This is my first book by Machen, but hardly of this genre of "gentlemanly narrative" and the horror of other realms. A number of white British men set out to live their lives with varying levels of curiosity in the occult realm--after all, what else could occupy them from their endless succession of wealthy dinners and distractions? At first, it is difficult to see how all of the chapters intersect, but soon enough, the various scenes resolve to discover that a great evil--tragically experimented with in the first chapter--is not done with them.  And, little wonder, it manifests in the guise of a woman.

Let's not spend overmuch time dealing with the misogyny and latent classicism and racism which is overwhelming present in these old stories. Check. Ditto. It's here. But this is a review of the story and its crafting. The more important cultural and political talk about these books belongs in a more important space than this.  

What did interest me, though, about Machen's structuring of the story is the shifting of chapters between scenes and characters, absenting some altogether and then pointing at a quirk of one or another at length. I'm not certain that this is effective narration, but it did disorient me some, basically off-loading the horror to the margins. And this is where it largely stays. Every moment of terror and true danger occurs in retrospect through the telling of stories 1st or even 3rd hand in the relative comfort of someone's study. Even the resolution will not have its moment in action but as told first in preparation for and then as afterword. "I plan to do this," and then, "Here is how it went." Yes, to consider what they confront--the Great God Pan, perhaps?--is truly a terrifying conception. But Machen never really lets us get too close.

More than twice, I wondered if the motivation for this evil was political justice against rich white men (as it surely would be if written today), but no, Machen approaches the story with seemingly no irony at all. The rich white men have been set upon; and they will be defended in this story nearly 150 years old. And don't forget: the evil the woman does upon them is only insinuated, perhaps the real terror which is whispered of only in the oblique terms of white men in their clubs and studies. 

In this sense, the book offers no twists or surprises; more it is a conventionally-situated dive into what will ultimately become a sub-genre of horror called pulp or Lovecraftian horror. Sinister, yes, but altogether "comforting" in its performance.

P.S. Just found out that Stephen King called this one of "the best horror stories ever written." Sorry. Steve.