Showing posts with label Henry S. Whitehead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry S. Whitehead. Show all posts

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Weird Tales Books-Stories of the Walking Dead-Part Two

Stories of the Walking Dead (1986)
Edited by Peter Haining

Stories & Authors
(In chronological order by date of first publication)

"The Country of the Comers-Back" (ca. 1888-1890, 1890)
by Lafcadio Hearn (1850-1904) Irish-American

"The Country of the Comers-Back" was originally a part of Lafcadio Hearn's series of travelogues on the West Indies, written for Harper's New Monthly Magazine and published in 1888-1890. This series was collected and reprinted in Two Years in the French West Indies in 1890 and reprinted again in later years. In that book, Hearn's story was called "La Guiablesse." Peter Haining changed the title to the more evocative (and pertinent) "The Country of the Comers-Back." We should note that Martinique, on which the story is set, is called "the Island of Revenants" or "the Island of the Comers-Back" because people who visit there are supposed to find it so pleasant that they want to return. Although Martinique is also called "the Island of Ghosts," the sobriquet used as the title here has nothing to do with zombies, as when Hearn's story was written, zombis were still spirits and not the undead that we know today.

There are actually two stories in "The Country of the Comers-Back." The first is Hearn's investigation into the meaning of zombi. He asks Adou, the daughter of his landlady, What is a zombi? (Not the first nor the last time that question is asked in the annals of zombiedom. I'm still not sure we have gotten the picture.) Her answers are vague. A zombi is something that makes disorder in the night . . . zombis are everywhere . . . a zombi is a woman fourteen feet high who comes into your locked house at night . . . it is a five-foot tall dog that also comes into your house at night . . . a great fire on the road at night, one that continually recedes as you approach: that is made by a zombi . . . "a horse with only three legs that passes you: that is a zombi." One thing Adou makes clear: a zombi is not "the spectre of a dead person" or "one who comes back." The second story in "The Country of the Comers-Back" is of a Guiablesse, or devil-woman, who lures a man to his death. My friend points out the similarity of the word to diablesse, a female devil. In Caribbean folklore, there is another devil-woman called La Diablesse, probably the same kind of creature.

"Jumbee" (1926)
by Henry S. Whitehead (1882-1932) American

"Jumbee" was written and published before the advent of the Seabrook zombie. It is set in the Virgin Islands and is a tale told by a native to a visitor from the mainland United States. The visitor, Mr. Lee, has read about Martinique and Guadeloupe and has encountered the word Zombi before. (He must have read the travelogues of Lafcadio Hearn, who is mentioned in the story.) He knows about Jumbees, too, for he has read The History of Stewart McCann (evidently a fictitious book, à la Ech-Pi-El). Like Zombis, Jumbees are spirits. Mr. Da Silva, the teller of the tale, describes the Jumbees he has seen: a boy, a girl, and a "shriveled old woman," three together, hanging in the air next to the road. "The Hanging Jumbees have no feet," Mr. Da Silva explains. "Their legs stop at the ankles. They have abnormally long, thin African legs. They are always black, you know. Their feet--if they have them--are always hidden in a kind of mist that lies along the ground . . . . they do not twirl about. But they do--always--face the oncomer . . . ." (First set of ellipses added.) (This description of floating and footlessness reminds me of the Flatwoods Monster and the Mothman.) The tale continues without any further mention of Zombis, for in Reverend Whitehead's tale, Jumbees have taken the place of Zombis as the spirits of the night.

"Dead Men Working in the Cane Fields" (1928, 1929)
by William B. Seabrook (1884-1945) American

"Dead Men Working in the Cane Fields" is originally from William B. Seabrook's syndicated newspaper features of 1928. Like Lafcadio Hearn more than a generation before, Seabrook traveled to the Caribbean to report on local culture, folklore, etc. His articles were collected in The Magic Island, published in January 1929 to immediate acclaim and great success. It is because of Seabrook that we have zombies in America today. You might say that he carried the zombie virus from its isolated tropical fastness into our large, bustling country. After alternating periods of incubation, infection, remission, and reinfection, the virus is now among us and everyone has become infected.

Like Hearn's article, "Dead Men Working in the Cane Fields" is actually two tales told to Seabrook and relayed to us through his writing. The first tale is the paradigm for zombie stories that came after it and that almost fill this anthology: men and women raised from their graves by a zombie-maker, held as slaves without mind or will, and returned to their graves only when they taste salt or eat meat. In short, they are the walking dead that we know now, except that they are not cannibalistic or threatening in any way.

