/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.17445708]

Any books that have a similar feel to this bad boy?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.17445730]

Besides the obvious lovecraft, Blackwood and machen, you can try out the works of Clark Ashton smith which blend fantasy and horror in a way that even lovecraft was jealous of. Try one of his prose works or his poem apocalypse of evil.

The entirety of the Typhonian trilogies is basically the bloodborne of esotericism

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.17445777]

Oh and for what it’s worth, here’s a poem I wrote which might be similar enough in theme to do ya good.

The Vampire of the spider lilies

I stepped outside my home to get some air
I walked aimlessly until I saw there
was a unlit road i had never seen
I heard a voice whispering “if you mean
to enter my mystery, come to me”
I entered though unsure what it would be
I saw little flowers along the way
they shined scarlet red like it was the day
the deeper I went the more they crowded
like the more I walked the more they sprouted

I reached the end of the dark flower path
I saw a statue covered in a bath
of blood and lily petals, it was shaped
like a fanged woman who’s fingers were scraped
spiders legs and a centipedes form
my head then began to feel very warm
I then laid myself down by the statue
the stench of the flowers spread and accrue
rotten flesh, dirt of the mouth, old decay
i then got up and willed to get away
the statue’s head leapt and flew a circle
around me and in a ugly gurgle
said “om Rakta Dam Blut blut dam rakta
phat Ahamkara Rakta Hum hamsa”
i became confused and saw its neck grow
it twisted around me, I couldn’t go
it bit my neck and injected poison
deep dooming dark dirty disgusting death
spinning spirals speckled spots shimmering
lady’s laughter Losing Losing Lo-gone

I was now in a dark land, I couldn’t
I was a fool, i was always a fool
where am I now? why didn’t I go back? why didn’t I
see where I was, i was completely lost
I am filled with dread and encompassed by
the smell of Putrefaction and fragrances of mildew
and as I tried to move my feet wouldn’t
a void filled with horrible shadows cruel
which revealed to me hidden things given to man, they don’t
move an inch, my skin shivers, something tossed
to all living things, I wish they would die
some kind of strange fluid upon my skin
I wish to become drunk upon their blood

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.17445786]

>>17445777
the nectar of the dark phantoms filled my inmost spirit
I arose to my feet and saw a pool
of coldness like a knife stabbing my thigh
which filled with cancerous boils and then leaked foul icicles
of blood where rest a spider which had been
my burning Brain, it swept me through the flood
everything overwhelmed me, my eyes ached and fell from me
there though obscured, I then began to drool
hate, disgust and hate for man, less than worms
i could not stop it, the spider drank it
yet prideful, man comes from and remains Mud
I could feel myself being lost, its soul becoming mine
it atop me climbed higher eating spit
i accept it, my heart thirsts and I yearn
I and it I and it I am it I am i am I


it entered my mouth and I felt a change
I opened my eyes and felt very strange
the red lilies were gone, but the statue
remained, appearing with a face that knew
all things, like an old woman, or a friend
i bowed to that statue, “ you who does tend
to the red lilies of blood, be with me
until the end, you are the spider, she
who is the devourer of all men”
i plucked a single scarlet lily then

walked back up the road to return back home
I was tired from how much I did roam
I laid my head down to sleep but wondered
what were those evil words I heard uttered
I never saw that road ‘till that hour
and whatever happened to that flower?

was this just my dream?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.17445849]

Note, the relevant notes OP are Gothic, Decadent, Ghost story and weird fiction. So all of these might have aspects that interest you.

Pure Ghost story would be something like Mr James, gothic stuff is an intensification (and often a more edgy form) of romanticism, think bram stoker’s Dracula. Decadent literature is another call back to similar ideas as romanticism but is more self conscious, more pessimistic, more interested in the weird, strange oriental, rich, ornate, purple, ceremonial, ritualistic, they are defined by “aesthetics for aesthetics sake” Swinburne and Oscar Wilde are good examples in English of this style by itself.

Weird fiction is a growth/tumor that grew out of gothic fiction that fixated on the eerie weird feelings, experiences and stories, these often mixed scientific and supernatural elements to maximize how weird they can make ya feel and drive the mind. This is your lovecraft. Some authors blur and combine these lines, weird fiction-decadent blends exist for example in Clark Ashton smith and gilchrist. Lovecraft himself had a fascinating relationship with the decadents to the point some argue the weird genre roots out of decadent art.

So I would recommend op you isolate which elements you find most fascinating from bloodborne and then look for authors which fit those aspects. Again, you’ll likely love Clark.

[Anonymous No.17445870]

>>17445730
>>17445777
>>17445786
>>17445849
thanks for the response. clark ashton smith does sound pretty interesting. i'll go ahead and check out the dark eidolon