Horror and decadence : A review of "The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

Horror and Decadence

A review of "The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

I cannot forget Carcosa where black stars hang in the heavens; where the shadows of men’s thoughts lengthen in the afternoon...

The term "weird fiction" could have been coined to describe “The King in Yellow”. First published in 1895, and reissued in a deluxe "gift edition” by Pushkin Press, it features elements of horror and the supernatural and even a touch of science fiction and yet fits uncomfortably under any of these categories. It is frankly, just plain “weird”. 

The book consists of four short stories which are linked by some common characters and, more importantly, by a recurring leitmotiv, a mysterious play called “The King in Yellow”. This play is, purportedly, a work of such evil genius that whoever reads its second act descends into madness and despair. Chambers uses a technique which would later greatly inspire H.P. Lovecraft (he applies it to great effect in his Cthulhu stories) – we are never actually told what the play is all about, the narrators in each story merely make vague references to its contents, leaving us to surmise what evil horrors this banned work might hold within its pages. 

The first story – “The Repairer of Reputations” – is set (like the fourth) in an imagined future America of the 1920s and sets the macabre tone of the work. It is narrated by a young man just out of a mental institution, who has delusions about ruling America in allegiance with the powerful “King in Yellow”. This story recalls Poe in its portrayal of obsession and madness, leading to a bloody denouement. The second tale, "The Mask", is a sort of “Pygmalion” in reverse. Set in France, it tells of a sculptor who discovers a chemical solution which can turn live beings into statues. This story introduces a new ingredient to the mix – the bohemian milieu beloved of fin-de-siecle, decadent literature. It is not uncommon in such works to encounter a fascination with the Catholic faith, or at least, its cultural trappings. This is the case with “In the Court of the Dragon”, in which the protagonist seems to be pursued by a demonic church organist. This sinister predator is likely just a tired musician escaping to the loo during a longish sermon, but to the narrator, fresh from reading that abominable play, he comes across as a malign figure sent by the King in Yellow to claim his soul. “The Yellow Sign” takes us back to 1920s America, but we are again in a world of artists and their models. There is also the presence of a Catholic church, such that at first, the atmosphere is not far removed from that of the previous story. This time round, however, the haunting is not done by an organist but by a “worm-like” churchyard watchman who, it seems, is possessed by the King in Yellow and is after the Yellow Sign, a curious gold clasp found by the narrator’s model.

Chambers’ short story collection originally contained six other stories, but it is only the first four which are linked by the “King of Yellow” theme. So it makes sense for this edition to be limited to these four tales which, partly thanks to Lovecraft, have achieved cult status amongst lovers of weird fiction.

Cover of the first 1895 edition

Hardcover, 160 pages

Published October 26th 2017 by Pushkin Press

Although Chambers was an American author who lived and worked in New York, in his youth – precisely between 1886 and 1903 – he had studied art in Paris, which might explain why his weird tales seem to breathe a decadent French air.  That curious mix of horror and sentimentality, fixation with Catholic motifs alongside a penchant for esoterism, has the slightly overpowering fragrance of fin-de-siecle Paris.  When one thinks of France and decadent literature, one of the first composers who come to mind is Debussy, with his settings of Baudelaire and Verlaine, and his languourous works inspired by Mourey (Syrinx) and Mallarmé (Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune).    

Less known are his unfinished attempts at operas based on Edgar Allan Poe – The Devil in the Belfry and The Fall of the House of Usher.  Of the latter, all that remains is an incomplete libretto and piano sketches for some of the scenes.   What Debussy could have made of Poe’s masterpiece is an intriguing question.

André Caplet (1878 – 1925) is best known for his orchestrations of piano works by Debussy.  He was also a composer in his own right, especially of vocal and choral music. His Mass for 3 voices has the type of French sentimentality would would have been familiar to the demon organist of In the Court of the Dragon.  Caplet was also a fan of Poe, composing two works inspired by The Masque of the Red Death.  Here’s Conte Fantastique, for harp and string quartet:

If esoterism is your cup of tea, some of the works of Erik Satie (1866 – 1925) can strike a chord, even though his ventures into the otherworldly should be taken with a generous pinch of salt.  By 1891, Satie was the official composer and “chapel-master” of the Rosicrucian "Ordre de la Rose-Croix Catholique, du Temple et du Graal".  This led to “ritual” compositions such as Sonneries de la Rose+Croix. These rythmically fluid, chant-like piano pieces can, with hindsight be considered ground-breaking avant-garde works.

Zoom forward to 21st Century America, and a work based directly by Chambers’ The King in Yellow. Melody Eötvös (born 1984) is an Australian-born composer now based in the US, some of whose compositions are inspired by literature of the dark sort by the likes of Neil Gaiman and James De Mille.  “The King in Yellow : Three pieces for Six Instruments” won the Soundstream Collective National Young Composers Award.

Melody Eötvös has now written a follow-up in the shape of an opera:

For a more filmic experience a hugely enjoyable track by Graham Plowman which would work brilliantly as a soundtrack to an imagined horror movie...