H.P. Lovecraft. Polaris
Polaris
by H. P. Lovecraft
Written 1918
Published December 1920 in The Philosopher, Vol. 1, No. 1 , p. 3-5.
Into the North Window of my chamber glows the Pole Star with uncanny
light. All through the long hellish hours of blackness it shines there.
And in the autumn of the year, when the winds from the north curse and
whine, and the red-leaved trees of the swamp mutter things to one another
in the small hours of the morning under the horned waning moon, I sit by
the casement and watch that star. Down from the heights reels the
glittering Cassiopeia as the hours wear on, while Charles' Wain lumbers up
from behind the vapour-soaked swamp trees that sway in the night wind.
Just before dawn Arcturus winks ruddily from above the cemetary on the low
hillock, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in the mysterious
east; but still the Pole Star leers down from the same place in the black
vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to
convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a
message to convey. Sometimes, when it is cloudy, I can sleep.
Well do I remember the night of the great Aurora, when over the swamp
played the shocking corruscations of the daemon light. After the beam came
clouds, and then I slept.
And it was under a horned waning moon that I saw the city for the first
time. Still and somnolent did it lie, on a strange plateau in a hollow
between strange peaks. Of ghastly marble were its walls and its towers,
its columns, domes, and pavements. In the marble streets were marble
pillars, the upper parts of which were carven into the images of grave
bearded men. The air was warm and stirred not. And overhead, scarce ten
degrees from the zenith, glowed that watching Pole Star. Long did I gaze
on the city, but the day came not. When the red Aldebaran, which blinked
low in the sky but never set, had crawled a quarter of the way around the
horizon, I saw light and motion in the houses and the streets. Forms
strangely robed, but at once noble and familiar, walked abroad and under
the horned waning moon men talked wisdom in a tongue which I understood,
though it was unlike any language which I had ever known. And when the red
Aldebaran had crawled more than half-way around the horizon, there were
again darkness and silence.
When I awaked, I was not as I had been. Upon my memory was graven the
vision of the city, and within my soul had arisen another and vaguer
recollection, of whose nature I was not then certain. Thereafter, on the
cloudy nights when I could not sleep, I saw the city often; sometimes
under the hot, yellow rays of a sun which did not set, but which wheeled
low in the horizon. And on the clear nights the Pole Star leered as never
before.
Gradually I came to wonder what might be my place in that city on the
strange plateau betwixt strange peaks. At first content to view the scene
as an all-observant uncorporeal presence, I now desired to define my
relation to it, and to speak my mind amongst the grave men who conversed
each day in the public squares. I said to myself, "This is no dream, for
by what means can I prove the greater reality of that other life in the
house of stone and brick south of the sinister swamp and the cemetery on
the low hillock, where the Pole Star peeps into my north window each
night?"
One night as I listened to the discourses in the large square containing
many statues, I felt a change; and perceived that I had at last a bodily
form. Nor was I a stranger in the streets of Olathoe, which lies on the
plateau of Sarkia, betwixt the peaks of Noton and Kadiphonek. It was my
friend Alos who spoke, and his speech was one that pleased my soul, for it
was the speech of a true man and patriot. That night had the news come of
Daikos' fall, and of the advance of the Inutos; squat, hellish yellow
fiends who five years ago had appeared out of the unknown west to ravage
the confines of our kingdom, and to besiege many of our towns. Having
taken the fortified places at the foot of the mountains, their way now lay
open to the plateau, unless every citizen could resist with the strength
of ten men. For the squat creatures were mighty in the arts of war, and
knew not the scruples of honour which held back our tall, grey-eyed men of
Lomar from ruthless conquest.
Alos, my friend, was commander of all the forces on the plateau, and in
him lay the last hope of our country. On this occasion he spoke of the
perils to be faced and exhorted the men of Olathoe, bravest of the
Lomarians, to sustain the traditions of their ancestors, who when forced
to move southward from Zobna before the advance of the great ice sheet
(even as our descendents must some day flee from the land of Lomar)
valiently and victoriously swept aside the hairly, long-armed, cannibal
Gnophkehs that stood in their way. To me Alos denied the warriors part,
for I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to stress
and hardships. But my eyes were the keenest in the city, despite the long
hours I gave each day to the study of the Pnakotic manuscripts and the
wisdom of the Zobnarian Fathers; so my friend, desiring not to doom me to
inaction, rewarded me with that duty which was second to nothing in
importance. To the watchtower of Thapnen he sent me, there to serve as the
eyes of our army. Should the Inutos attempt to gain the citadel by the
narrow pass behind the peak Noton and thereby surprise the garrison, I was
to give the signal of fire which would warn the waiting soldiers and save
the town from immediate disaster.
Alone I mounted the tower, for every man of stout body was needed in the
passes below. My brain was sore dazed with excitement and fatigue, for I
had not slept in many days; yet was my purpose firm, for I loved my native
land of Lomar, and the marble city Olathoe that lies betwixt the peaks
Noton and Kadiphonek.
But as I stood in the tower's topmost chamber, I beheld the horned waning
moon, red and sinister, quivering through the vapours that hovered over
the distant valley of Banof. And through an opening in the roof glittered
the pale Pole Star, fluttering as if alive, and leering like a fiend and
tempter. Methought its spirit whispered evil counsel, soothing me to
traitorous somnolence with a damnable rhythmical promise which it repeated
over and over:
Slumber, watcher, till the spheres,
Six and twenty thousand years
Have revolv'd, and I return
To the spot where now I burn.
Other stars anon shall rise
To the axis of the skies;
Stars that soothe and stars that bless
With a sweet forgetfulness:
Only when my round is o'er
Shall the past disturb thy door.
Vainly did I struggle with my drowsiness, seeking to connect these strange
words with some lore of the skies which I had learnt from the Pnakotic
manuscripts. My head, heavy and reeling, drooped to my breast, and when
next I looked up it was in a dream, with the Pole Star grinning at me
through a window from over the horrible and swaying trees of a dream
swamp. And I am still dreaming.
In my shame and despair I sometimes scream frantically, begging the
dream-creatures around me to waken me ere the Inutos steal up the pass
behind the peak Noton and take the citadel by surprise; but these
creatures are daemons, for they laugh at me and tell me I am not dreaming.
They mock me whilst I sleep, and whilst the squat yellow foe may be
creeping silently upon us. I have failed in my duties and betrayed the
marble city of Olathoe; I have proven false to Alos, my friend and
commander. But still these shadows of my dreams deride me. They say there
is no land of Lomar, save in my nocturnal imaginings; that in these realms
where the Pole Star shines high, and red Aldebaran crawls low around the
horizon, there has been naught save ice and snow for thousands of years of
years, and never a man save squat, yellow creatures, blighted by the cold,
called "Esquimaux."
And as I writhe in my guilty agony, frantic to save the city whose peril
every moment grows, and vainly striving to shake off this unnatural dream
of a house of stone and brick south of a sinister swamp and a cemetery on
a low hillock, the Pole Star, evil and monstrous, leers down from the
black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives
to convey some message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a
message to convey.