At the Mountains of Madness, HP Lovecraft

I picked up At the Mountains of Madness after reading somewhere that it was the chilling account of a geologist’s Antarctic expedition.​

Lovecraft had me at geologist.​

As a kid, I'd sometimes accompany my geologist father on his field trips. He would teach me how to identify different kinds of rocks and soils. I'd also learnt how to read a topographic map fairly early. I would longingly gaze at the contour lines and trace my fingertips around the wildly undulating landscape.

The adventurer spirit was strong in me and I loved to explore the woods on the outskirts of our little town. I'd grab a friend or a cousin and a local topographic map, and we'd be off on our bicycles into the hilly wilderness. Oh, the things we've seen! Nests of porcupines, dens of hyaenas, ancient & extinct waterfalls, strange graves, esoteric activity, tribes greeting us with bows and arrows . . .​

So, yeah, I picked up this book thinking I'd something of a headstart into the mountains of madness, but nothing could have prepared me for this.​

It is the 1930s. A decade or so after Amundsen's pathbreaking polar exploits. Professor William Dyer, geologist of Miskatonic University, is leading a fresh, far-reaching Antarctic expedition. He has carefully assembled a team of scientists and experts for the conditions, and they're equipped with the latest technology.​

Dyer's team begins preliminary drilling and soon discovers unusual fossil markings and fragments. This especially puzzles Lake, the biologist, who decides to follow the fossil trail and sets up a sub-expedition 300 miles away from the main base. It turns out that those fossil markings were only the tip of the iceberg, as they soon discover fossilised remnants of creatures hitherto unknown to humankind. There's a frantic exchange of bulletins between the camps, as they try to make sense of these findings that might turn all science on its head. But before they can do anything, Lake's bulletins come to a sudden end following a harsh spell of blizzards.

Fearing the worst, Dyer and his assistant, Danforth, rush to Lake's camp, only to find a most horrifying spectacle waiting for them. Their findings only become increasingly peculiar, as they realise that they have stumbled upon the ruins of a lost civilisation that could be at least million of years old. There are signs that ancient beings once inhabited this dead valley. They had a vibrant culture and a penchant for art and architecture.
But what happened to them? What happened to this place?

Dyer and Danforth have started digging for clues among the ruins. This alien playground might have all the answers they want, but are they ready?

HP Lovecraft was something of a fossil himself. He remained practically unknown during his own lifetime. His body of work was unearthed only decades later, and went on to massively inspire generations of sci-fi and horror writers like Stephen King and Neil Gaiman, comic book writers like Alan Moore and Mike Mignola, manga artists like Junji Ito, and film-makers like Guillermo del Toro.

Stephen King calls Lovecraft the "horror story’s dark and baroque prince."

I can see why.

Lovecraft's prose is marked by meticulous attention to scientific detail. He becomes the geologist describing the terrifying terrain. He becomes the biologist marvelling at the unusual flora and fauna. The scientific precision and detailing is practically manna for sci-fi nerds. The flip side is that some readers might sleepwalk through the detailed description of the alien landscape. The book is only 120 pages long, but I feel that it could have been 20 pages lighter. However, this bare bone scientific style lends an authentic feel to the story, and I wouldn't hesitate in calling Lovecraft a genius in prose style. The gobbledygook only serves to make the horror more believable.

I would suggest that you stay patient with Lovecraft. Absorb as much of the alien landscape that you can.

And keep an eye out.