The Season of Culturally Approved Bat Décor approaches, and truth be told, I am falling a little behind. Not wanting to get my decorations shredded by an inquisitive kitten, I am now six days late in setting up the Halloween stuff at my house.
More alarming is that I seem to be tiring of Lovecraft. I didn't even know that could happen: I figured one either loved him or hated him at first sight. And from the moment I read "The Festival" in an anthology at 16, I was hooked, even if the man never met an adjective he didn't like.
Admittedly, my relationship with Lovecraft is like my relationship with The X-Files: I don't give a damn about space aliens. Evil cannibalistic families? All good. Unspeakable beings from beyond the stars? No, thanks, I gave at the office.
And perhaps this is why I failed to get into The Dark Goodbye, which seemed like such a sure thing: film noir and Elder Gods were so much fun together in a movie like Cast A Deadly Spell-- why not in manga?
Sadly, the manga failed to move me. And after going over all the possible reasons -- not wild about the art, plot devolves into a bunch of objectionable characters scrabbling for a power object, scenes loosely tied together at best -- I still think maybe I've lost patience with Cthulhu and his merry band. I kind of hope not. That would be unspeakable. Ineffable. Possibly even "foetid."
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