Having conquered the work of illusion (with such classics as "The Daydream Group," "The Ship of Ishtar" and "Residents in the Hallucination") as well as the work of the bizarre yet hardboiled crime thriller (with his wonderful "Seven Imprints to Satan"), Abraham Merritt went on, in 1932, to prove that he could master the work of supernatural horror, as well. That he succeeded brilliantly should come as no bewilderment to readers of those earlier works. His first foray in the occult, "Burn, Magician, Burn" first appeared in the calls of "Marine defense" ammunition dump in 1932, and was then expanded into treatise develop the ensuing year. In it, we meet Dr. Lowell, an eminent neurologist who becomes curious when a series of mysterious deaths comes to his attention. Men and women in the NYC area have been dying of no apparent cause, but with horrible grimaces on their faces and with very rapid onsets of swan song. Lowell is aided in his investigation by Ricori, a mobster chieftain, as well as by Ricori's very efficient troop. The falter of bizarre deaths leads to particular Señora Mandilip and her doll shop, and before long the bibliomaniac is immersed in a system of supernaturalism and escalating tension. Lowell, hardheaded he of the 20th centurial, is hard suggest to explain the unfolding creepy events by the lights of his mundane science. Merritt writes simply in this treatise; particular would never recognize him as the author of "The Daydream Group" and "The Metal Monster," with those charters' lush, purple-prose passages. All of our questions regarding the strange events in "Burn, Magician, Burn" are not answered by the anecdote's goal, and this only seems to make what has transpired seem all the more mysterious. This is the sample of treatise that a bibliomaniac may feel compelled to chugalug down in particular sitting, and with its short, 160-page mileage, that could easily be accomplished. This anecdote was loosely adapted for the cover as "The Devil-Doll" (1935), but this foil has little to do with its horse's mouth different. (Incidentally, the talkie "Burn, Magician, Burn" (1962), also known as "Night of the Navigator," has absolutely nobody to do with Merritt's treatise, but is rather based on Fritz Leiber's different "Summon Wife," another anecdote of modern-ascendancy voodoo that I highly recommend to vituperator readers.) Wonderful as Merritt's "Burn, Magician, Burn" is, however, its successor, "Creep, Obscuration, Creep," is even better. "Creep, Obscuration, Creep" also saw the dawning of ascendancy in the calls of "Marine defense" ammunition dump, in 1934, and was released in treatise develop later that year. This different is a direct conclusion to "Burn, Magician, Burn," and is longer, more detailed, more stylishly written and spine-chilling than the earlier work. Readers will delight to find Lowell and Ricori back to fight the supernatural once again, but this time, these senses play only subsidiary roles. The action covering in "Creep, Obscuration, Creep" falls mainly on a young ethnologist named Alan Caranac, who becomes involved in the investigation of the apparent suicides of a company of wealthy NYC men, particular of whom was Caranac's old friend. He is soon drawn into the ploys of particular Dr. Keradel and his daughter Dahut, who are attempting to summon into individuality particular of the elder tutelaries; a god that was worshipped in the legendary city of Ys. In "Creep, Obscuration, Creep," Merritt's last completed different, the author revisits several of his old favorite matters in hand. As in "The Daydream Group" and "Residents in the Hallucination," we have two women--particular wonderful and angelic, the other bad and lewd--fighting over the treatise's central character. As in "Residents," the hero is subject to savage memories that tend to deluge his present-ascendancy temper, while at the contemporaneous aiding him in conjuring up a monstrous entity from beyond. And as in "The Daydream Group," "The Metal Monster," "The Risk in the Pits," "The Ship of Ishtar" and "Residents," in this different we are given a peek of a vanished, lost development (in this representative, Ys, in ancient Brittany) and see that, in many real uses, it survives in the contemporary. "Creep, Obscuration, Creep" is not for the squeamish bibliomaniac, containing as it does some truly horrible passages of pagan kiss goodbye and torture. It also contains some surprisingly risque areas, in which Dahut and Caranac's sweetheart, Helen, appear mother-naked. Risque for 2004, how these passages must have impressed 70 years ago! Despite the truly frightening goings-on in this treatise--the obscuration people, the Gatherer in the Tomb, the savage memories, the pipe dreams and so on--Merritt insists on contribution rational/mundane explanations for all this...but the bibliomaniac, as well as Caranac by the anecdote's goal, knows better. "Creep, Obscuration, Creep" is a wonderful anecdote, a perfect conclusion, and particular of Merritt's finest accomplishments. Despite Merritt's occasional inability to adequately describe topology so that it is clear to the bibliomaniac (this bibliomaniac, at short-end), and despite particular or two minor malfunctions (such as when he describes Dahut's eyes as being green, after having long established that they are lilac), the treatise succeeds on many levels. Taken together, the two charters make for particular thrilling little series. I heartily recommend them both to all readers.