This utterance is quite remarkable. To say that the ancients ‘completed the art and science of expression’ means that there is nothing left for subsequent writers to do but to imitate; and Lovecraft in fact goes on to say that ‘those modern periods have been most cultivated, in which the models of antiquity have been most faithfully followed’. What Lovecraft ignores here is that even in the eighteenth century it was the adaptation of classical models to the contemporary world that produced the most viable literature of the period. The brilliance of Johnson’s
With attitudes like these, it is not surprising that Lovecraft was, throughout the course of his amateur career, forced to defend himself against those who felt that his criticism was both too harsh and misguided. Lovecraft addresses the issue in several essays, including ‘Amateur Criticism’ (
Beginning some time in 1914 Lovecraft made an attempt to practise his educational ideal very close to home, by assisting in the formation of a Providence Amateur Press Club. The impetus for this club came from one Victor L. Basinet, who on the suggestion of Edward H. Cole (a Boston amateur journalist associated with the NAPA) formed an amateur press club amongst some working-class people in the ‘North End’ of Providence who were attending night classes at a local high school. Cole—who was very likely already in touch with Lovecraft—probably urged the group to gain assistance from the UAPA’s only Rhode Island member; and Lovecraft, thinking that this attempt to ‘uplift the masses’ might succeed better than the incident with Arthur Fredlund eight years earlier, gave considerable assistance.
Most of the members were Irish; among them was a particularly feisty young man, about a year and a half older than Lovecraft, named John T. Dunn (1889–1983). The press club set about assembling an amateur journal, the
Dunn, interviewed by L. Sprague de Camp in 1975, provides some fascinating glimpses of Lovecraft’s personal comportment at the meetings of the club:
Dunn found Lovecraft … odd or even eccentric. At gatherings, Lovecraft sat stiffly staring forward, except when he turned his head towards someone who spoke to him. He spoke in a low monotone.
‘He sat—he usually sat like that, looking straight ahead, see? Then he’d answer a question, and go back again,’ said Father Dunn. ‘I can see him now … and he looked straight ahead; and … he didn’t emphasize things. He nodded sometimes to emphasize a word or an expression.
‘I liked the fellow,’ he continued. ‘I didn’t have anything against him at all, see? Only we did disagree; but I hope we disagreed like gentlemen, see?’
…
Lovecraft’s voice was high-pitched but not what one would call shrill; Dunn said it was about like his own. Lovecraft had great self-control, never losing his temper no matter how heated the argument. ‘He—ah—I never saw him show any temper, see? But when he wrote, he wrote very vigorously; there’s no doubt about that, see …? And he never got excited like I would get excited.’2
Dunn and Lovecraft certainly did have some epistolary fireworks, especially over the Irish question. Dunn later refused to register for the draft and was imprisoned for a time, but was released after the war.
Lovecraft washed his hands of the club shortly after the appearance of the second issue, although he continued to keep in touch with Dunn for another year or so. The club itself had definitely folded by the fall of 1916. So ended Lovecraft’s second attempt to uplift the masses.