The Dunwich Horror

“Noises in the hills continued to be reported from year to year, and still form a puzzle to geologists and physiographers.”

The “noises in the hills” heard throughout Dunwich are a physical (677), audible expression of the village’s deep-rooted malaise. The people have become so acclimatized to the sense of dread and to the sound that they hardly hear it anymore. Added to this, scientific attempts to categorize and define the sound have proved impossible. Science cannot define the indefinable, adding to the sense of cosmic horror that lingers over Dunwich.

“Less worthy of notice was the fact that the mother was one of the decadent Whateleys, a somewhat deformed, unattractive albino woman of thirty-five.”

In H. P. Lovecraft’s world, moral decay is often associated with physical abnormality. The Dunwich Horror treats the medical condition of albinism as an indication of moral corruption, describing Lavinia as different and other from the rest of society. This moral corruption is “decadent,” hinting at the author’s reactionary disgust with the modern, debauched world.

“Wilbur was never subsequently seen alive and conscious without complete and tightly buttoned attire.”

Once he reaches a certain age, Wilbur begins to conceal his true self under a layer of tight clothing, representing a deeper form of hiding. Wilbur hides his true form under a veil of suitable, appropriate clothing, but even this clothing is strange. There is something awkward and uncanny about the way his clothes fit, hinting at the terrors that may be concealed beneath the fabric. In the same way, the village of Dunwich is an ill-fitting suit designed to veil the horrors that exist in unknown universes and dimensions.

“The strangeness did not reside in what he said, or even in the simple idioms he used; but seemed vaguely linked with his intonation or with the internal organs that produced the spoken sounds.”

People cannot discern why exactly Wilbur Whateley worries them but cannot shake the idea that something is not right. They search for hints and clues in his clothes, his words, or the tone of his voice, all of which inform them that there is an uncanniness to the young man. In this respect, Wilbur is a cipher for the world at large, hinting at the uncanniness that masks the true evil that people cannot, or will not, discern.

“On May-Eve of 1915 there were tremors which even the Aylesbury people felt, whilst the following Hallowe’en produced an underground rumbling queerly synchronized with bursts of flame.”

The tremors beneath the ground can no longer be ignored. Though the people of Dunwich have tolerated the strangeness in their town, the “bursts of flame” make their Willful Ignorance impossible (682). Like the entity bursting out of the Whateley house later in the novel, the rising sense of terror in the village reaches a point at which it can no longer be contained.

“Dunwich folk read the stories when they appeared, and grinned over the obvious mistakes.”

Even as events at the Whateley house become stranger and stranger, the people of Dunwich find new ways to ignore the reality of their world. When an outsider report on events in their town is printed, they are almost amused. They congratulate themselves and laugh about the inability of the outsiders to comprehend their unique little community. In reality, they are laying the foundation for the destruction of Dunwich by ignoring reality.

“There was talk of a complaint to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals; but nothing ever came of it, since Dunwich folk are never anxious to call the outside world’s attention to themselves.”

The world provides institutions that can aid people in times of need. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals may not be the most powerful institution in the United States, but it offers some semblance of authoritative intervention. To the people of Dunwich, however, the idea of interference from outside the community is distasteful. Through their inaction and insularity, they create the circumstances in which the end of the known world nearly occurs.

“He was obviously quite mad.”

People’s ability to ignore reality is made painfully evident when the doctor comes to treat Old Whateley. Even though Whateley explicitly discusses his dark magic in front of the doctor, the doctor dismisses the old man as “obviously quite mad” (684). The doctor would rather diagnose his patient with a mental health condition than entertain the possibility that the horrors he is describing are actually real. The cosmic horror of the Lovecraftian world is terrifying not only because it is beyond human comprehension but because so many humans refuse to try to comprehend it.

“People generally suspected him of knowing something about his mother’s disappearance, and very few ever approached his neighborhood now.”

The people of Dunwich bring about their own destruction through a repeated series of missteps. When Lavinia disappears, for example, they are certain that her son Wilbur can provide answers. Because talking to Wilbur makes them feel uncomfortable, however, they fail to do so. They avoid rather than confront reality, demonstrating the learned ignorance that permeates the atmosphere of the village and makes them vulnerable to extra-dimensional threat.

“The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be.”

The Old Ones exist in perpetuity. Even in the scant references provided in The Dunwich Horror, they are beings that transcend traditional concepts like linear time or physical space. They live beyond, in all of the past, the present, and the future. They are not beholden to the limitations of human existence, which illustrates their dreadful, ancient power and frames them as an inevitable reckoning that human error will bring into the world.

“As the summer drew on, he felt dimly that something ought to be done about the lurking terrors of the upper Miskatonic valley, and about the monstrous being known to the human world as Wilbur Whateley.”

At the midpoint of The Dunwich Horror, inaction can no longer be tolerated. Outside of the village of Dunwich, one man decides to act. Though Armitage does little more than try to deny Wilbur access to a book, he asserts more agency than anyone in Dunwich has done so far. The Dunwich villagers’ willingness to delude themselves and leave Wilbur’s actions unaddressed nearly brings about the end of the world. Only someone outside of Dunwich intervenes to influence the narrative.

“The thing that lay half-bent on its side in a foetid pool of greenish-yellow ichor and tarry stickiness was almost nine feet tall.”