There is a statement in "Dead Men Working in the Cane Fields" that stands out for me. Lamercie, a black female overseer of zombie-slaves, tells Seabrook, "Z'affrai' neg pas z'affrai' blanc'." The affairs of blacks are not the affairs of whites. (1) Zombie-ism is a thing among black Haitians, she is saying. It is not something with which white people should concern themselves. I think that's an important thing to know for two reasons. First, among the zombies encountered in the story are several slaves under Ti Joseph, "an old black headman," who has them work for him at Hasco, the Haitian-American Sugar Company. Leftists might see this as an example of capitalist and imperialist exploitation of zombie-slaves. In actuality, the zombie-slaves are being exploited by a black headman, and it is his affair. Hasco simply employs the people who are presented to them by Ti Joseph, a kind of recruiter or subcontractor. Yes, Hasco is there in the island nation of Haiti and is either providing work or providing the opportunity for workers to be exploited, however you might look at it. But the culpability lies solely with Ti Joseph and similar native slave-masters and overseers. They are the ones who have made the zombie-slaves and/or are exploiting the zombie-slaves. Hasco had nothing to with with either action, for zombie-ism during the American occupation of Haiti was still "z'affrai' neg" and not "z'affrai blanc'." The distinction is an important one. Nevertheless, it may be lost on leftists in academia today, despite their vast erudition.

Second, and more importantly, I think, zombie-ism was presumably practiced in Haiti for generations, if not centuries, before Americans arrived there in the 1910s. It was, again, an affair for black people, and no one outside the island seems to have known about it until William Seabrook sent out his dispatches to the American reading public. (2) Zombies became popular only after they were transferred from their originating black culture into the larger white culture. Remember, the first zombie movie was called White Zombie. Call it cultural appropriation if you like (3), but zombies came of interest to white people only after that transfer, and especially when zombies, zombie-makers, zombie-masters, and Voodoo in general were seen as threats to white people. For as long as zombies were "z'affrai' neg," there was no threat, at least to white people. We see the same thing today where black men are killed or black women go missing and almost nothing is said about it in the mainstream media.

It seems to me that this is the story in general of black culture in its transfer to white culture. For example, when jazz, blues, and rock-and-roll were black forms, they were of little or no interest to white people. As they began being transferred into white culture, they were seen by many people as being negative (neg-ative?) or even threatening. Once they were pretty fully whitified--jazz in the 1920s (under Paul Whiteman, no less), rock-and-roll in the 1950s, and blues in the 1960s--they became less negative and more acceptable in the white mainstream. It reached a point where some black practitioners of these black forms were seen among white people as somehow threatening or hostile. Miles Davis comes to mind as an example. In any case, today, zombies are mostly white and are very popular among white people. White people in the real world see themselves as zombie-slaves or see other people as zombie-cannibals or zombie-deadmen. The black past of zombies seems to have been forgotten. The paradigm of the threat of zombie-ism--perhaps especially of black zombie-ism--to white people began after the publication of The Magic Island and continued for decades in popular fiction, as we'll see in part three of this series.

The second tale in "Dead Men Working in the Cane Fields," by the way, is a Poe-esque tale of a woman who goes to a dinner on the occasion of her wedding anniversary and is greeted with a macabre scene laid out by her husband.

Note
(1) In that, Lamercie echoes the words of Lafcadio Hearn's Guiablesse, who tells a man who asks where she lives, "Zaffrai cabritt pa zaffrai lapin." The affairs of the goat are not the affairs of the rabbit. In other words, none of your business.
(2) As we have seen, British author Hesketh Prichard went to Haiti a generation before Seabrook, and although he wrote about Voodoo and the Mamaloi, he seems not to have known about zombies.
(3) I won't because I don't believe in cultural appropriation. People have been borrowing things from other people's culture for as long as there have been people. If you don't like cultural appropriation, you shouldn't put up a Christmas tree at your house next Yuletide season unless you're of German descent. And quit speaking English if you're not of Anglo-Saxon origin.

To be continued . . . 

A zombie? Maybe. A photograph presumably taken by William B. Seabrook in Haiti, circa 1928. From the El Paso Herald, March 31, 1928, p. 8. 

Text copyright 2017, 2023 Terence E. Hanley

Monday, February 6, 2017

The Secret Origin of Zombies-Part Three

The Missing Piece: Zombi(e) Stories in Weird Tales

U.S. Marines went into Haiti on July 28, 1915, and came back out again on August 15, 1934. That nineteen-year-long episode is almost forgotten in the United States today. It's probably better remembered in Haiti. The invasion force that Americans remember came from the opposite direction, for sometime during the occupation of Haiti, zombies arrived on our shores. They have never left.

