Sometimes, a title just reaches out and grabs me—and I have to buy the book. This was the case with There’s Something Here From Somewhere Else. It’s a perfect encapsulation of cosmic horror’s foundations: a fear of the Other, of what’s Out There.
These themes are woven through this cosmic horror novella. Jonathon T. Cross is clearly a fan of classic Lovecraftian fiction, and There’s Something Here From Somewhere Else reads like it could have been penned by Lovecraft. Whereas Jonathon T. Cross’s other cosmic horror story, Cthulhu’s Lure (which I reviewed here), is set in the modern day and reimagines the mythos through the lens of internet cults and modern celebrity, There’s Something Here From Somewhere Else is more straightforward and old school. Set in the 1950s, the story centres around a girl called Lydia whose family have recently moved to a village in the swamp. Local legends surround the place about a creature known as The Lurker. Herbalism and witchcraft are rife here. Law enforcement exists, but the town seems to prefer its own brand of lynch-mob justice. Lydia hates it here, and it’s easy to see why.
The swamp is a perfect backdrop for a tale of cosmic terror. There are very real monsters in the swamp—gators, as one example—and the people there have been hardened by their difficult existence.
But just when Lydia’s life seems to become unbearable, a doll appears. The doll looks just like her, like it was made for her. The doll brings her comfort. The doll might just have otherworldly powers…
What enfolds is a story that centres around perception. Where Jonathon T. Cross diverts from Lovecraft is his interest in perspective and truth. Lovecraft’s protagonists are almost invariably scientifically minded individuals—or fully fledged scientists—who inch closer and closer to the truth by means of their scientific methodology. The truth invariably destroys them. Lovecraft’s imagery speaks to an underlying obsession in the unconscious mind of the human race. Lovecraft described it as “fear of the unknown” but in actual fact his fiction exposes that far from it being unknown we already know this truth and will do everything in our power to avoid confronting it. When forced to face it, we are utterly destroyed.
Jonathon T. Cross, on the other hand, presents a more muddied picture of truth (again, the swamp forms the perfect symbolic backdrop for this!). The muddying of truth is woven into every facet of the narrative. Lydia’s parents are not who they say they are. The mysterious witch who lives “out in the fog” and keeps a pet wolf is not who everyone thinks she is. Lydia’s rescuers are not who they say they are. Lydia herself is not who she thinks she is. The whole narrative we are reading is not what we think it is.
The fear in the story doesn’t really come from The Lurker, so much as the instability and deceits of the human mind. When we cannot rely on our eyes to truly see or our ears to truly hear, then who is to say we do not live in a world of horrors. The recurring motif of There’s Something Here From Somewhere Else is safety found and then taken away again. There is no harbour, no port in the storm. That is because the sickness lies within. The horror—the cosmic invasion—has occurred at a psychological level, where we cannot even run from it.
If I have one criticism of the novella, it’s that at times the narrative relied on “telling” rather than “showing”. Conversations, for example, were often delivered in blocks of narrative prose rather than letting us hear the actual dialogue. Given the themes of the story, this works slightly against the book. Having said that, the story is still atmospheric, intriguing, and pulls off a great denouement.
Jonathon T. Cross is establishing himself rapidly as a fine purveyor of cosmic horror fiction that respects the tradition but also adapts it; his work merits a great deal more attention.
You can purchase There’s Something Here From Somewhere Else on Amazon: