Clark
Ashton Smith is a name that exists at the periphery of science fiction and
fantasy lore, a name often evoked but rarely read. He is sometimes dismissed as
an imitator of Lovecraft; at other times, as a writer whose exotic, hot-house
prose often carried him away from his subjects. Yet the titles of his numerous
short stories are too tempting to leave to second-hand wisdom: works like “The
City of the Singing Flame,” “The Dark Eidolon,” and “Ubbo-Sathla” remind me of
long-lost AD&D campaigns and hidden, forgotten evils buried in the appendix
of the Fiend Folio. There’s some truth to this, as without Clark ’s stories, so much of
the modern fantasy mythos would cease to exist. Along with Lovecraft and
Tolkein, Smith’s stories were mined for their outlandish visions of Atlantean
worlds and unspeakable terrors. What others left behind was Smith’s unique
language—he is unparalleled as a crafter of prose in fantasy writing—and his ability
to create tension and twist endings. Smith excelled at the short story, and a
10-page tale from Smith often contains more beauty, wonder, and mystery than
many a thousand-page tome making lavish promises on its book jacket.
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