Shub Niggurath Cycle

Rating:
Summary: Surprisingly decent
Review: "The Shub Niggurath Cycle" is really reaching for a theme. Some of it is about goats, other parts are about fertility gods, and some just have an invocation of "Ia! Shub blah-blah-blah". Surprisingly, I saw no "dark-young" themed stories. Anyway, what I found to be good was surprising:

"The Horn of Vapula", "The Demoniac Goat", "The Ghostly Goat of Glaramara": these were pleasantly "MR James"ish ghost stories; tales from the English countryside about some or other ghostly phenomenon related by someone supposedly too educated/cultured/mature to believe in such rot. I find this sort of thing a pleasant evening read, even if it is not lovecraftian at all.

"A Thousand Young": this story by Robert Price was designed to puch the envelope on sexual contentin describing the blasphemous orgies and festivals that HPL alludes to. It does have an appropriate HPL ending. In my case, I felt that the envelope had been pushed too far and wasn't comfortable reading it.

"Grossie": As far as I can tell, this has no Mythos connection at all; it's just a darn good story. After a strange phenomenon, one member of a group talks to something no one else can see. Than she walks away and is never seen again. It's been a long while since a story made me sit up at night thinking. It's hard to say why this should be so disturbing. Here are my thoughts: you get used to the way the Mythos operates. You read the scary book, fraternize with the weird cutlists, go alone into the dark basement, you have an unhappy ending. Avoid the typical horror-scenario, and you're fine. How much scarier is it when you don't know if you're in the scenario or not? What happened to my friend, and where did she go? Why was her body never found? Could the same thing happen to me? And most of all, TO WHOM WAS SHE SPEAKING BEFORE HER DISAPPEARANCE? To those for whom less is more, this will give you chills.

All in all, not a bad anthology. Some stories are very fanzine-ish, but non are really terrible and there is a varietyu of styles and themes.

Rating:
Summary: O, THE HORROR OF IT!
Review: "The Shub-Niggurath Cycle" is a veritable morass of pedestrian plotting, derivative imagry, and tepid writing. All the defects of Lovecraft worship are painfully evident: obsessive codifying of the Mythos, cosmic pretentions, dream sequences featuring weird geometric angles, silly names, and masses of writhing tentacles. Lin Carter's execrable "Dreams in the House of Weir" and his attached doggrel are the nadir of the anthology. Of course, Carter's work always has a way of tainting anything near at hand. The book, however, is redeemed by a single tale: "Harold's Blues" by Glen Singer. Singer's story is a sly and witty Faustian redux which intermingles a fictionalized version of the murky career of real-life, real dead bluesman Robert Johnson with the Cthulu Mythos. The dialect of the narrator is excellent in terms of its understated subtlety and consistency. Singer utilizes the Mythos as it should be used -- as a murky, wicked backdrop that overpowers the actions of genuine characters with lives of their own. There is an insidious, doomed atmosphere which is far more effective than somnambulating trudges through cyclopean, extra-terrestrial ruins or "weird doings" in the dank cottages of unsuspecting professors. "Harold's Blues", then, is nothing short of a pearl in the swine slop and by its strength alone, this anthology rates four stars.

Rating:
Summary: O, THE HORROR OF IT!
Review: "The Shub-Niggurath Cycle" is a veritable morass of pedestrian plotting, derivative imagry, and tepid writing. All the defects of Lovecraft worship are painfully evident: obsessive codifying of the Mythos, cosmic pretentions, dream sequences featuring weird geometric angles, silly names, and masses of writhing tentacles. Lin Carter's execrable "Dreams in the House of Weir" and his attached doggrel are the nadir of the anthology. Of course, Carter's work always has a way of tainting anything near at hand. The book, however, is redeemed by a single tale: "Harold's Blues" by Glen Singer. Singer's story is a sly and witty Faustian redux which intermingles a fictionalized version of the murky career of real-life, real dead bluesman Robert Johnson with the Cthulu Mythos. The dialect of the narrator is excellent in terms of its understated subtlety and consistency. Singer utilizes the Mythos as it should be used -- as a murky, wicked backdrop that overpowers the actions of genuine characters with lives of their own. There is an insidious, doomed atmosphere which is far more effective than somnambulating trudges through cyclopean, extra-terrestrial ruins or "weird doings" in the dank cottages of unsuspecting professors. "Harold's Blues", then, is nothing short of a pearl in the swine slop and by its strength alone, this anthology rates four stars.

Rating:
Summary: delivers
Review: Rainey delivers good one here. campbell also has a good story. i was mostt impressed by Spence, unknown to me. the rest o the stories are not so good, but not really bad either. i really like this fertility goddess granting humanity gifts, but demanding worship and sacrifice. ok, an obvious link to paganism. but that makes it realistic. the goat is the creature from the mythos i'm having least problems imagining.

Rating:
Summary: ïa! Shub Niggurath!
Review: Shub Niggurath, the black goat of the wood with a thousand young, is mearly hinted at in H.P. Lovecraft's fiction. Mentioning little more then the name and appellation, old Shubby is shrouded in mystery. Price has compliled here some of the works which have followed Lovecraft's scant clue to define Shub Niggurath. Price includes one of his own stories, a tale sexual decadence, perversion and madness in the name of Shub Niggurath which, of itself, makes the book worth reading.