H. P. Lovecraft is on of those writer’s whom set the foundations for a genre. His work, unappreciated in his years on this earth, lives on as a pinnacle of modern horror and he stands as the father of cosmic horror. You may not know is name off the top of your head if you’re not teetering the edges of the darker genres such as thriller, horror, and so on, but you likely have met some of his creations; The Call of Cthulhu, The Shadow Over Innsmouth, and this novel, At The Mountains of Madness.

The reason I bring this up is because I am a firm believer that all authors should read at least one H. P. Lovecraft book for the sake of their own writing. You must feast your eyes on the precision of detail and immersion he creates with his tone, word choices, description and character background in order to establish his landscapes.

At the Mountains of Madness is set on Antarctica, a place many of us can safely say we have never been nor intend to go. It also features a deep-set rooting in history with how dated the equipment, transport and understanding of the continent is. This is no setback, rather it is a conscious choice weaved into the fabric of the narrative to further support the ideas of barrenness, of primitive actions and discoveries, and of isolation brought on by distance, weather, and technology. In order to believe the conditions and to believe in the plausibility of the horrors found within the mountain, the reader must feel what the characters feel emotionally and physically.

This leads me onto the description and tone, two elements in which H. P. Lovecraft, in my opinion, excels in with his works. You can flick to any page and find an excerpt of such vivid imagery you cannot help but see the subject, hear it, feel it, smell it and taste it.

For example, “It would be cumbersome to give a detailed, consecutive account of our wanderings inside that cavernous, aeon-died honeycomb of primal masonry; that monstrous lair of elder secrets that now echoed for the first time, after uncounted epochs, to the tread of human feet.”

You can feel the aged tone, that academic touch appropriate for the character’s occupation as a scientist, and the evocative power of such artfully chosen words. This isn’t even an excerpt that mentions his creatures (I won’t spoil it for you) and you already get a sense for the immersion and the investment of this novel – you cannot help but imagine these events and details, the minor moments to hook you in and pull you from the comfort of your space. Then the horror arrives.

If you’re not a huge fan of the gruesome, the grotesque, the cosmic and existential horror, then my recommendation would be At the Mountains of Madness. If you don’t mind it, well my friend, there are many to choose from. If you can spare a moment to appreciate and respect the vivid description and detail of his creatures, imagining them in all their glory, then you will also get an understanding of why I implore authors to read his works. I feel that the high fantasy authors would have a lot of fun and illumination greeting the old gods.