Page:Weird Tales Volume 23 Number 2 (1934-02).djvu/126

Smith. He excels in that particular which makes the weird tale weird—atmosphere. His seemingly unlimited vocabulary, combined with his uncanny feeling for the use of adjectives, never fails to create a sense of being cast adrift from the palpable world on every side. In this difficult art he excels Poe. And I must add my vote to the already overwhelming majority in favor of Seabury Quinn and the inimitable Jules de Grandin. Hail to Shambleau, by C. L. Moore, in the November issue. That is a tale which stands out as a fit companion to any of the classics of weird literature. In the December issue I pick King Cobra, by Joseph O. Kesselring, as winner by three lengths. I don't care for serials; their disconnected episodes fail to sustain that atmosphere so necessary to the weird tale."

E. L. Mengshoel, of Minneapolis, writes to the Eyrie: "My hearty compliments for your December issue. It ends the year's publication with a real acme number, and deserves applause. In the whole issue there is not a single unfascinating story, and some of the tales are spellbinders. I am indeed at a loss how to point out any single one as the 'best' and the 'next best,' because every one seems the 'best,' each in its own peculiar way. I might say, however, that Donald Wandrei's The Lady in Gray had a weirdness that was particularly 'goose-fleshy' in its gruesome materializing dreams. Frank Owen's The Ox-Cart presented weirdness with poetic beauty. The resourceful Seabury Quinn in his Red Gauntlets of Czerni shows his 'weird' familiarity with the characters of widely different nationalities and at the same time delights us with again meeting that precious Monsieur Jules, whose original bon-mots and hyperboles, ludicrous oaths and droll expressions are no less fascinating than his stunts in occultism. And all the rest of the stories, too many to mention, were real thrillers."

J. D. Arden, of Detroit, writes to the Eyrie: "Thanks for the Frank Owen story in the current Weird Tales. It has been a long time since we have had something from Mr. Owen's masterly pen. I shall never forget his exquisite little Chinese fantasies—The Blue City, The Purple Sea, and The Tinkle of the Camel's Bell. These are real classics. The cover is a beauty and in keeping with the Yuletide. That red candle does it. This time Mr. Brundage must surely satisfy everybody—except those naughty nudists who prefer naked women on the cover. Just so we won't have to hear any more cheers and groans in the Eyrie regarding the covers, I suggest that you have our puzzled Mr. Brundage draw three covers each month: a nice cover, a naughty cover, and a bad cover. The nice covers would portray only ladies with all their clothes on; the naughty covers would be sort of Mae Westish—partly clothed; and last but not least, the bad cover, which would have the ladies pictured without any clothes on. This arrangement would satisfy everybody, and no one would have cause to complain. He or she would simply have to buy Weird Tales with the type of cover he or she prefers."

"The stories in Weird Tales of late have been so uniformly good that I have hesitated to pick out any particular one as especially deserving of praise, and there has been little to condemn," writes George N. Heflick, of Mantua, Ohio. "I am taking the liberty, however, of entering into two or three of the controversies that the Eyrie has been featuring recently. First, the question of interplanetary stories. I enjoy a good story of this type very much, and should be sorry indeed to see them entirely