Dreams in the Witch House is not considered Lovecraft's best (including the racist characterizations), but to my lucid-dreamy self it is an interesting description of (somewhat) relatable experiences.

I was originally enticed by the early scenes, but as the plot progressed, I realized that it was going to turn into another "save a loved one from the netherworld while the witch hunts you" story.
(That said, I did enjoy the bit where Brown Jenkin is let loose into the world)

Gone are the non-Euclidian dimensions, the gradual unraveling of the dreams and the witch house itself. Most of all, gone are the realms of the unfamiliar, the perspectives brought forth by Gilman's slow recognition of the unfolding other world.

It's one of my favorite pieces of modern horror/fantasy fiction. Leaves a taste in the mouth that doesn't go away for quite a bit.

Reciting this was a pleasure. I gleaned much from it that I had missed earlier, as is always the case with re-reads. It contains frighteningly beautiful metaphors for existence.

Happy birthday Mr. Barron. Hope I get to read more of your works in the years to come.

"They prayed because to slight Shiva in their supplication was to risk his not inconsiderable fury.

Yet, the priests knew if Shiva opened his eye and gazed upon the world it would be destroyed."