In my continuing attempts to scare up some Christmas cheer around the nerd farm, I decided to turn to HP Lovecraft for inspiration…
Aahh! I feel more Christmassy already. Also a bit less in control of my mental faculties… But hey! What’s a few sanity points between friends?
Let’s have another! Perhaps something a bit more modern, and less… melancholy.
Heh. Okay, so those songs aren’t actually from HP Lovecraft himself, but rather the HP Lovecraft Historical Society, from their two discs of Lovecraftian Christmas carols (which are pretty excellent all the way through).
But you might be surprised to know that Lovecraft himself absolutely adored Christmas, to the point that he sent cheerful holiday poems out to his many pen pals every year. Some of them were odes to the holiday in general:Christmas The cottage hearth beams warm and bright,
The candles gaily glow;
The stars emit a kinder light
Above the drifted snow.Down from the sky a magic steals
To glad the passing year,
And belfries sing with joyous peals,
For Christmastide is here!
Others were personalized Christmas greetings to friends and loved ones. Like this one, addressed to his wife:Christmas Greetings to Sonia H Greene Once more the ancient feast returns, And the bright hearth domestic burns With Yuletide’s added blaze; So, too, may all your joys increase Midst floods of mem’ry, love, and peace, And dreams of Halcyon days.
Seems a bit… impersonal to send to your spouse, doesn’t it? Of course, I don’t know if this was done before, during, or after their courtship and marriage, and that would make a big difference. Regardless, there had to be a reason the marriage didn’t work out, I suppose…
I’ll leave you with my favorite of Lovecraft’s personalized Christmas poems. Not because I think it’s particularly good, but because it was written to Frank Belknap Long’s cat:Christmas Greetings to Felis Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes Hold the secrets of the skies, As thou ripplest in thy grace, Round the chairs and chimney-place, Scorn on thy patrician face: Hiss not harsh, nor use thy claws On the hand that gives applause— Good-will only doth abide In these lines at Christmastide!