A Dreamer & A Visionary; H.P. Lovecraft in His Time

It should be pointed out that this separation was not—at least outwardly—anything other than an economic move; there is no real indication that any dispute or emotional crisis had occurred. Are we permitted to wonder whether Lovecraft was secretly pleased at this turn of events? Did he prefer a marriage by correspondence rather than one in person? It is time to backtrack and see what we can learn about the actual personal relations between Sonia and Lovecraft.

Sonia’s dry remark that, after typing the Houdini manuscript, they were ‘too tired and exhausted for honey-mooning or anything else’ is surely a tactful way of referring to the fact that she and Lovecraft did not have sex on their first night together. The matter of Lovecraft’s sexual conduct must inevitably be addressed, although the information we have on the subject is very sparse. We learn from R. Alain Everts, who interviewed Sonia on the matter, that: first, he was a virgin at the time he married; second, prior to his marriage he had read several books on sex; and third, he never initiated sexual relations, but would respond when Sonia did so.

²⁴

None of these, except the second, is a surprise. One wonders what books Lovecraft might have read (one hopes it was not David Van Bush’s Practical Psychology and Sex Life (1922)!—quite possibly he may have read some of James F. Morton’s writings on the subject). His Victorian upbringing—especially from a mother whose husband died under distasteful circumstances—clearly made him very inhibited as far as sex is concerned; but there is also every reason to believe that Lovecraft was simply one of those individuals who have a low sex drive, and for whom the subject is of relatively little interest. It is mere armchair psychoanalysis to say that he somehow sublimated his sex urges into writing or other activities.

Sonia herself has only two comments on the matter. ‘As a married man he was an adequately excellent lover, but refused to show his feelings in the presence of others. He shunned promiscuous association with women before his marriage.’²⁵

I do not know what an ‘adequately excellent’ lover is. The other remark is a trifle more embarrassing: ‘H. P. was inarticulate in expressions of love except to his mother and to his aunts, to whom he expressed himself quite vigorously; to all other[s] it was expressed by deep appreciation only. One way of expression of H. P.’s sentiment was to wrap his “pinkey” finger around mine and say “Umph!”’²⁶ Move over, Casanova! The note about ‘appreciation’ leads to one of the most celebrated passages in her memoir: ‘I believe he loved me as much as it was possible for a temperament like his to love. He’d never mention the word love. He would say instead “My dear, you don’t know how much I appreciate you.” I tried to understand him and was grateful for any crumbs from his lips that fell my way.’

²⁷ Again, none of this is entirely surprising given what we know about Lovecraft’s upbringing.

If Sonia could not make Lovecraft perform sexually quite as much as she would like, she could change him in other ways. First there was his diet. Although he had put on considerable weight in the 1922–23 period, Sonia nevertheless remarks:

When we were married he was tall and gaunt and ‘hungrylooking’. I happen to like the apparently ascetic type but H. P. was too much even for my taste, so I used to cook a well-balanced meal every evening, make a substantial breakfast (he loved cheese soufflé—rather an untimely dish for breakfast) and I’d leave a few (almost Dagwoodian) sandwiches for him, a piece of cake and some fruit for his lunch (he loved sweets), and I’d tell him to be sure to make some tea or coffee for himself.²⁸

Elsewhere she says: ‘Living a normal life and eating the food I provided made him take on much extra weight, which was quite becoming to him.’²⁹ She may have thought so, but Lovecraft didn’t: he would later refer to himself as a ‘porpoise’,³⁰ and indeed he ballooned to nearly 200 pounds, which is certainly overweight for someone of his general build. Another thing Sonia didn’t like about Lovecraft, aside from his lean and hungry look, was his attire.

I remember so well when I took him to a smart haberdashery how he protested at the newness of the coat and hat I persuaded him to accept and wear. He looked at himself in the mirror and protested, ‘But my dear, this is entirely too stylish for “Grandpa Theobald”; it doesn’t look like me. I look like some fashionable fop!’ To which I replied, ‘Not all men who dress fashionably are necessarily fops.’³¹

To someone in the fashion business, the conservative clothing customarily worn by Lovecraft must have been irritating indeed. Sonia adds with some tartness, ‘I really think he was glad that this coat and the new suit purchased that day were later stolen.’