 I have an article from 1932 that asks the question: Do zombies really exist? 
Rumors have been seeping in for years [the article reads] from the island of Haiti about dead bodies being exhumed and, through a process of sorcery, put to work in the fields and mills, but is there any truth in the rumors? (1)
If there were rumors seeping in from Haiti, they must have come from Americans on the island. William B. Seabrook (1884-1945) was one of them. In 1928, he returned dispatches to an American syndicate for publication in the nation's newspapers. These were reports on zombies, men who had been enslaved and put to work in the sugar cane fields of Haiti. Seabrook published his reporting in a book, The Magic Island, in 1929. The book proved a sensation and led to a stage play, Zombie, in early 1932 and a far more successful film, White Zombie, released on July 28, 1932 (the seventeenth anniversary of the marine landing at Port-au-Prince). You might call William Seabrook the father of zombies in America, except that there was another American writer in Haiti in the 1920s who wrote stories of the island nation and its folklore. And he was sent there as an officer in the U.S Marine Corps. So not so fast, William Seabrook.

Arthur J. Burks (1898-1974) was born in Waterville, Washington, and served in the U.S. Marine Corps from 1917 to 1927. In the early 1920s, he was stationed in what one newspaper article described as "the unknown fastnesses of Santo Domingo," from which "he mailed story after story to the States." These were returned to him, but after taking a correspondence course in short-story writing and returning to the United States in 1924, "he sold scores of short stories and novelettes" and even a novel. (2) One of those stories was "Thus Spake the Prophetess: A Tale of Haiti," published in Weird Tales in November 1924 under the byline Estil Critchie. It was Burks' first story in "The Unique Magazine" and the first of several set in Haiti and on the island of Santo Domingo or Hispaniola. Many if not all of these stories were reprinted in the book Black Medicine in 1966. (3)

There was yet another American writer in the West Indies during the 1920s. This was Henry S. Whitehead (1882-1932), a native of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a graduate of Harvard University (where Franklin D. Roosevelt was one of his classmates), and an Episcopal priest. From 1921 to 1929, Whitehead was acting archdeacon of the U.S. Virgin Islands. (4) Like Arthur J. Burks, Whitehead collected tales of West Indian folklore, turning them into short stories for the pulp magazine market in America. His first story for Weird Tales was "Tea Leaves" for the triple May/June/July 1924 issue. His story "Jumbee," from the September 1926 issue, is the first in Weird Tales that I know of to use the word zombi. That's only in passing, though. The main part of the story is about a jumbee, a West Indian spirit of another type, although the derivation of the word is almost certainly the same. (5) Sadly, Whitehead died young, at age fifty. His death in 1932 was perhaps the first great loss suffered by readers and fans of Weird Tales. August W. Derleth remembered him with Jumbee and Other Uncanny Tales, published by Derleth's Arkham House in 1944.

The key words in the previous paragraph are "that I know of." I don't have access to most of Henry S. Whitehead's stories, and I have never read anything by Arthur J. Burks. My suspicion is that the word zombi, and possibly zombie (William Seabrook's spelling), appeared in Weird Tales between 1923 and 1928 (other than in "Jumbee"). It's also possible that Seabrook's version of the zombie as a mindless, soulless slave--a walking deadman--is in Weird Tales. On the other hand, maybe the Seabrook zombie was not in Weird Tales before 1928. Whatever the case may be, this is something we should know for sure. So with that in mind, I would like to offer a list of stories, poems, and articles about zombi(e)s and voodoo from Weird Tales, and I would like to ask everyone who cares to do it to begin searching for the occurrence of zombi(e)s in those stories. I hope we can meet with some success.