Wilbur’s true nature is revealed as he lays dying on the library floor. This is a moment of transition, the point at which the focus of the narrative switches from Wilbur to Armitage. The way in which the narration refers to Wilbur signals this shift: He is now a “thing” rather than a person. The language is dehumanizing, foreshadowing the monstrous physical form beneath Wilbur’s clothes.

“Outside the window the shrilling of the whippoorwills had suddenly ceased.”

The presence of the whippoorwill birds is a motif that marks landmark events in the lives of the Whateley family. The birdsong is heard during such moments, so the sudden cessation of their singing is a harbinger of doom. Though Wilbur is dead, the entity in his house is about to be unleashed. The birds do not stop their song to lament Wilbur but to warn of what is about to arrive. This arrival is the most significant consequence of Wilbur’s death.

“Yet all this was only the prologue of the actual Dunwich horror.”

The narrator punctuates the narrative with warnings of what is to come. The allusion to the titular horror indicates that, despite the many terrible things that have already happened, the situation will somehow continue to become worse. The horror of Wilbur’s death foreshadows the destruction of the village and the deaths of many innocent people.

“Someone telephoned the news to the Aylesbury Transcript; but the editor, accustomed to wild tales from Dunwich, did no more than concoct a humorous paragraph about it; an item soon afterward reproduced by the Associated Press.”

The people of Dunwich resent the outside world. The patronizing treatment from a national media organization hints at why the people of the small village may wish to remain separate from the rest of the country. Even though the world could be destroyed due to events transpiring in Dunwich, the people of the village are mocked for exaggerating. They are never taken seriously, breeding dissatisfaction, distrust, and a desire to remain isolated.

“Selina Frye tottered to the telephone and spread what news she could of the second phase of the horror.”

The entity brought into the world by Old Whateley is too terrifying for people to comprehend. The narrator’s refusal to portray the entity directly underlines its horror. Every description is vicarious. Selina Frye reports the destruction over the telephone, rather than the narrator describing the destruction. This has the effect of suggesting that truly confronting the entity and its actions would be very damaging to readers.

“It was in truth a diary, as all had thought; and it was couched in a style clearly shewing the mixed occult erudition and general illiteracy of the strange being who wrote it.”

In reading Wilbur’s diary, Armitage is forcibly reminded that the nearly nine-foot-tall author was barely into his second decade. The complexity of the code contrasts with the semi-illiterate style, creating an uncanniness that makes Wilbur seem even less human. Now Armitage thinks of Wilbur as a “being” rather than as a person.

“His wife, bringing his dinner, found him in a half-comatose state; but he was conscious enough to warn her off with a sharp cry when he saw her eyes wander toward the notes he had taken.”

Armitage reads Wilbur’s diary and is horrified. However, he also gains a sense of purpose and responsibility. He forces himself to bear the terrible burden of understanding, to the point that he refuses to allow his wife to be exposed to such horror. Armitage is willing to sacrifice himself for others.

“Armitage, having read the hideous diary, knew painfully well what kind of a manifestation to expect; but he did not add to the fright of the Dunwich people by giving any hints or clues.”

The knowledge of both the Old Ones’ existence and Wilbur’s efforts to bring one of them into the human dimension is painful for Armitage. Not only is he made aware of a horrifying destructive force that could destroy humanity, but he must also reckon with the knowledge that humans willingly sought to make this happen. He understands the privilege of the Dunwich people, to whom not knowing is better.

“Everyone seemed to feel himself in close proximity to phases of Nature and of being utterly forbidden, and wholly outside the sane experience of mankind.”

Lovecraft defines sanity as the willingness to lie to oneself. Armitage feels as though he is beginning to lose his grip on reality precisely because he has encountered reality so starkly. The Old Ones exist, but humanity’s well-being depends on not knowing this fact. Nevertheless, Armitage questions whether refusing to accept reality can ever be considered sane.

“Curtis, who had held the instrument, dropped it with a piercing shriek into the ankle-deep mud of the road.”

Rather than portray the entity in its horrific totality, readers experience the entity vicariously through characters. Curtis sees the entity through a telescope; narration describes the effect that this has on Curtis instead of describing the entity itself. He shrieks and drops the telescope, unable to process the horror of what he has seen. In cosmic horror, the true nature of reality is too horrific to comprehend but its devasting terribleness is evident in the effect it has on humans.

“Suddenly the sunshine seemed to lessen without the intervention of any discernible cloud.”

Pathetic fallacy is a literary technique in which human emotions and feelings are attributed to inanimate objects, such as the environment. As Armitage and his colleagues confront the entity, a darkness descends over Dunwich. The dark sky is a foreboding reflection of the dark horror that lies ahead for the men, the darkness of the reality that they must accept and confront.

“The pallid group in the road, still reeling at the indisputably English syllables that had poured thickly and thunderously down from the frantic vacancy beside that shocking altar-stone, were never to hear such syllables again.”

The entity’s final screams are understood by the watching men. This reveals a new dimension to the cosmic horror: The guttural, incomprehensible screams were suitably monstrous, but the “indisputably English syllables” force the men to feel a terrifying sense of empathy (710). They have something in common with the horrific entity: language, a prototypically human characteristic. The men must reckon with the sudden terrible awareness that they have more in common with the monster than they might like to think.