Lovecraft, H P - Nyarlathotep

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Nyarlathotep

by H. P. Lovecraft

Written early Dec 1920

Published November 1920 in The United Amateur, Vol. 20, No. 2, p. 19-21.

Nyarlathotep... the crawling chaos... I am the last... I will tell the audient void...

I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was

horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding

apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a

danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that

the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and

prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had

heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the

stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a

demoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons the autumn heat lingered fearsomely,

and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of

known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.

And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he

was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw

him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven

centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of

civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange

instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He

spoke much of the sciences of electricity and psychology and gave exhibitions of power

which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding

magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where

Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of

nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now

the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of

cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters

gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.

I remember when Nyarlathotep came to my city the great, the old, the terrible city of

unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and

allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost

mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered

imaginings; and what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things

none but Nyarlathotep dared prophesy, and in the sputter of his sparks there was taken

from men that which had never been taken before yet which shewed only in the eyes.

And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyarlathotep looked on sights which

others saw not.

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Lovecraft, H P - Nyarlathotep

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