Originalmente publicado em 17 de dezembro de 2013
Conto de 1926, extremamente freudiano, como se verificará!
Lovecraft é um sujeito bastante versado!
Antropólogos norte-americanos são tão engraçados! Nada têm a ver com nossa formação…
Monstro que acorda nos sonhos das vítimas…
Um vodu mais antigo e sinistro que qualquer vodu africano.
Sinto forte inspiração do Metallica, mesmo em álbuns posteriores. “Great Old One”, entre outros exemplos que eu poderia elencar.
“until the time when the great priest Cthulhu, from his dark house in the mighty city of R’lyeh under the waters, should rise and bring the earth again beneath his sway. Some day he would call, when the stars were ready, and the secret cult would always be waiting to liberate him.” Com efeito, a aparência de nosso “amigo” é a de um polvo assustador.
O homem é pequeno e irrelevante diante das forças aqui em questão.
“free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.”
“No book had ever really hinted of it, though the deathless Chinamen said that there were double meanings in the Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred which the initiated might read as they chose, especially the much-discussed couplet:
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”
“In a short time I became convinced of his absolute sincerity, for he spoke of the dreams in a manner none could mistake.” O tipo de convicção que às vezes mata.
“O felt deeply moved despite my rational beliefs.” A luta entre o espírito científico de um homem egresso do séc. XIX e as superstições emergentes.
“My atitude was still one of absolute materialism, as I wish it still were, and I discounted with almost inexplicable perversity the coincidence of the dream notes and odd cuttings collected by Professor Angell.” Um workaholic típico, que sacrifica todo o resto em prol do trabalho, até matar a própria racionalidade. A começar por ser esta missão um karma hereditário herdado do tio-primo.
“He said that the geometry of the dream-place he saw was abnormal, non-Euclidian, and loathsomely redolent of spheres and dimensions apart from ours. Now an unlettered seaman felt the same thing whilst gazing at the terrible reality.”
“The Thing cannot be described—there is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked or stumbled. God! What wonder that across the earth a great architect went mad, and poor Wilcox raved with fever in that telepathic instant?”
Um pouco de LOST, também, devido aos templos anti-euclidianos, à Fumaça e outros detalhes.
“what an age-old cult had failed to do by design, a band of innocent sailors had done by accident. After vigintillions of years great Cthulhu was loose again, and ravening for delight.”
“I have looked upon all that the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and the flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me. But I do think my life will be long. As my uncle went, as poor Johansen went, so I shall go. I know too much, and the cult still lives.”
“Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise.”
