There are two general caveats that should be borne in mind when studying Lovecraft’s Decadent stance: first, he clearly wished to believe that his position did not commit him entirely, or at all, to the avant-garde; and second, he had no wish to follow the Decadents in the repudiation of Victorianism on the level of personal conduct. As to the first point, let me quote in full that statement from ‘In the Editor’s Study’ of July 1923 which I cited earlier:
What is art but a matter of impressions, of pictures, emotions, and symmetrical sensations? It must have poignancy and beauty, but nothing else counts. It may or may not have coherence. If concerned with large externals or simple fancies, or produced in a simple age, it is likely to be of a clear and continuous pattern; but if concerned with individual reactions to life in a complex and analytical age, as most modern art is, it tends to break up into detached transcripts of hidden sensation and offer a loosely joined fabric which demands from the spectator a discriminating duplication of the artist’s mood.
This statement—particularly the remark about ‘life in a complex and analytical age’—is remarkably similar to T. S. Eliot’s celebrated definition and justification of modernism, as expressed in ‘The Metaphysical Poets’ (1921), especially the point that ‘poets in our civilization, as it exists at present, must be
Nothing, on the contrary, seems more certain … than that the bulk of radical prose and verse represents merely the extravagant extreme of a tendency whose truly artistic application is vastly more limited. Traces of this tendency, whereby pictorial methods are used, and words and images employed without conventional connexions to excite sensations, may be found throughout literature; especially in Keats, William Blake, and the French symbolists. This broader conception of art does not outrage any eternal tradition, but honours all creations of the past or present which can shew genuine ecstatic fire and a glamour not tawdrily founded on utterly commonplace emotions.
Lovecraft is slowly carving out a place for himself between Victorian conventionality and modernist radicalism: in this way he can continue to fulminate against such things as free verse, streamof-consciousness, or the chaoticism of Eliot and Joyce as illegitimate extensions of his Decadent principles.
The second point in this entire issue—Decadence as a mode of conduct—is clarified in Lovecraft’s discussion with Frank Long in 1923–24 about the merits of Puritanism. This discussion occasionally becomes a little frivolous, and Lovecraft seems at times to be uttering hyperbole in a deliberate attempt to tease Long. After condemning ‘Bohemians’ for their ‘wild lives’,18
he goes on to say:An intellectual Puritan is a fool—almost as much of a fool as is an anti-Puritan—but a Puritan in the conduct of life is the only kind of man one may honestly respect. I have no respect or reverence whatever for any person who does not live abstemiously and purely—I can like him and tolerate him, and admit him to be a social equal as I do Clark Ashton Smith and Mortonius and Kleiner and others like that, but in my heart I feel him to be my inferior—nearer the abysmal amoeba and the Neanderthal man—and at times cannot veil a sort of condescension and sardonic contempt for him, no matter how much my aesthetick and intellectual superior he may be.19
Of course, the various code words in this utterance (‘abstemiously’, ‘purely’) are a thin veil for restraint in sexual behaviour; the mentions of Smith and Kleiner-—both of whom were openly fond of female companionship and boasted of their conquests of various women, single or married—are also telling. Lovecraft had, therefore, sloughed off (or, in reality, never really adopted) the