Lovecraft's praise of Frankenstein turns caveat with: "...despite its more or less mechanical plot and clumsy epistolary form." This is rich, coming from a man whose idea of narrative sophistication was to have a trembling narrator write down a ten-page panic attack before being eaten by an idea.

When Napoleon's expedition to Egypt unearthed a black basalt slab near the Nile Delta in 1799, no one present could have guessed its destiny as the most famous inscription in the history of linguistics.

The Zohar’s literary style is densely allusive, deeply symbolic, and intentionally enigmatic. Written in an artificial Aramaic reminiscent of older midrashic forms, it constructs a world where every verse of Torah conceals vast inner meanings.

Lovecraft’s fiction, when examined closely, reveals a deeply sentimental engagement with the world around him. Despite his claims of mechanistic indifference, his stories are suffused with nostalgia, reverence for history, and an almost mystical attachment to place.