Stories, Poems, and Articles about Zombies and Voodoo in Weird Tales, 1923-1939
Plus a Few Maybes and Probably Including Some Stories That Shouldn't Be Here and Probably Missing Some That Should Be
  • "Voodooism" by Bill Nelson (article, July/Aug. 1923)
  • "Thus Spake the Prophetess: A Tale of Haiti" by Estil Critchie (Arthur J. Burks) (Nov. 1924)
  • "Death-Waters" by Frank Belknap Long (Dec. 1924; reprinted Sept. 1933)--I have read this story, and there are no zombi(e)s. However, there is a black sorcerer who has power over serpents, perhaps like those in the cult of Li Grand Zombi.
  • "Voodoo" by Estil Critchie (Arthur J. Burks) (Dec. 1924)
  • "Luisma's Return" by Arthur J. Burks (Jan. 1925)
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: 1. A Broken Lamp-Chimney" by Arthur J. Burks (Feb. 1925)
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: 2. Desert of the Dead" by Arthur J. Burks (Mar. 1925)
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: 3. Daylight Shadows" by Arthur J. Burks (Apr. 1925)
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: 4. The Sorrowful Sisterhood" by Arthur J. Burks (May. 1925)
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: 5. The Phantom Chibo" by Arthur J. Burks (June 1925)
  • "The Return of the Undead" by Arthur Leeds (Nov. 1925)
  • "Ti Michel" by W.J. Stamper (June 1926)
  • "Jumbee" by Henry S. Whitehead (Sept. 1926; reprinted Feb. 1938)--Mentions the word zombi, but focuses on the spirit of the title. A weird and creepy tale well worth reading.
  • "Strange Tales from Santo Domingo: Faces" by Arthur J. Burks (Apr. 1927)
The Magic Island by William B. Seabrook published, January 1929
  • "Le Revenant" by Charles Beaudelaire (poem, May 1929)--This is a poem about a ghost rather than a zombi(e) or the undead.
  • "Black Tancrede" by Henry S. Whitehead (June 1929)
  • "The Corpse-Master" by Seabury Quinn (July 1929)
  • "The Drums of Damballah" by Seabury Quinn (Mar. 1930)
  • "Voodoo" by A. Leslie (poem, Apr. 1930)
  • "Hill Drums" by Henry S. Whitehead (June/July 1931)
  • "The Venus of Azombeii" by Clark Ashton Smith (June/July 1931)--The Azombeii of the title is a fictional place in Africa. The people of Azombeii are described as "a pagan tribe of unusual ferocity, who were still suspected of cannibalism and human sacrifice." I have not read this story all the way through, but the word Azombeii seems to be a combination of Zombie and Pompeii, and is almost certainly meant to evoke images or awareness of zombies.
  • "Placide's Wife" by Kirk Mashburn (Nov. 1931)
White Zombie released, July 28, 1932
  • "The Last of Placide's Wife" by Kirk Mashburn (Sept. 1932)
  • "In Memoriam: Henry St. Clair Whitehead" [by H.P. Lovecraft] (article, Mar. 1933)
  • "Voodoo Song" by Mary Elizabeth Counselman (poem, July 1933)
  • "Dead Men Walk" by Harold Ward (Aug. 1933)
  • "Voodoo Vengeance" by Kirk Mashburn (Nov. 1934)
  • "Isle of the Undead" by Lloyd Arthur Eshbach (Oct. 1936)
  • "Pigeons from Hell" by Robert E. Howard (May 1938; reprinted Nov. 1951)
  • "While Zombies Walked" by Thorp McClusky (Sept. 1939)--This is the first story in Weird Tales with the word zombie(s) in the title. It is set in the South. The zombies are slaves of a white zombie-master who has learned his craft from a black Voodoo man. The zombie-master uses Voodoo dolls to control people.
By the way, the first short story chronologically in the Internet Speculative Fiction Database with the word zombie(s) in the title was "White Zombie" by Vivian Meik from his collection Devils' Drums (1933). The first serial in a magazine was "Z Is for Zombie" by Theodore Roscoe in Argosy, February 6-March 13, 1937. And the first short story in a magazine was "Zombies Never Die" by Richard Tooker in Thrilling Mystery, November 1937.

To be continued . . . 

Notes
(1) From "At the Elwood" in The Call-Leader, Elwood, Indiana, Dec. 23, 1932, p. 6.
(2) From "Marine Officer, Rising Author, Finds Pen Mightier Than the Sword" in the Monroe News-Star, Monroe, Louisiana, July 23, 1925, p. 10.
(3) Black Medicine was issued by August Derleth's Arkham House with a cover design by Lee Brown Coye. See the image below.
(4) The United States acquired the Virgin Islands from Denmark in 1917 during the administration of Woodrow Wilson. If you're still looking for connections between American colonialism/imperialism and zombies, you're right back at Woodrow Wilson. Yeah, a Democrat and a Progressive. Sorry. The date, by the way, was March 31, 1917, so we're nearing the centennial of the U.S. Virgin Islands.
(5) The title in Italian is, tellingly, "Zumbi": the Italian alphabet lacks the letter j.
Finally, the subject of zombies and the U.S. Marine Corps gives new meaning to our most recent ex-president's pronunciation "corpseman." He's the smartest man in the room, you know. Probably one of the smartest presidents ever. Just ask people who speak the Austrian language or who live on the Maldive Islands in the South Atlantic.

