Ancient monsters being accidentally uncovered in previously unexplored places by enterprising humans (or maybe by dwarves mining too deep under certain mountains) seems like such an oft-used trope these days; I don't know prevalent it was in 1936 when Lovecraft published this story, but he did it pretty effectively.

A scientific expedition set out to penetrate Antarctica. Excited by discovery of fossilized prints in ancient rock where there should be no such thing, most of the team travels out farther into the central icy wastes of the continent in pursuit of more samples. They come up to a massive mountain range riddled by caverns and caves, and find numerous bodies belonging to an ancient race of complexly evolved beings that predate humanity by millions of years. These intrepid explorers meet a bad end.

In an attempt to learn more about what happened, two men from the rest of the expedition take one of the team's early planes and fly over the range to the other side, where they make horrifying discoveries that confirm ancient and terrible "myths" of elder beings and hidden evil. A vastly sprawling and long abandoned city of bizarrely shaped stone buildings is revealed and explored, the history of the place and the beings that lived there conveniently carved along the maze of walls and deciphered. If one can get over the high improbability of these men learning as much as they do from these carvings, which I did find detracting from my enjoyment of the story, the rising tension and ultimate horror at the end (with a twist) is pretty fun.

There's another aspect of Lovecraft's writing, similar to George R.R. Martin if you've read that rather more current popular fantasy, that annoys during a cracking good story: the frequent repetition of certain words to the point that it can jar you out of the flow. If the reader took a shot every time he came upon the word "aeon", or "decadent", he'd get well plastered.

This edition contains an interesting introduction by China Mieville that puts some of the themes of this story in the context of Lovecraft's obscene racial politics of elitism and inferiority, explaining how this obsession with "decadence", for instance, came from Lovecraft's adoption of the thesis found in the German philosopher Oswald Spengler's book The Decline of the West, regarding the cyclical patterns of civilization's rise and fall.

Finally, I'm grateful to this book for giving me the delightful phrase "cosmic octopi", which joins "techno squid" in my list of Unexpected Adjectives Found Applied to Cephalopods.

It is absolutely necessary, for the peace and safety of mankind, that some of earth's dark, dead corners and unplumbed depths be let alone; lest sleeping abnormalities wake to resurgent life, and blasphemously surviving nightmares squirm and splash out of their black lairs to newer and wider conquests.

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Could have been much better. Dull repetition and mostly a build up to disappointment. I really want to like Lovecraft for his ideas, but his writing just puts me to sleep. ( )

A bit dry and technical at times. For being less than 100 pages, it was a bit of a slog to get through in the beginning. The end was great though. Lovecraft is a master of setting up a sense of impending doom, and existential dread, and I'm definitely planning on checking out more of his work. Maybe this wasn't the best one to start with. ( )

Undoubtedly the best of his writings: well-paced and entreating all sorts of speculations. Its only categorical flaw is his overuse of ‘decadence’ to hammer in his theme of civilisational decline. ( )

“In the whole spectacle there was a persistent, pervasive hint of stupendous secrecy and potential revelation; as if these stark, nightmare spires marked the pylons of a frightful gateway into forbidden spheres of dream, and complex gulfs of remote time, space, and ultra-dimensionality. I could not help feeling that they were evil things – mountains of madness whose farther slopes looked out over some accursed ultimate abyss.”

In this combination of science fiction and supernatural horror published in 1936, a scientist documents a tragic expedition to Antarctica as a warning to other explorers to stay away. The leader of the expedition and his team discover the remains of previously unknown creatures, and they radio back to base. The two scientists left at base head off to assist with the analysis, only to stumble upon a horrible and gruesome sight.

This is the type of book that can easily be spoiled so I will not go into any depth about the plot. The reader needs to know it is not an edge-of-the-seat horror story. It is, rather, a first-hand narration after-the-fact by a scientist. He narrates it in a detached manner, like a scientist would be prone to do – stating facts and recounting what he saw, heard, smelled, and felt.

I particularly enjoyed the way Lovecraft portrays the opposing forces of human inquisitiveness and self-preservation. The explorers know they are in dangerous territory and have plenty of evidence to flee, but they are drawn forward by their curiosity. This method provides dramatic tension that keeps the reader fully engaged. It is atmospheric, eerie, creative, and well-written.

At almost 200 pages, my edition included both the title story and Lovecraft’s essay, “Supernatural Horror in Literature,” which is full of observations about the history, appeal, and writing of these types of stories. He analyzes a vast variety of works in the genre. “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”
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