Ligotti Interview in Subterranean Magazine #1 - THE NIGHTMARE NETWORK

ligotti.net by Thomas Ligotti March 21, 2014

Interviewed by Tim Lehnerer

From Subterranean Magazine #1
Conducted in 2005

Thomas Ligotti has been hailed as the direct literary successor of dark luminaries
such as Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft. He spins tales of shifting identities, the
loss of self, and the realization that the universe is a mad, uncaring clockwork that
can shatter the minds of the unfortunate. Hes also polite, well-spoken, and much
more kind to novice interviewers than he has to be.

Lehnerer: What made you first want to become a writer?

Ligotti: Probably what most made me want to write is the same thing that made me
want to be in a rock band. I had listened to popular songs on the radio from the time
I was seven years old. This was around 1960, which gives you some idea of the kind
of stuff that was pouring into my head for the next several years: Motown, teen-idol
ballads, the occasional instrumental hit, novelty tunes. I liked most of it, but none of
it made me want to pick up an instrument. Even seeing people like Del Shannon and
Roy Orbison on American Bandstand didnt do that. Then I saw the Beatles on Ed
Sullivan. Subsequently I went nuts like everyone else. The next day I was taking
guitar lessons. But it wasnt as if the Beatles triggered some latent desire in me to
be a maker of music, or rather an imitator of other peoples music. I had been
listening to their songs on the radio for about a year before I saw them on
television. I liked the Beach Boys far more than the Beatles, and in fact I never did
become a Beatles fan. Never bought any of their albums. Nevertheless, after seeing
them on TV I wanted to be a guitar player in a band, which I in fact became until
about the age of 16. I think that seeing the Beatles made me desire to be a part of
the scene that was developing around that time. And I suppose I though that being
a guitar player in a band allowed me to participate more deeply and intensely in
that scene and to identify more closely with its principal figures. Later I lost myself

in other second-hand identities borrowed from my idols in pop music, especially Zal
Yanovsky, the guitar player for the Lovin Spoonful, and Eric Clapton.

What led me to be a horror writer, the thing that served as the literary counterpart
of the experience of seeing the Beatles on television, was reading the works of H.P.
Lovecraft when I was eighteen. I had already read The Haunting of Hill House by
Shirley Jackson and a collection of stories by Arthur Machen. The writings of those
authors made me want to read more horror fiction, and shortly afterward I came
across the Ballantine edition of Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, which was issued in two
mass-market paperback volumes in the early seventies. These volumes not only
included stories by Lovecraft but also stories written in emulation of Lovecraft,
revealing that he was not just an isolated horror writer like Jackson or Machen - he
was also the center of a whole horror scene. At that time in my life, the possibility of
being part of that scene held tremendous appeal for me. I suddenly wanted not only
to read horror stories but also to be a horror writer, specifically a horror writer in the
mold of Lovecraft himself, which was the closest I could get to altering universal
history and by some twisted transposition of identities and manipulation of time and
space actually be the deceased horror writer H.P. Lovecraft.

I cant believe I spewed out such a lengthy and tedious response to such a simple
question. I could have simply answered: I wanted to write horror stories as part of a
lifelong pattern of imitating people whose identities and reputations I coveted. Later
in my life I doubled-back to have another shot at identifying with and attempting to
emulate rock musicians, but that never worked out nearly as well as the horror
thing.

Lehnerer: What do you consider to be the most successful story that youve written
(by whatever terms you care to define success)? Conversely, what is the least
successful on in your mind?

Ligotti: I think of The Shadow at the Bottom of the World as my most successful
story in the sense that my ideal as a horror writer has been to create narratives that
dont employ the standard conventions of supernatural fiction, such as devils,
ghosts, vampires, monsters and the like, while at the same time still conforming to
the essential mood of the genre, or at least what I believe should be the essential
mood of the genre - that of the nightmare, in which horror arises from the most
enigmatic and inexplicable sources. My least successful story, in my opinion, is The
Frolic, which is just the opposite of The Shadow at the Bottom of the World. In

