“The Thing in the Moonlight” is based on a letter that Lovecraft wrote to Donald
Wandrei on 24 November 1927. The story surrounding Lovecraft’s description of his dream was
written by J. Chapman Miske and published in the January 1941 issue of Bizarre.
Letter to Donald Wandrei
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“The Thing in the Moonlight”
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My dreams occasionally
approach’d the phantastical in character, tho’ falling somewhat short of
coherence. One scene is especially stamp’d upon my recollection—that of a
dank, fœtid, reed-choak’d marsh under a grey autumn sky, with a rugged cliff
of lichen-crusted stone rising to the north. Impell’d by some obscure quest, I
ascended a rift or cleft in this beetling precipice, noting as I did so the black mouths
of many fearsome burrows extending from both walls into the depths of the stony
plateau. |
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Morgan is not a literary man; in fact he cannot
speak English with any degree of coherency. That is what makes me wonder about the words
he wrote, though others have laughed.
He was alone the evening it happened. Suddenly an unconquerable urge to
write came over him, and taking pen in hand he wrote the following:
My name is Howard Phillips. I live at 66 College Street, in Providence,
Rhode Island. On November 24, 1927—for I know not even what the year may be
now—, I fell asleep and dreamed, since when I have been unable to awaken.
My dream began in a dank, reed-choked marsh that lay under a gray autumn
sky, with a rugged cliff of lichen-crusted stone rising to the north. Impelled by some
obscure quest, I ascended a rift or cleft in this beetling precipice, noting as I did so
the black mouths of many fearsome burrows extending from both walls into the depths of the
stony plateau. |
At several points the passage was roof’d
over by the choaking of the upper parts of the narrow fissure; these places being
exceedingly dark, & forbidding the perception of such burrows as may have existed
there. In one such dark space I felt conscious of a singular accession of fright, as if
some subtile & bodiless emanation from the abyss were ingulphing my spirit; but the
blackness was too great for me to perceive the source of my alarm. |
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At several points the passage
was roofed over by the choking of the upper parts of the narrow fissure; these places
being exceeding dark, and forbidding the perception of such burrows as may have existed
there. In one such dark space I felt conscious of a singular accession of fright, as if
some subtle and bodiless emanation from the abyss were engulfing my spirit; but the
blackness was too great for me to perceive the source of my alarm. |
At length I emerg’d upon a table-land of
moss-grown rock & scanty soil, lit up by a faint moonlight which had replac’d
the expiring orb of day. Casting my eyes about, I beheld no living object; but was
sensible of a very peculiar stirring far below me, amongst the whispering rushes of the
pestilential swamp I had lately quitted. |
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At length I emerged upon a
tableland of moss-grown rock and scanty soil, lit by a faint moonlight which had replaced
the expiring orb of day. Casting my eyes about, I beheld no living object; but was
sensible of a very peculiar stirring far below me, amongst the whispering rushes of the
pestilential swamp I had lately quitted. |
After walking for some distance, I
encounter’d the rusty tracks of a street-railway, & the worm-eaten poles which
still held the limp & sagging trolley wire. Following this line, I soon came upon a
yellow, vestibuled car numbered 1852—of a plain, double-trucked type common from
1900 to 1910. It was untenanted, but evidently ready to start; the trolley being on the
wire & the air-brake pump now and then throbbing beneath the floor. I boarded it &
looked vainly about for the light switch—noting as I did so the absence of
controller handle which implied the brief absence of the motorman. Then I sat down in one
of the cross seats toward the middle, awaiting the arrival of the crew & the starting
of the vehicle. Presently I heard a swishing in the sparce grass toward the left, &
saw the dark forms of two men looming up in the moonlight. They had the regulation caps of
a railway company, & I could not doubt but that they were the conductor &
motorman. Then one of them sniffed with singular sharpness, & raised his face
to howl to the moon. The other dropped on all fours to run toward the car. |
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After walking for some distance,
I encountered the rusty tracks of a street railway, and the worm-eaten poles which still
held the limp and sagging trolley wire. Following this line, I soon came upon a yellow,
vestibuled car numbered 1852—of a plain, double-trucked type common from 1900 to
1910. It was untenanted, but evidently ready to start; the trolley being on the wire and
the air-brake now and then throbbing beneath the floor. I boarded it and looked vainly
about for the light switch—noting as I did so the absence of the controller handle,
which thus implied the brief absence of the motorman. Then I sat down in one of the cross
seats of the vehicle. Presently I heard a swishing in the sparse grass toward the left,
and saw the dark forms of two men looming up in the moonlight. They had the regulation
caps of a railway company, and I could not doubt but that they were conductor and
motorman. Then one of them sniffed with singular sharpness, and raised his face to
howl to the moon. The other dropped on all fours to run toward the car. |
I leaped up at once & raced madly out of that
car & away across endless leagues of plateau till exhaustion waked me—doing this
not because the conductor had dropped on all fours, but because the face of the motorman
was a mere white cone tapering to one blood-red tentacle. . . . |
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I leaped up at once and raced
madly out of that car and across endless leagues of plateau till exhaustion forced me to
stop—doing this not because the conductor had dropped on all fours, but because the
face of the motorman was a mere white cone tapering to one
blood-red-tentacle. . . . |
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I was aware that I only dreamed,
but the very awareness was not pleasant. |
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Since that fearful night, I have
prayed only for awakening—it has not come! |
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Instead I have found myself an
inhabitant of this terrible dream-world! That first night gave way to dawn, and I
wandered aimlessly over the lonely swamp-lands. When night came, I still wandered, hoping
for awakening. But suddenly I parted the weeds and saw before me the ancient railway
car—and to one side a cone-faced thing lifted its head and in the streaming
moonlight howled strangely! |
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It has been the same each day.
Night takes me always to that place of horror. I have tried not moving, with the coming of
nightfall, but I must walk in my slumber, for always I awaken with the thing of dread
howling before me in the pale moonlight, and I turn and flee madly. |
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God! when will I
awaken? |
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That is what Morgan wrote. I
would go to 66 College Street in Providence, but I fear for what I might find
there. |
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