When it comes to the members of the “Lovecraft Circle,” Frank Belknap Long (1901-1994) is usually left out in the cold. Unlike Robert E. Howard, Long never created immortal serial characters that went on to appear in comic books and major motion pictures. Unlike Robert Bloch, he never created a smash-hit novel that drew Hollywood’s attention. And unlike August Derleth, Long did not create a publishing house with the expressed purpose of keeping Lovecraft’s work alive. Long was a friend and a writer, plain and simple.
Long was also a workman and quite a productive one. After a brief brush with death due to a severe bout of appendicitis, the Manhattan native set about becoming a freelance writer. Through the high times of the Jazz Age to the more troubled Cold War years, Long churned out fiction, non-fiction, poetry, articles, novels, short stories, essays, and much more. He was also a prolific writer of letters, and near the end of his life, Long was respected by his peers and fans alike as one of the great godfathers of science fiction and fantasy. He was also one of Lovecraft’s close personal friends, and when the Old Man from Providence lived in New York City, he and Long frequently engaged in long discussions, had meals together, and partook in long, ambulatory strolls throughout the city after dark. They traded thousands of letters, as well.
Sadly, all of this hard work and respect did not stop Long from dying as a penniless pauper. Long’s admirers coughed up about $3,000 dollars just so the dearly departed writer could have his name engraved on his headstone. Such is life when one relies on their pen.
Long’s most influential creation appeared in Weird Tales in 1929. “The Hounds of Tindalos” is often considered one of the best additions to the Lovecraftian world, and for good reason. No less a band than Metallica have a song about Long’s tale, while other authors and artists have mentioned and referenced it since its first appearance.
“The Hounds of Tindalos” concerns an occult writer named Halpin Chalmers. One evening, the narrator, known only as Frank, visits Chalmers in his private quarters. Chalmers begins by talking about the connections between mathematics and alchemy, plus he pontificates upon the possibilities of time travel.
"Time is merely our imperfect perception of a new dimension of space. Time and motion are both illusions. Everything that has existed from the beginning of the world exists now. Events that occurred centuries ago on this planet continue to exist in another dimension of space. Events that will occur centuries from now exist already. We cannot perceive their existence because we cannot enter the dimension of space that contains them. Human beings as we know them are merely fractions, infinitesimally small fractions of one enormous whole. Every human being is linked with all the life that has preceded him on this planet. All of his ancestors are parts of him. Only time separates him from his forebears, and time is an illusion and does not exist."
Chalmers has a plan to access the secret dimensions of time, and that plan involves a Chinese narcotic called Liao. Once ingested, the drug allows Chalmers to travel back through time without ever leaving the confines of his apartment. In a sequence of orgasmic visions, Chalmers tells Frank about experiencing the manifold wonders of the past: he is a conquering Caesar in Rome, he rides with the Achaeans as they invade the Greek islands, and he sees the hidden history of Atlantis and Lemuria. Chalmers experiences the truth about time’s angles, particularly its curved angles. Such non-Euclidean ideas were explored by Lovecraft before Long in 1920’s “From Beyond,” and in many ways the later tale “The Dreams in the Witch House” (1933) portrays the topic better. Still, what gives “The Hounds of Tindalos” its frightening power is the suggestion that the curved recesses of time have predatory guardians. These creatures, the titular monstrosities, are full of a dreadful thirst. Chalmers’s invasion of the “pale gray shores beyond time and space” awakens their desires. They want his blood, and occultist is far too enraptured with his drug-fueled discovery to fully turn back.
The story’s apex arrives when, in a final attempt to save his skin, Chalmers uses plaster to cover up all the angles in his apartment. Frank helps, but leaves ultimately believing his friend to be a hopeless maniac. Sadly, Chalmers is proven quite sane in the worst possible way. An explosion in the town of Partridgeville and a subsequent murder all prove Chalmers right about the bloodthirsty hounds.
“The Hounds of Tindalos” is the perfect example of the weird tale, especially the genre’s ability to combine horror with science fiction (and “hard” science at that). Long was never as much of a stylist as either Lovecraft or Howard, but he was a master craftsman nonetheless. “The Hounds of Tindalos” moves at a brisk pace, and there are absolutely no wasted words here. One could easily say that this is the peak of Lovecraft pastiche. Then again, “The Hounds of Tindalos” deserves to be recognized as a great story in its own right. The same can go for the often overlooked Long, too.
For those seeking to experience this morbid curiosity for the first time, look no further than right here.