The Frolic I set out deliberately and cold-bloodedly to perpetrate that standard
gimmick of horror fiction: creating realistic characters whose everyday world gets
turned inside out by the intrusion of some supernatural menace. I did this because it
was what everyone else was doing, and I was dying to have a story published,
which hadnt happened up to that point. Later I did something similar with a short
novel called My Work Is Not Yet Done, although I didnt take it quite as far into the
realm of conventional fiction as I had at first intended. My original plan was to write
a full-length novel, something around one-hundred-thousand words with all kinds of
digressions away from the central horror themes that would take the reader into the
principal characters personal lives, offer recherch realism having to do with the
setting of the novel in modern-day Detroit, police procedure, and so on, as well as
provide various parallel plots and subplots, including romantic ones featuring
entanglements. When I looked at my outline and notes for this projected book, I
thought, I really hate this. So I restructured the whole thing into something that I
could live with. As it is, I watered down my customarily dense prose style. And the
surface plot is a fairly conventional revenge tale. But beneath that I buried my usual
life-as-a-nightmare outlook, so I wasnt completely miserable about the way the
story turned out.

Lehnerer: Do you read for pleasure? If you do, what do you tend to read for
enjoyment (novels, screenplays, short stories, poetry)?

Ligotti: Ive always read for distraction rather than pleasure, although the distinction
probably doesnt mean much to anyone but me. For some years, I really havent
read much at all. When I do read, its usually something in the way of philosophy,
psychology, anthropology. Not long ago I read a book called Landscapes of Fear by
Yi-Fu Tuan, which is essentially a geographical history of fear in human life. For a
while I took and interest in the field of neuro- studies - neuropsychology,
neurophilosophy, neurotheology, etc. There was a fascinating book published in
2003 by the German neurophilosopher Thomas Metzinger called Being No One.
Metzingers basic premise is the same as that of Buddhism - the self is an illusion.
He calls this fiction we construct of ourselves a phenomenal self-model and has a
highly technical neurological explanation of how the illusion that we exist as
enduring, unchanging personalities came to be, whereas a Buddhist would simply
say that we are deluded, asleep, living in a dream from which we must wake up or
suffer. Metzinger says that its impossible to disabuse ourselves of our bogus sense
of reality as it applies to ourselves, other people, and the world itself. This fits in well
with my own ideas and experience with respect to the integrity and reality of the socalled self and the so-called world, a theme that forms the basis for a number of my
horror stories. As for fiction and that sort of thing, I have to admit that Im not very
well read when it comes to literature as such. So much of whats considered great

literature is in my view just well-written soap opera and really isnt worth the
eyestrain. I mean, if I want to be entertained by a story about love and crime, Id
rather watch a movie like Casino than The Great Gatsby. Theyre both soap operas.
By the same token, if I want to be roused by a soap operatic tale of an up-andcoming gangster who kills his boss, takes over the business, and ends ups getting
killed himself in the end, Ill rent a copy of Scarface - the version with Al Pacino - as
opposed to reading Macbeth. During the time when I read a great deal, my interest
was almost exclusively in authors whose works expressed the same kind of
pessimism, fatalism, nihilism, whatever you want to call it, that characterizes my
own writing. There arent that many writers who fall into this category, at least
according to my standards, so I ran out of authors a while ago. There are plenty of
writers who have what critics often call a dark vision, but anyone who isnt a
complete moron is going to have a dark vision. There arent too many Edgar Guests
in the history of literature. The only question is whether or not these writers
ultimately provide themselves and their reader with some kind of redemptive or
affirmative way out, which is something almost every writer does. Vladimir Nabokov
is a good example. While his fiction does in fact cast a cold and clear eye on the
pain and madness of human life, he holds out to the reader a carrot of
transcendence dangling at the end of the stick of art, with a capital A. Other
writers who are considered dark will sneak into their works the promise or
possibility of salvation by religious faith. Flannery OConnor and Dostoevsky are
outstanding examples of this practice. All of these authors are of course geniuses,
and their works are well worth reading for their brilliance of technique and sincere
passion. H.P. Lovecraft is a complete literary clod when compared with authors on
the level of Nabokov, OConnor, and Dostoevsky. But Lovecraft tells me the grim
facts of life as I myself have perceived them. And, for a horror writer, the artistry of
his works is exceptional.

Lehnerer: If you hadnt discovered Lovecraft and wanted to become a writer, what
do you think would have happened with your life?

