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Title	:	The Hill of Dreams
Author	:	Arthur Machen
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	Anniversary Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 204 pages
Published	:	August 1st 2002 by Borgo Press (first published 1907)
Categories	:	Horror. Fantasy. Fiction. Classics. Weird Fiction. