Zealia Bishop (1897–1968)

That was the end of the explorations of the mound. In the eight intervening years no one had been near the place, and few indeed had even cared to level a spy glass at it. From time to time people continued to glance nervously at the lone hill as it rose starkly from the plain against the western sky, and to shudder at the small dark speck that paraded by day and the glimmering will-o’-the-wisp that danced by night. The thing was accepted at face value as a mystery not to be probed, and by show more common consent the village shunned the subject. It was, after all, quite easy to avoid the hill; for space was unlimited in every direction, and community life always follows beaten trails. The mound side of the village was simply kept trailless, as if it had been water or swampland or desert. And it is a curious commentary on the stolidity and imaginative sterility of the human animal that the whispers with which children and strangers were warned away from the mound quickly sank once more into the flat tale of a murderous Indian ghost and his squaw victim. Only the tribesmen on the reservation, and thoughtful old-timers like Grandma Compton, remembered the overtones of unholy vistas and deep cosmic menace which clustered around the ravings of those who had come back changed and shattered.

I have read this novella before, but for this re-read I listened to the audiobook narrated by Jim Campanella.

The story concerns an academic who comes to Binger, Oklahoma to investigate an old mound and the ghosts who haunt it. He soon finds that there is something real behind the ghost storie, as the ghosts can be seen through binoculars, and although many of the people who have investigated the mound over the past 40 or so years have come back unscathed, others have disappeared completely or come back strangely changed.

I liked the way this story links into the real history of the area. The village was settled less than half a century ago, but the local Native American tribes know a lot more about what is really below the mound, and although the narrator finds a scroll dating from the time of the conquistadores, it is young compared to the ancient horrors beneath the mound. show less

Well wasn't this a pleasant little surprise. I'd never run across this story before and damned if it isn't one of Lovecraft's best. A creepy little story with some really wild ideas and imagery.

Highly recommended.

I have always been a fan of Lovecraft books. The Curse of Yig by H P Lovecraft was read as a part of #52booksin52weeks reading challenge. It was a spine chilling experience reading the book. The story gets better and better with every page. You can feel the horror and chill with every word. Although, the book was originally written by Zealia Bishop, but, Lovecraft's touch made it a classic. The book definitely deserves 5 stars.

Faites attention ! Les Atlantes ne savaient pas ces choses. J'ai parlé au Yémen avec un vieil homme qui était revenu vivant du Désert Cramoisi – il s'était prosterné devant les autels souterrains de Nug et de Yeb... La voix n'était plus qu'un murmure. Clarendon sombra dans la stupeur. Puis, aux heures sombres de la nuit, il se déchaîna. James le contint de toutes ses forces. Jamais il ne répétera ce qu'il a entendu sortir de ces lèvres gonflées. D'ailleurs, qui le croirait ? show more Au matin, Clarendon reprit conscience et parla d'une voix assurée : – Tout ce qui est ici doit disparaître. Brûlez tout : si quelque chose en réchappe, Surama répandra la mort sur toute la surface du monde. Et surtout, brûlez Surama !Ne lui permettez plus de ricaner devant les tortures de la chair mortelle. Débarrassez l'univers de sa pourriture originelle... que j'ai tirée de son sommeil séculaire... show less