Review: Random relevancies in two stories by Beagle and Lovecraft

Yesterday, I happened to hear two podcasts in immediate succession that had some unexpected congruencies. The first was LeVar Burton Reads' rendition of "Mr. McCaslin" by Peter S. Beagle. The second was The Drabblecast's version of "Cool Air" by H.P. Lovecraft. These stories have no relation to each other, yet it turned out that their coincidental pairing drew some interesting highlights. I'm going to give plot summaries for them both, so if you've never read them and want to avoid spoilers, please listen to them first.

I'd never read "Mr. McCaslin," but I'm a longtime fan of Beagle, from his classic fantasy "The Last Unicorn" to other books including "A Fine and Private Place" and "The Innkeeper's Song," to short stories like "Underbridge," about a wandering adjunct professor who has an unusual encounter. Many of his stories involve people in modern times encountering elements of the fantastical. Some of his early stories are a bit callow, like "Lila the Werewolf," but many are richly deep and moving.

In "Mr. McCaslin," some boys in New York City help their cranky old neighbor fend off death, or at least his family's traditional messenger of death, for a few days during a hot summer so that he can get one final task done. The Black Dog is a monstrous creature in Irish legend, but here the Black Terrier is not too terrifying, although unnaturally cold; the boys are actually able to catch it and confine it in their apartments until it eventually escapes and carries out its psychopompic role. Afterward, the narrator grows into a man, and occasionally thinks he hears the terrier's claws clicking nearby, although he's not too bothered by it.

As for "Cool Air," I had read it before, along with many other Lovecraft stories. I think all of his works are nominally set in the real, modern world (well, modern in the 1920s and '30s), although there are eerie and horrific things happening. But since he loved archaica and history, and many of his stories contained references to shadows from the past, along with his blatantly racist and classist attitudes, they tend to feel even older. (For a modern sequel to this story, from the perspective of the Mexican landlady's family, you may want to listen to Pseudopod's reading of "Bitter Perfume" by Laura Blackwell.)

"Cool Air" is actually one of his most modern-feeling stories, as one of its most prominent features is the futuristic (for the 1920s) air conditioner that keeps a New York City brownstone apartment cold during a heat wave. The narrator, who lives in the apartment below, is annoyed by an ammonia leak from upstairs, but later has a heart attack and is helped by that upstairs neighbor, Dr. Muñoz. When the doctor's air conditioner breaks, the narrator tries hard to get it repaired, but is too late; he makes the horrifying discovery that his neighbor had died years ago and had been keeping his apartment cool to keep himself from decaying. Afterward, any "draught of cool air" leaves the narrator shuddering with horror.

So, each story is set in New York City during a heat wave, each one is narrated by a helpful (or would-be helpful) neighbor, and each one involves someone trying to delay death (or its results). However, the tone of each is very different.

In "Mr. McCaslin," the boys are friends and part of a vibrant community. Their neighbor may be a cranky old guy, but he's THEIR cranky old guy. The boys work together to fulfill their pledge to help him for a few days, so he's able to write a letter to his daughter (it takes him a long time because he's not used to writing to her, but he needs to tell her something), and then finally to let the Black Terrier in, and be at peace when he dies. Despite being about death, the story is actually fairly lighthearted and hopeful.

In "Cool Air," the narrator, a writer, is isolated and rather contemptuous of most of the immigrant residents of his building, and he and Dr. Muñoz are drawn together partly because they feel superior to their fellows. Although the doctor has harmed nobody, and helped many before he deteriorated too much, the other neighbors and workers who come to the apartment become so terrified or disgusted that they refuse to help (and won't even deliver ice), so the doctor's end is lonely and awfully pathetic. (His long fight against death is apparently for no other reason than that he doesn't want to die, which is reasonable but not exactly altruistic.) The writer's lingering horror implies that he's sorry he ever got involved, or at least that he's sorry he found out the truth.

According to "The Cool Air" narrator, "the abnormal always excites aversion, distrust and fear." This may be sadly true of much of humanity, and certainly of Lovecraft. However, I much prefer Beagle's vision of people who take an oddity like a supernatural death dog in stride and focus on the task of being good neighbors, with no regrets. 

I was pleased to hear during LeVar Burton Reads' podcast that Beagle will have a new book coming out in 2024. I'm Afraid You've Got Dragons is about someone who hates the exterminating job that he inherited, and finds himself dragged into royal complications. It was originally supposed to be published in 2008 or so, but that publication deal fell through; now it's getting a new chance. Good luck to it and to Beagle!