“Dagon” is one of H.P. Lovecraft’s earliest stories, often thought to be the precursor to his classic tales “The Call of Cthulhu” and “The Shadow Over Innsmouth”. According to S.T. Joshi1, Lovecraft wrote “Dagon” in July of 1917, following a nine-year hiatus from his earlier attempts at fiction writing. The story was first published in the Vagrant, a publication of the National Amateur Press Association, in November of 1919.
Joshi reports that at least part of the inspiration for “Dagon” came from a nightmare Lovecraft had. Explaining a plot point, Lovecraft is quoted as saying “…the hero-victim is half-sucked into the mire, yet he does crawl! I know, for I dreamed that whole hideous crawl, and can yet feel the ooze sucking me down!”
The story was later published in Weird Tales in October of 1923. L. Sprague DeCamp2, much more critical than Joshi, references a letter Lovecraft wrote to Edwin F. Baird, the magazine’s editor, regarding publication of “Dagon”. The letter exemplified Lovecraft’s attitude toward the writing profession and his self-deprecating view of his work: “I have no idea if these things will be found suitable, for I pay no attention to the demands of commercial writing.”
In his letter he goes on to write: “If the tale cannot be printed as it is written, down to the very last semicolon and comma, it must gracefully accept rejection. Excision by editors is probably the one reason why no living American author has any real prose style…” DeCamp makes the argument throughout his biography that Lovecraft’s haughtiness, “art-for-art’s sake” attitude, and disparagement of his own work made success as a writer almost impossible during his lifetime.
“Dagon” takes place during World War I. The narrator is captured by Germans in the South Pacific but manages to escape in a lifeboat. After drifting at sea, he wakes to find himself marooned on a vast expanse of mud and slime recently heaved to the surface following volcanic activity. He explores this strange terrain and discovers an enormous monolith covered with hieroglyphs and weird imagery, including that of humanoid fish-like creatures.
No big surprise: he is then horrified later to see a giant, living version of one of the carvings, emerging from a nearby pool of water. He flees, barely retaining his sanity, and is later rescued by an American ship. He is taken to San Fransisco, where he convalesces in a hospital.
But he is not safe there for he knows that the horror will follow him. He relies on morphine to deaden the fear and memory of what he saw. Almost as an afterthought, he “…sought out a celebrated ethnologist, and amused him with peculiar questions regarding the ancient Philistine legend of Dagon, the Fish-God…” He anticipates a day “when they may rise above the billows to drag down in their reeking talons the remnants of puny, war exhausted mankind…”
Joshi appreciated this early effort of Lovecraft’s; “Dagon” contains the germ of several themes Lovecraft developed later in his work: the antiquity of earth, the existence of still viable remnants of ancient civilizations hidden in remote locations, the shattering effect of knowledge. Readers of Lovecraft will also recognize the paranoia and preoccupation with eldritch worship of the Great Old Ones, a common motif in later stories.
It’s not clear how much Lovecraft based his pantheon of Great Old Ones on biblical sources—he was, after all, officially atheist and disdainful of conventional piety. DeCamp reports that Lovecraft attended Baptist Sunday school at age five, where he alarmed his instructor by taking the side of the lions against the Christians. At any rate, his later “cosmicism” would likely not mix well with comforting thoughts of humanity being the “crown of creation”3 .
Yet readers will observe in several of Lovecraft’s stories references to circles of stones on hilltops and appalling liturgical practices among secretive cults—similar references are made in the Old Testament in such books as Leviticus, Deuteronomy, Judges, and 2nd Kings, among others. Dagon is often mentioned here and with good reason: he was an earlier competitor of Jehovah, well established in Canaan and ancient Mesopotamia, and a challenge for the ancient Israelites as they migrated into the “Promised Land”.
Though he doesn’t get much good press, Dagon figures in several well-known bible stories. In the final moments of Samson’s life, he destroys a temple of Dagon by pulling it down on top of himself and the Philistines gathered there. When the Israelites lose a battle against the Philistines, the latter steal the Ark of the Covenant and put it in their temple next to an idol of Dagon. The next day they discover that the statue of Dagon has been knocked over and its head and hands broken off—hmmmm. It’s possible that Goliath, the Philistine giant whom David killed with his slingshot, was a worshipper of Dagon.
Though not emphasized in the story “Dagon”, Lovecraft’s horror of miscegenation—of interbreeding with other races and ethnicities, mixing with other cultures—is also a preoccupation in Old Testament passages. Lovecraft was never a champion of cultural diversity, and neither were the ancient Israelites.
But the real Dagon may not have been a Philistine fish-god at all. Though he was the national god of the Philistines and worshipped in their cities along the Mediterranean coast, he may have been an import or an adopted god who was worshipped throughout northern Syria and Mesopotamia, from the Early Bronze Age to the beginning of the Iron Age. Dagon was connected with fertility, agriculture, and grain, especially corn.4 His worship was also related to prosperity and royal legitimacy. He was also considered a “father of gods”.
Some scholars suspect that the similarity of Dagon’s name to the Hebrew word for fish may have led to early confusion. Dagon also resembles words in cotemporaneous languages for “grain” or “cloudy”. So, it seems likely that the notion that Dagon had anything to do with the sea is erroneous. He was very much a land-based deity.
The error was not H.P. Lovecraft’s fault. Dagon as “fish-god” was a misinterpretation carried forward from Medieval scholarship and not detected until the early twentieth century. It is the fault of history—too much time—and time enough—for us eventually to get things wrong. To paraphrase the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred: “That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even the facts may die.”
Lovecraft created a new egregore in his fiction, perhaps fashioned out of his revulsion to ocean creatures. Dagon became Cthulhu, Ashdod became Innsmouth. What if Lovecraft had known the truth about Dagon? What horror might he have imagined if Cthulhu had arisen from the land instead of the sea?
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1I Am Providence, by S.T. Joshi, (2013).
2Lovecraft, A Biography, by L. Sprague DeCamp, (1975)
3Genesis 1:26—“Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’”
4A reader correctly points out that “corn” in this sense is a generic term for grain, not the New World plant that we know today. Lovecraft famously detested sea food and perhaps ocean-based life-forms in general, which may explain why his monsters are often amorphous, polypus, tentacular entities. I’m not sure how he felt about corn.