CTHULHU CYMRAEG: THE NIGHT COUNTRY - Lovecraftian Tales from Wales (Crossroad Press 2026)

 

'The Old Gods are dead - the Older Gods have returned!'

As straplines go, that's pretty good. I was not aware of the Cthulhu Cymraeg series until I was asked if I would like a review copy (in ebook form). The presence of several familiar names won me over. I am normally wary of homages to the Mythos because they often stray into dull pastiche. That, or they offer conventional supernatural horror with grimoires and pentacles while invoking the Necronomicon at some point as window dressing.

Fortunately, that's not what we have here. All of the authors are clearly aware that Lovecraft created a broad church within his original subgenre. It's a weird, ramshackle church with some bizarre geometry, but that's only to be expected. 

And what - we inevitably ask - does Lovecratian mean anyway? I looked it up and found answers ranging from 'cosmic', which obviously doesn't apply to many of his stories, and 'eldritch', which is nice and roomy. Horror, fantasy, or sci-fi derived from the unknowable is nearer the mark. Perhaps it's better not to ask, but adopt an intuitive or 'felt' approach. 

In 'God of the Green' Paul Lewis delivers a strong, persuasive account of the survival of a strange quasi-nature cult in a tiny village on the Welsh Borders. A woman returns home upon the death of her mother to find a supportive community, but also a lot of vials of blood in the fridge. The plot develops smoothly and is somewhat reminiscent of Nigel Kneale in its juxtaposition of the everyday and the subtly strange. The denouement, which I won't spoil here, is satisfying.

'The Last Days of Don Juan Jenkins' by J.L. George is a superb tale that old Howie would have intensely disliked. First off, gay lovers. And one of them is Welsh. It's that transgressive. It's also a superbly written tale of a chance encounter between a librarian and a mysterious, handsome stranger that leads to some classic horror situations. Here we have the ancient(ish) manuscript, a strange odyssey across unfamiliar territory, and a bizarre transformation. But George makes it new and interesting. This one sets the bar very high. Fans can argue about how Lovecraftian it is. I think the payoff is solid.

C.M. Saunders' 'Strzyga' finds us back in Blighty - in Powys, in fact. A security guard on the night watch in a warehouse has a problem with a crate. Something inside seems to want to claw its way out. This is a fun story, marginally Lovecraftian, with plenty of action and a good central idea. To me it read the outline of a good short horror film, with a creature set free in a gloomy, enclosed space and a hapless Everyman engaged in an unexpected and uneven battle for survival. 

Charles Wilkinson contributed twice to this anthology. His first story, 'The Madness of T.S. Vargiven', is an impressive take on the mad scientist trope. A native of a small Welsh community returns to find the place under the heel of a weird cult-like organisation that has taken over the council. Darkness is rigorously enforced - no street lights, blackout conditions on residents, and nobody ventures out at certain times. Why? It all has to do with a mysterious, ziggurat-like structure on the hill, and its brilliant, obsessive resident. Beautifully written as always, this one blindsided me with its deft handling of a pulpy premise. 

John Llewellyn Probert offers a different take on the whole mad science thing in 'For I Have Seen the Darkness Moving'. A doctor is invited to visit an old college friend in a defunct rural hotel. This one channels Lovecraft's 'From Beyond', to some extent. At first, it's all good fun, tinkering with 'vibrations' - well, they were medical students together. But then things escalate as it becomes clear that tinkering with other realities is fraught with peril. The approach is very different from Wilkinson's, but the mayhem is just as engaging.

Mark Howard Jones, editor of CC:TNC also contributes a story. 'Mad Gods and Englishman' is set during the Great War. Something is stirring in No Man's Land, and it's not the bally Hun. This is a detailed and absorbing account of Welsh soldiers on the Western Front, with an implicit conspiracy among the upper classes to conceal - or perhaps placate - beings lurking within a strange mist. 

Finally, Charles Wilkinson returns with 'The Men, Running'. A man buys an old bardic chair that seems to be haunted in a very peculiar fashion. Who are the men running? And what can account for the strange fate of anyone who sits in the chair? I thought at first that this one was not at all Lovecraftian, but on reflection, I'm not so sure as it does involve the possession of a modern man by a long-dead sorcerer. 

Overall, this is a good collection of weird tales that shun pastiche and Mythos trappings in favour of genuine creativity. Lovecraftian fan fiction easy to crank out. But here, a group of thoughtful authors pays homage not through imitation of style or substance, but in weirdness. A sense of strange events spiralling out of control for an isolated, sensitive individual is central to Lovecraft's best stories. It is also key to the best tales here.