One of the many horror foundations built by HP Lovecraft’s hugely influential work lies within fear of the unknown — particularly the kind resting just out of eyesight. Pulling the right (or wrong) book from a shelf to reveal a dungeon or portal to a different world is unsettling not just in its discovery but also in the realization that it was there all along.
In Misha Green’s Lovecraft Country (based on Matt Ruff’s 2016 novel of the same name) the paranormal threats that wait just beneath the surface are accompanied by a fresh level of fear not typically seen within the ever-expanding universe of Lovecraftian horror. Throughout the series, a trio of Black adventurers have not only alien beasts to contend with but also the societal threats of 1950s America.
Though HP Lovecraft never achieved literary fame during his lifetime, his early sect of weird fiction would lay the groundwork for much of the modern horror genre and also continue on as its own popular umbrella of culture. But much like Lovecraft's own loved to point out, when you peel back the surface layer on something, you often find something vile underneath.
To say that racism was never present in Lovecraft’s original work would be misleading. It was present through the author himself being overtly racist — a caveat Lovecraft Country wastes no time in highlighting.
“Stories are like people,” Atticus Freeman, a black war veteran and fan of the Lovecraft genre, attests in the show’s pilot episode. “You loving them doesn’t make them perfect.”
In order to fully execute its two-pronged approach to horror, through both mystical and historically accurate terrors, the series spends ample time fleshing out the world of mid-50s United States. The settings, cars and music are all carefully chosen like any period piece but when unsettling background noises (the kind that typically signifies forthcoming horror) begins in situations that (white) viewers might not typically associate with danger, like a bus breakdown or drive past a fire department, the show’s finer details earn their keep.
Far from the least important of these aspects are the character’s outfits. Sandwiched between the years of Jim Crow and the 60s Civil Rights movement, clothing played a crucial role in Black American’s navigation through society and politics during the time the show portrays. One approach to the impossible question of how to dress for white acceptance was to reject standards completely. From denim to berets, many groups used non-formal clothing as a reminder of the deep-rooted differences that still existed between White and Black America. Other groups, particularly those centered around Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s nonviolent protest movement saw fashion norms as a key tool for social progress.
“In adhering to their philosophy of nonviolence, their style was conciliatory rather than confrontational,” Robin Givhan writes on the topic of Dr. King’s fashion choices. “The clothes suggested that a dialogue wasn’t just desired, it was possible. And so, when their racial diplomacy was met with a full, frontal attack, the images were especially jarring.”
The costumes choices of Lovecraft Country’s main characters help to world-build and further outline the tragedy and horror of passive racism in a similar manner — particularly in a “progressive” region like New England.
The economic growth of post-WWII, 1950s American continued to popularize business suits, top hats, pleated trousers and other formal wear while casual tuxedos, polo shirts and other slightly more informal clothing began to enter the spectrum of the shifting American dream. Polo shirts and pocketed oxford shirts became acceptable menswear during nonbusiness hours. As counterculture movements began to stir in the 50s, white, suburban America began to place even more weight on trimmed dress codes. For black Americans, maintaining formal appearance would become in important, albeit often futile, task.
The tailored outfits and dresses in Lovecraft Country add vibrant style to a neighborhood party in Chicago but also add a nature of unsettling fear when characters are run out of town for entering the wrong restaurant. Tic’s high-waisted trousers and tucked shirts accentuate his powerful physique while George’s suits and suspenders hide his weathered knees and highlight his intellectual strengths. Whether the adventurers are trying to outmaneuver a many-eyed shoggoth or all-white Massachusetts police team, both appearances help to further unsettle whatever they find beneath the surface.
