The King in Yellow

I pray God will curse the writer, as the writer has cursed the world with this beautiful, stupendous creation, terrible in its simplicity, irresistible in its truth – a world which now trembles before The King in Yellow. (Page 3)

The King in Yellow, a fictional book mentioned in the pages of its real book namesake written by Robert W. Chambers, is an artifact of which a small portion is seen directly by the reader.  The excerpts speak of a strange land and mystical presence that speaks to the end of the world, or rather the changing of it into some new, unspeakable form.  It sounds like thousands of bits of fiction of its kind, or rather they all sound like it, given the published date of 1895 and known influence on HP Lovecraft.  Like Lovecraft’s best work, the King in Yellow deals in glimpses and hints of something larger, a sinister thing off-screen and arriving soon.  Also like Lovecraft’s best work, the depth of the madness, of the human inability to comprehend its contents is shown primarily through the reaction of characters to the work instead of the work itself.

 It could not be judged by any known standard, yet, although it was acknowledged that the supreme note of art had been struck in The King in Yellow, all felt that human nature could not bear the strain, nor thrive on words in which the essence of purest poison lurked. The very banality and innocence of the first act only allowed the blow to fall afterward with more awful effect. (Page 3)

 Chambers uses ambiguity twice the above paragraph to generate something in the reader that a thousand tangible descriptions can’t do – a personalized version of terror.  The phrase ‘it could not be judged by any known standard’ creates a wide space for the reader to fill with their own highest standards of art and literature (and then have this book exceed it).  Even a tangible comparison invoking say the bible’s Book of Revelations wouldn’t achieve the same level of personal awe achieved by leaving the comparison to the reader.  In the same vein, referring to the power of the second act compared to the first provides another cavern for the reader to fill with their own sense of art, of fear and majesty.

 “The ambition of Caesar and of Napoleon pales before that which could not rest until it had seized the minds of men and controlled even their unborn thoughts,” said Mr. Wilde.

“You are speaking of the King in yellow,” I groaned, with a shudder. (Page 10)

Chambers brings out tangible comparisons for this reference to the fictional Yellow, referencing Caesar and Napoleon.  In this case I feel the tangible names work, as a generic reference to conquerors and generals leaves too much to the imagination and perhaps shows a lack of historical knowledge.  To compare the King in Yellow to history’s most-known conquerors elevates the importance of the work and its gravity to both the narrator and reader.

Given that, I find the narrator’s reaction more interesting than the comparison.  With minimal information, the narrator has sussed out that his counterpart speaks of a book that haunts him, and therefore that this person shares his horrors (Again the reader is free to fill the horrors in).  The narrator also feels dread, as the mention of Yellow elicits a groan and shudder.  The mystique of the book grows with each reference, each person who speaks of it in reverent tones and each adverse reaction.

 “Have you never read it?” I asked.

“I? No, thank God!  I don’t want to be driven crazy.” (Page 19)

The second line, spoken by a different character than in the previous excerpt, adds another layer of tension while also introducing the idea of madness.  The first section of the book is delivered in a reliable fashion by the narrator and in fact begins with a darker, alternative world history that sets the landscape for this fictional world.  Only beginning here do hints of madness begin, and the line above does two things: (1) adds another layer to the growing mystique of the fictional King in Yellow and (2) floats the idea that the narrator may not be that reliable.  This dissonance carries through the story and gets more amplified the further we proceed in this short story, when the narrator commits murder and is committed to an asylum.

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

I was furious.  What did he mean by that?  (Page 59)

I was worn out by three nights of physical suffering and mental trouble: the last had been the worst, and it was an exhausted body, and a mind benumbed and yet acutely sensitive, which I had brought to my favourite church for healing.  For I had been reading The King in Yellow.   (page 100)

There are other examples through the first four short stories that amplify the fictional book’s growing grip on humanity, two of which are above (from separate stories and separate characters.  In the first example another bit of the book’s mythology, the ‘yellow sign’ gets mentioned in revered tones, this time from a secondary character.  While the narrator is oblivious here, the other character expects awareness of such a sign, as it is sure to initiate further discussion and action.  The second quote shows the effect of the book’s reading on another character – physical suffering, mental trouble, a numb yet sensitive mind.  Again, the book itself is not present – just its effects on its readers/

Left out of these quotes is a final thought that strikes me in reading these four short stories over 100+ pages – how infrequent the King in Yellow gets mentioned.  It is common to go five and ten pages between references to the titular book, and its mentions are less prevalent than they seem.  To me, this shows how strong the impact can be of a few well-timed phrases be, as well as the impact of a few reactions of characters to the object, whether in direct responses to stimuli or in the continuity of their own thoughts.