Dagon

Hybrid literature is a tough sell, especially when one of the component genres has a following as finicky as the fans of H.P. Lovecraft. While some readers are content to read the same scenarios over and over, others might want something more. If you are a fan of the Cthulhu mythos, I urge you to give this book a shot, despite the negative reviews on this page. If you are unfamiliar with H.P. Lovecraft, be glad to take this book on its own rewarding terms. Both deeply disturbing and compelling, DAGON is full of images and hints of sensation that linger in the subconscious long after reading. Chappell phrases the most mundane details in the most interesting ways so that you are forced to pay attention and consider what he is describing. These details collect like drops of water, until the atmosphere is so thick with dread and oppression that it is almost unbearable, so that even after you finish the book the feeling of unease remains inescapable. It's a subtle, short read that quietly builds to it's inevitable climax and bizarre coda. The story is on its surface simple, but the way in which it is told is a major achievement.

This is a book that takes the familiar Lovecraftian, or maybe Derlethian, scenario--a young man inherits a house, is taken over by the spirit of the place and is destroyed by obsession--and explores it with deep psychological realism. The effect is uncanny: It's almost as if the cardboard characters of the Lovecraft stories (which, don't get me wrong, I love) have come to life. In order to sustain the realistic tone, the supernatural elements all happen offstage--but if you've ever wondered what it would really be like to be enslaved by a priestess of the Elder Gods, this book is for you. This edition is out of print, but the novel is reprinted in full in The Fred Chappell Reader, which is in print. I have to wonder what fans of Chappell, who is mostly a writer of Southern Literature, make of a novel whose first words are "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."