize he was a nervous mass of contradictions, a walking labyrinth of irrational fears and sublime wonders. And ya know what, that's probably why we enjoy his works today. His stories are just like him: flawed, yes (aren't we all?), but still wildly complex and highly fascinating. His stories are pretty much about groping around in the dark, trying to make sense out of things -- and ultimately, that's the human condition. In that regard, he hit the nail on the head.
That's the best take on the HPL conundrum, in my view.
And that goes for all mankind's frailties in a sense; frailties that are kept in check by laws and by one's own views of others' views about oneself. Our life is 'Lost' and beset by Others, but through 'art' (the Synchronised Shards of Random Truth & Fiction) hopefully redeemable.
As many know, I'm a great believer in the 'Intentional Fallacy' in 'art' (which includes fiction). Hence, 'Nemonymous'.
Let's hope 'art' will make us love each other, at least for a while, whoever and whatever we are.
I think we all know within ourselves who we are and who we are not (most of
the time, that is, assuming we can be objective about our own inner
feelings). We judge ourselves. We stand up for what we believe to be right
(even if that 'right' may be different from someone else's 'right').
Here is my story about HPL from 'Crypt of Cthuhlu' 1991 (Inside The Bud):
http://weirdmonger.livejournal.com/2007/11/12/