Ligotti: Well, the only reason I began reading at all, which I hadnt done much of
before I was eighteen, was that I had a nervous breakdown following a bad acid trip
and afterward couldnt take drugs any more. I was definitely on a course to
becoming a habitual substance abuser, and thats probably where Id be now,
assuming I lived this long. I dont count my consumption of tranquilizers and antidepressants as drug abuse, since theyre prescribed by a doctor and, more to the
point, I dont become euphoric when I take them. After I couldnt take drugs or drink
alcohol anymore, reading, and later writing, became my substitute forms of
escapism. Unfortunately, reading and writing arent nearly as effective forms of
escape as drugs and booze, but you have to take what you can get in this life. I

never understood the slogan about a mind being a terrible thing to waste. I think a
human mind is a fine thing to waste. Im being self-consciously provocative here,
and elsewhere in this interview, in a pathetic and perhaps not entirely successful
attempt to entertainment both myself and whoever might read these words. At the
same time, the views that Ive expressed are, I feel, as valid as any others, and I
didnt just make them up on the spur of the moment, although Ive enhanced them
a bit. I dont expect to be considered a credible source on any subject. Like most of
the writers Ive admired, I expect to be dismissed, ignored, and relegated to
kookdom by the majority of persons who even bother to take notice of me to begin
with.

Lehnerer: Is there a parallel world Thomas Ligotti who became a stockbroker?

Ligotti: Probably. To paraphrase John Hustons character in the movie Chinatown,

Most people never have to face the fact that in the right time, the right place,
theyre capable of anything. I suppose that would include being a stockbroker. Like
everyone else, I was born a mass of flesh just waiting to act on what had been
inscribed into my genetic programming and external conditioning. People might
have a sense that they have some kind of destiny or mission in this life. I have
myself. But thats all just nonsense. G.W. Bush said that he thought God wanted him
to become president. Hitler, not a religious man, thought that he was appointed
savior of the Aryna race. And thats just the really obvious junk that some people
tell themselves. Then theres the sad stuff we think, such as, After all Ive suffered,
I deserve some happiness in this life. What could be more deluded? While Im on
this attention-deficit ramble, Id like to expose an often-spoken piece of total
insanity. Despite what youve been told to the contrary - the world really does owe
you a living. Human reproduction is celebrated and applauded in almost every
society. Since everyone take the plaudits for bringing another bag of bones and
chemicals into this - to put it politely - imperfect world, they should be prepared to
provide for this creature throughout the term of its existence. I cant think of
anything that makes more sense. Of course, no one is willing to be that sensible.

Lehnerer: Your works have been adapted into roleplaying games as well as music by
Current 93. What do you consider to be the most successful adaptation of your
stories?

Ligotti: Well, there havent been many adaptations of my stuff in other media.
Theres an unproduced screenplay based on The Last Feast of Harlequin that I co-

wrote [with Brendan Trenz-ed.] if you want to count that among the billions of other
unproduced and unremunerative screenplay adaptations in the world. David Lynch
optioned the novella. Also, a guy named Luke Reese once adapted my story Dr.
Voke and Mr. Veech as an opera, which, needless to say, was not produced. We
corresponded on the libretto. That was kind of fun at the time.

Lehnerer: Have you ever read/seen something that made you think That lucky
bastard. I wish Id thought of that first, and if so, what was it?

Ligotti: Ive never thought, I wish Id thought of that. Stories that come about by
means of mere narrative permutation, that pre-exist in some way as generic good
ideas just waiting for someones brain to bump into them, dont interest me in the
least. An example of that kind of story is Interview with the Vampire, which was a
very good idea indeed. But it didnt bother me in the least that I didnt think of it
first. The kinds of stories that do interest me are those whose origins appear entirely
mysterious, that leave me thinking, Where the hell did that come from! Im not
talking about surrealist texts that just present quirky images and incidents one after
the other until they just come to an end, leaving the reader with no sense of a
coherent sensibility from which that story emanated. Im thinking more of stories
like The Fall of the House of Usher, which actually doesnt make much sense on a
literal level and doesnt have a neat plot that can be summarized in a sentence or
two, but which does convey the feel of a nightmare as well as expressing the
potently grim consciousness of its author, which is another quality I demand in a
horror story. Even the fact that Poe ripped off the basic scenario of Usher from a
story by E.T.A. Hoffman doesnt diminish its strangeness and power. Most of
Hoffmans stories are long and lame and incredibly boring. Even the translator of
the Penguin edition of the German authors tales admits to trimming some of them
down to make them more palatable. Poes best stories display no such excess.

Lehnerer: You can wish three people into the cornfield. Who gets sent?

