Many landmarks described in the story are manifestly based upon actual sites. The view from Blake’s study is a poignant description of what HPL saw from his own study at 66 College Street. The same view can be seen today from such a vantage point as Prospect Terrace on the brow of College Hill. Blake’s address, as given in the story, was Bloch’s actual address in Milwaukee. The church that figures so prominently in the tale was St. John’s Catholic Church on Atwell’s Avenue in Federal Hill (torn down in 1992). This church was situated on a raised plot of ground, as in the story, although there was (at least in recent years) no metal fence around it. It was, in HPL’s day, the principal Catholic
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church in the area. The description of the interior and belfry of the church is quite accurate. HPL heard that the steeple had been destroyed by lightning in late June of 1935 (he was not there at the time, being in Florida visiting R.H. Barlow); instead of rebuilding the steeple, the church authorities simply put a cap on the brick tower (see HPL to Richard F.Searight, December 24, 1935;
See Steven J.Mariconda, “Some Antecedents of the Shining Trapezohedron,”
Hawthorne, Nathaniel (1804–1864).
American novelist and short story writer. Hawthorne was a central figure in early Gothic literature in America and a major influence on HPL, who at the age of six first developed a fascination with Graeco-Roman mythology by reading Hawthorne’s rewritings of Greek myths,
See Dirk W.Mosig, “Poe, Hawthorne and Lovecraft: Variations on a Theme of Panic,”
Hayden, Ben.
In “The Man of Stone,” a friend of the narrator who takes the narrator with him to investigate the uncannily lifelike sculptures of Arthur Wheeler.
“He.”
Short story (4,310 words); written on August 11, 1925. First published in
The narrator ruefully announces: “My coming to New York had been a mistake….” He had hoped to find literary inspiration in the “teeming labyrinths“ of the city, but instead finds only “a sense of horror and oppression which threatened to master, paralyse, and annihilate me.” The narrator confesses that the gleaming towers of New York had captivated him at first, but later he came to realize that “this city of stone and stridor is not a sentient perpetuation of Old New York as London is of Old London and Paris of Old Paris, but that it is in fact quite dead, its sprawling body imperfectly embalmed and infested with queer animate things which have nothing to do with it as it was in life.” He seeks out Greenwich Village
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