Black Medicine by Arthur J. Burks (Arkham House, 1966), a collection of his stories for Weird Tales. Cover art by Lee Brown Coye.

Jumbee and Other Uncanny Tales by Henry S. Whitehead (Arkham House, 1944), a posthumous collection of his stories, including the proto-zombie story "Jumbee." Cover art by Charles Frank Wakefield.

Text copyright 2017, 2023 Terence E. Hanley

Monday, December 14, 2015

Final Notes from PulpFest

On Saturday evening, August 15, 2015, a panel of enthusiasts and scholars got together at PulpFest in Columbus, Ohio, to talk about the editors of Weird Tales. The panelists were Garyn Roberts, Morgan Holmes, Don Herron, Will Murray, and moderator Tom Krabacher. Their talk is called "Weird Editing at 'The Unique Magazine'." You can hear it on the website The Pulp.Net, here.

On the day of the talk, someone warned me that it could become contentious. I have wondered about the politics behind pulp magazine research and about Weird Tales in particular. I am not an insider in the world of pulps and really have no experience with the political side of things. I asked what the contentiousness might be about but came away without anything concrete. As it turned out, the talk was mostly friendly and only a little contentious. Evidently things were worked out before it began. I have a feeling, though, that the politics of Weird Tales involves mostly H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard--and probably August Derleth, too. Lovecraft and Howard may at times have been handled a little roughly by the magazine. For fans, that kind of handling may very well amount to an unforgivable crime.

I made only a few notes during the talk. Here they are, fleshed out:
  • Regarding the origins of Weird Tales, Will Murray mentioned a letter written by Henry S. Whitehead and published in The Writer magazine in 1921 or 1922. In his letter, Whitehead complained about the lack of outlets for stories of ghosts and fairies. That caught my interest, so I looked it up. The letter is called "Editorial Prejudice Against the Occult." It was published in The Writer in October 1922, Volume 34, Number 10, pp. 146-147. You can read the text in Google Books and on the blog Tentaclii::H.P. Lovecraft Blog, August 13, 2014, here. Whitehead got his wish just five months later with the debut of Weird Tales. He went on to have twenty-six stories published in "The Unique Magazine."
  • One of the panelists--I think it was Don Herron--brought up Lovecraft's ghostwriting for Harry Houdini. I made a note at that point: "Houdini helped Lovecraft escape from his marriage." My chain of thought in writing that is lost, but Lovecraft returned from New York City to Providence in April 1926. Houdini died six months later, on October 31, 1926. Lovecraft had previously ghostwritten "Imprisoned with the Pharaohs," published in the triple-issue Weird Tales of May/June/July 1924. Lovecraft lost his draft of the story on his way to marrying Sonia Greene. He spent his honeymoon retyping the story. By the time two years had passed, Lovecraft was back in the city of his birth and his marriage was for all intents and purposes over.
  • J.C. Henneberger famously offered the editorship of Weird Tales to H.P. Lovecraft in 1924. Lovecraft famously declined. In a way, though, Lovecraft was an editor in the way that an editor works with a circle of authors, developing them, mentoring them, encouraging them, suggesting revisions, rewriting stories, etc.
  • H.P. Lovecraft was rejected by Weird Tales on several occasions, as Morgan Holmes pointed out in the talk, but he ultimately rejected himself by not acting professionally, retyping his manuscripts, seizing opportunities, or persisting in his pursuit of being a writer; also by excusing himself from work as an old-fashioned gentleman or dilettante, by talking down his work, by giving up easily, in short, by his evident passivity and low self-esteem.
  • The talk at PulpFest was about fifty minutes long. Edwin Baird got a couple of minutes. Dorothy McIlwraith, who edited the magazine for fourteen years, got about the same. Dorothy is often passed over, but one of the panelists made a good point, that she may not have published stories as good as those published under Farnsworth Wright, but she also didn't publish stories that were as bad. Otherwise, talk of Wright dominated "Weird Editing at 'The Unique Magazine'." Opinion of him was mixed as it seems to be in general among readers of the pulps.
So that ends my series on Notes from PulpFest. Now on to other things.

The cover of Pinkie at Camp Cherokee, a children's novel by Henry S. Whitehead from 1931.

Text copyright 2015, 2023 Terence E. Hanley