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The Fungal Stain and other dreams
by WM Pugmire
( Hippocampus Press, 2006; 179 pages; $15.00; 0-9771734-3-7.)
Review by William P Simmons
 There
is no doubting the influence that H.P. Lovecraft exerted over macabre
fiction. Nor may his stylistic ingenuity be doubted, capturing as it
did the nihilistic mystery and opulence of an unknowable universe. Combining
symbols of archetypal supernatural terror with materialistic concerns
and a cynical intellect, Lovecraft sought escape from, and a better
understanding of, the natural world through the interpretive lens of
Fantasy. W.M. Pugmire shares this preoccupation, refuting scientifically
held laws and holding them up against the reflective mirror of art.
Despite his obvious (freely admitted) indebtedness to Pulp Fiction (or
perhaps because of this) Pugmire is a fringe artist, seeking
neither commercial success nor critical acceptance but an intimate escape
from the mundane world. He achieves this admirably, with emotional intensity
and a palate of wide-ranging ideas, using Lovecraft's ideals and imagery,
subjects and fictional decorations (tomes, objects, etc) as a starting
point from which he ascends to strange terrors wholly his own. The results
of these travels through strange eons -- journeys inwards as well as
through time, space, and cultural myth -- are captured in The Fungal
Stain and Other Dreams, his newest collection.
While several writers have found inspiration in Lovecraft's fiction,
resulting in an influx of stories written in 'homage' of his work, many
of these pastiches lack originality and aesthetic power. Only a few
of these authors have managed to find their own voice. Bloch, Leiber,
and Wandrei all reached vistas of mystery and awe, terror and beauty,
independent of their mentor. Add to this list Mr. Pugmire, who evokes
a primal sense of awe comparable to Lovecraft without resorting to outright
mimicry. Rather than toil within pre-established characters or conventions
already established by the grand old man of Providence, Pugmire establishes
his own voice and style -- albeit in Lovecraft's shadow (a place, I
think, he is delighted to occupy). Reaching depths of terror and beauty
in prose as poetic as it is concise, Pugmire has found that combination
of psychological precision and mannered discipline that lent such believability
and wonder to Lovecraft's fiction. This is most evident in "An
Eidolon of Nothing," wherein hoary dimensions of time and sorcery
are anchored by all-too-real human desires, and further emphasized in
the vignettes "Hour of the Their Appetite," "The Sign
that Sets the Darkness Free," and "Jigsaw Boy." These
explosions of dark wonder are as emotionally powerful as they are brief,
testifying to Pugmire's ability to vivisect our interpretation of the
cosmos in a matter of few paragraphs. Several of the author's icy prose
poems display the author's understanding that fear and awe are close
cousins, handmaids to the same primal impulses. Each of these emotionally
draining nightmares combines the universal paranoia of Lovecraft with
the emotional overflow of a Romantic writer, all leading to his love
affair with decaying splendor. At the same time, "The Fungal Stain"
and "His Splintered Kiss" resonate with a lyrical delight
in morbidity comparable to the Decadent school of the "Yellow Nineties."
While several of Lovecraft's thematic obsessions and tropes are made
use of in this collection, they are baptized by Pugmire's personality.
In short, Pugmire may be considered a practitioner of the Cthulhu tradition
but he inspires dread through his own unique manipulation of said conventions,
allowing inspiration and an organic sense of discovery to lead him.
Including a novelette located in his fictionalized Sesqua Valley (a
microcosm every bit as realistic in its details of culture and history
as Arkham or Dunwich), this collection also includes a prose poem sequence
similar in tone to some of Machen's finely wrought emotional invasions,
and surrealistic vignettes that remind one of not only Clark Ashton
Smith but the early fantasies of Lord Dunsany and opulent dream pieces
of John Gale. Perhaps no one can describe this collection better than
the author, who states that these are "Lovecraftian dreams as thresholds
to alien emotion, dimension, salvation, damnation." Each piece
is an expressionistic passport to unknowable dimensions of mystical
nightmares and dreamscapes, inviting us to leave ourselves for a moment.
We are asked not only to depart from our skins and minds, but from the
very world we think we know, as Pugmire challenges our concepts
of reality. What remains is both horrifying and tantalizing, a siren's
song that makes destruction and oblivion almost attractive. A medicine
for mediocrity, the 25 selections are all generally what they claim
to be -- dreams. Nightmares. Visions. Hallucinations ... Or perhaps
a truth far greater than what we have been taught to believe constitutes
waking reality. And this is Pugmire's greatest achievement, making us
doubt our finite understanding of either ourselves or the greater universe
around us.
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