Review by Frank Plowright

Gou Tanabe has spent a considerable number of years since 2014 applying his virtuoso artistic talent to adaptations of H.P. Lovecraft’s horror stories. Rather than beginning with one of the more famous novels, though, Tanabe dipped his toes in the water with a selection of short stories. Following Tanabe’s as yet untranslated adaptations of works by literary heavyweights Anton Chekov and Maxim Gorky, Lovecraft’s dense descriptive prose must have seemed light reading.

Lovecraft is actually ideal for comics adaptation as his extensive scene-setting and descriptions of mood are easily contracted via illustration. Tanabe is loyal to his source, including original text along with his evocative drawing, but these aren’t exact adaptations.

Tanabe, for instance bumps opening story ‘The Temple’ from World War I to World War II. It matters little other than the upgrading of the German submarine aboard which events take place, Tanabe delivering the internal workings in minute detail. Before diving, the body of a British sailor is discovered and Lt Kleinze removes what seems an extremely old, yet decorative object before the corpse is disposed of. There follows a terrifying reduction of control as the submarine enters uncharted waters while sabotage seems to occur. Due to a strangely inserted black page it seems Tanabe has dropped Lovecraft’s original ending for a more hopeless foreboding, which stands up very well ending a tale with a supernatural mood. However, it continues as a faithful rendering of Lovecraft’s intentions.

The title story is notable among devotees for being the earliest of Lovecraft’s stories to mention The Necronomicon, a book of horrific magic nonetheless prized. In its original form it’s a first person recollection of dark deeds, the narrator one of a pair of grave robbers who learn their prize isn’t worth the eventual price. As comics it’s more effective to see dark deeds carried out than have someone in a chair tell them, and Tanabe’s rural darkness is stunningly realised, as is the threat that manifests.

‘The Nameless City’ exemplifies Lovecraft’s style in brief form, the horror dependent on foreboding and dropped hints of terror to come, often narrated by those unsure of what they may face, but determined to press onward anyway. Greed and/or power are the usual motivations. Although short, it’s a prolonged tease as the narrator journeys into a dark and gloomy place all the time hearing disturbing noises. Here Tanabe is extremely faithful, having much of the original text accompany his evocative art. He has his work cut out as the text refers to ornate paintings, losing no impact for being presented as a black and white spread.

Lovecraft’s stories depend strongly on atmosphere and Tanabe delivers that in spades, from shapes in the darkness to terrified faces. Much of Lovecraft’s longer work has been adapted several times in comics form, but to the best of this reviewer’s knowledge this package is the only place you’ll find these stories in comics. Anyone who loves his work is unlikely to find it better illustrated.