LWLost Worlds (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1944).

MHS Donald Wandrei Papers, Minnesota Historical Society.

ODOther Dimensions (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1970).

OSTOut of Space and Time (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1942).

PDPlanets and Dimensions: Collected Essays. Ed. Charles K. Wolfe (Baltimore: Mirage Press, 1973).

PPPoems in Prose (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1965).

RAA Rendezvous in Averoigne (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1988).

RHB Robert H. Barlow (1918-1951), correspondent and collector of manuscripts of CAS, HPL, and other WT writers.

RW Red World of Polaris. Ed. Ronald S. Hilger and Scott Connors (San Francisco: Night Shade Books, 2003).

SHSW August Derleth Papers, State Historical Society of Wisconsin Library.

SL Selected Letters of Clark Ashton Smith. Ed. David E. Schultz and Scott Connors (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 2003).

SSStrange Shadows: The Uncollected Fiction and Essays of Clark Ashton Smith. Ed. Steve Behrends with Donald Sidney-Fryer and Rah Hoffman (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1989).

ST Strange Tales of Mystery and Terror, a pulp edited by Harry Bates in competition with WT.

TSSTales of Science and Sorcery (Sauk City, WI: Arkham House, 1964).

VA A Vintage from Atlantis: The Collected Fantasies of Clark Ashton Smith, Volume Three. Ed. Scott Connors and Ron Hilger (San Francisco: Night Shade Books, 2007).

WS Wonder Stories, a pulp published by Hugo Gernsback and edited first by David Lasser and then Charles D. Hornig.

WTWeird Tales, Smith’s primary market for fiction, edited by FW (1924-1940) and later Dorothy McIlwraith (1940-1954).

The Mandrakes

Smith completed “The Mandrakes” on May 15, 1932, describing it as “short, sweet & medieval. It’s about a sorcerer who murdered his wife and buried her in the field where he got the mandrakes for the love-philtres in which he specialized. Later, something happened to the mandrake-crop….”¹ He would later describe it as “not a very important item.”²

Weird Tales paid Smith $25 when it published the story in its February 1933 issue.³ The check was returned to Smith as unpaid when the Fletcher-American Bank, where the bulk of the funds of WT’s parent Popular Fiction Publishing Company were deposited, had its assets frozen. Smith would not receive any monies for this tale until August, and even then WT only paid half. WT, which had paid reasonably promptly on publication up to this point, would take longer and longer to pay for stories.⁴

1. CAS, letter to AWD, May 15, 1932 (SL 177).

2. CAS, letter to AWD, December 13, 1932 (ms, SHSW).

3. Popular Fiction Publishing Company, letters to CAS, February 23, 1933; April 13, 1933; August 29, 1933 (ms, JHL).

4. See Scott Connors, “Weird Tales and the Great Depression,” in The Robert E. Howard Reader, ed. Darrell Schweitzer (Wildside Press, forthcoming).

The Beast of Averoigne

The first intimation of what would eventually evolve into “The Beast of Averoigne” may perhaps be found in a plot outline that Clark Ashton Smith tentatively called “The Werewolf of Averoigne:” “A terrible, semi-human thing—the progeny of a sorceress and a demon—which terrorizes the wood of Averoigne.”¹ Sometime after this, Smith jotted down an idea with the present title that fleshed out the core idea of an unknown predator terrorizing the forests, but which provided a wholly ultramundane origin:

The depredations of a fearsome beast, beginning near a Nestorian monastery in the hills of Averoigne during a year of comets, meteors, and {. . . }. First p. of narrative is a deposition by one of the N. monks. It ends abruptly, through the death of the monk at the hands of this beast. Other people are slain by the monster; and finally the aid of the sorcerer is invoked against it. Through the skill of this sorcerer, the beast is tracked to the Nestorian monastery, is cornered in the cell of the abbot, and when a certain magic water is sprinkled upon it, is revealed as the abbot himself. Amid the horror of the beholders, the abbot flees to the wilderness. He is seen again in the form of the beast but is prevented from re-entering the monastery. After the passing of the comet, the depredations cease, and he is found dead in his own form.