Ligotti: Now were trying to tap into my small-minded and mean-spirited impulses.
What Id like to do is to annihilate or unmake the universe, as well as ensure that it
could never come back into being. That would be big-minded and compassionate.
Wishing three people into the cornfield isnt really going to do anything but provide
me with some vicious and fleeting satisfaction. Nothing would essentially change
about the creation. But since you askedGeez, there are so many. My personal
animosities have been on the wane in the past few years, and there would be no

point in mentioning people that no one has heard of or will ever hear of. In the world
of historical and current events, there are so many slimeballs that I wouldnt really
want to honor any particular individual for transport to the cornfield. On an abstract
level, my top candidates would be the first king, the first priest, and the first soldier.
But lets look at the really big picture. Historians often divide the progress of
humankind into three great movements, and I despise the innovators of each of
them. The first movement was that of agriculture. So victim number one, and the
cornfield is such an appropriate fate for this villain, would be the first farmer whoever was the first bastard, some claim bitch, to say Hey, lets settle down in
one spot and work ourselves from sunrise to sundown digging in the ground.
Hunting and gathering is no life for a human being. We were meant to sweat and
toil and fret every day of our lives until we drop dead. And thats what were going
to do. Then, just when people started to find farming a tolerable way of life though also one that set up the second movement in human history, i.e.
industrialism - along comes some other prick jumping up and down, shouting,
Factories! Lets make stuff out of stuff. That is to say, you will make stuff out of
stuff, and Ill pay you as little as I have to while you breathe noxious fumes and lose
yourself in a daily grind that will destroy you in mind and body, just like farming
used to. And all the real profits will be reaped by so few people that you wont even
know who we are. Well run the government too. The latest movement, it seems, is
that of computer technology. I would gladly cast into the cornfield the first person probably a Nobel Prize winner - whose existence initiated the deadly march of
computers. I realize that this person might not be directly connected to the
computer business as we know it today. Maybe the inventor of the abacus or the
transistor should get the kick into the cornfield. Honorable mentions for the
cornfield treatment: Prometheus (at least he got what he deserved), Johannes
Gutenberg, and Henry Ford.

Lehnerer: What music do you tend to listen to while writing? Same question, but for
fun?

Ligotti: I cant imagine being able to listen to music and write at the same time.
Actually, I used to find driving a car and writing to be quite compatible activities,
although I didnt make a regular practice of doing this for obvious reasons. For fun, I
used to listen, for the most part, to instrumental guitar music. The Mermen, Pell
Mell, and Bill Friswell were particular favorites. I also liked movie soundtrack music,
especially Ennio Morricone, Angeloa Badalementi, and Jerry Goldsmith. I use the
past tense because for some time Ive been in an anhedonic state, which means
that Im insensible to all emotional pleasure. The great lesson of anhedonia is that
nothing outside of you is inherently compelling on an emotional level. Of course,
this is regarded as a truism, but in truth is not usually taken far enough. The saying

goes that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This is rather nave because it
assumes that something called beauty exists in the outside world, and what a
particular individual holds as beautiful is a peculiarity of taste. The fact is that a
sense of the beautiful is a completely subjective condition. There is no such think as
beauty out there in the world. All that exists is your internal universe, as least as far
as emotion is concerned. Its all association, imagination, and biology. Almost
everyone, lepers and other neurological tragedies excluded, will scream when a
knife is shoved into their flesh. But we dont all scream for ice cream, especially if
were lactose intolerant. Its the same with music, and all the so-called pleasures.
One day they mean the world to you; the next, they mean nothing. In general, its
probably best not to put too much stock in things like music. Youll be less horrified
when they turn to dust. Then again, people will do what they are moved to do, and
if music starts to move one again, theres not much choice but to move with it. As
the writer and Holocaust survivor Primo Levi once said, We have free will. We just
dont have any choices. And Levi threw himself down a stairwell to his death.

Lehnerer: What do you collect?

Ligotti: Im not a collector. I dont understand collectors. I do, however, understand

that all human behavior, including breathing, is irrational. So I guess in that sense I
do understand collectors.

Lehnerer: What do you do to relax?

Ligotti: To relax I take tranquilizers and meditate. If youre asking what I do for
distraction, I watch TV, rent videos, and gamble on jai-alai. Sometimes I read or
write.

Lehnerer: Whats a question youve wanted to be asked in an interview but never

have (and the answer to it)?

Ligotti: Ive never thought about it. And now that I have, I cant really think of
anything that Ive wanted to be asked. Even if there were such a question I probably
wouldnt admit it, since that would betray a degree of egoism and a penchant for
preachiness that Id rather not flaunt any more than I already have.