²

Smith completed the story on June 18, 1932. He submitted the story to Weird Tales, confident that its “cumulative horror” would find favor with the sometimes capricious Farnsworth Wright. Much to Smith’s surprise, “Wright returned ‘The Beast of Averoigne,’ with no specific criticism, merely saying that he didn’t like it as well as my other medieval stories.” This rejection appears to have shaken Smith’s self-confidence, since he asked Derleth “to look it over with an idea to structural or other flaws. Personally, I don’t quite see why it was rejected, unless the documentary mode of presentation may have led me into more archaism than was palatable to Wright. The abbot’s letter to Therèse might be cut out, thus deepening the mystery; but I can’t quite make up my mind in this.”³ Derleth responded

As you hinted, the tale is I feel much too diffuse, and I would suggest telling the entire story from the point of view of Luc le Chaudronnier. This part held my best attention, while I felt that the others dragged slightly. If, however, you insist upon using the two other depositions, why you can use them nicely enough by inserting them directly into Luc’s narrative, as if he had come upon them as here fitting the unusual facts together. It is, of course, no secret in your version as to whom the beast will turn out to be. This should be covered up just a little more, though I realize that you have done very well with it as it is. I was at first very much against the comet business, but have come to see that it is very vital indeed, and contributes much to the plot; so of course it must be kept, though it might be somewhat soft-pedalled (merely my personal reaction, and in no sense of the word a criticism). I feel that if you open with Luc’s narrative, shorten the other two depositions and include them as presented by Luc, and then continue with Luc’s story, the tale as a whole will be immeasurably tightened.

⁴

Smith took some time the next month to rework a few of Wright’s rejects and incorporated Derleth’s suggestions into “Beast.” He eliminated fourteen hundred words by cutting “the abbot’s letter entirely and [he] told Gerome’s tale in Luc le Chaudronnier’s words. I think the result is rather good—terse, grim and devilishly horrible.”⁵ Much to Smith’s growing frustration, Wright once more rejected the tale, “though admitting that the tale had much to recommend it. The tale seems a marvel of originality, by comparison with most of the hackneyed junk he has been printing lately.” Smith added in exasperation, “I give it up.”⁶ This proved somewhat premature, since that autumn he reworked several previously rejected stories including “Beast,” reducing it to “a mere four thousand words and adding “a more dramatic twist at the climax.”⁷ This effort was rewarded by an acceptance, proving third time the charm.

The present version of “The Beast of Averoigne” restores the tripartite organization of the story, eliminating the redundant portions of Luc le Chaudronnier’s narrative while keeping the revised climax. Smith did write that he thought the story was “immensely improved by the various revisions.” This would argue that the version published in the May 1933 issue of Weird Tales should be given preference. However, the present editors believe that Smith’s preference extended chiefly to the new ending, since Smith may have felt that the ending of the original version was too reminiscent of “The Colossus of Ylourgne.” Stefan Dziemianowicz has observed of this revision that “By merging these three viewpoints into the single perspective of le Chaudronnier, Smith created a story that appealed more to Wright...but wound up purging it of the elements that make it one of his most extraordinary pieces of writing.” Derleth’s suggestions were all aimed at making a more salable story, not necessarily a better one. They concern chiefly plot, but as Smith once blithely remarked to Lovecraft, “Few of my stories, I fear, exhibit what is known in pulpdom as a ‘plot’.”⁸ In particular, Derleth appears to have felt that the identity of the monster should have been more of a mystery, whereas we believe that Smith intended the climax to be one of confirmation rather than of revelation. This is apparent from the abbot’s final plea to his sister, which Dziemianowicz properly calls “one of the most poignant passages to be found in all Smith’s writing: ‘Pray for me, Therèse, in my bewitchment and my despair: for God has abandoned me, and the yoke of hell has somehow fallen upon me; and naught can I do to defend the abbey from this evil’.”⁹ When the tale appeared finally in print, Smith told Derleth that “I think that I have done better tales, but few that are technically superior.”¹⁰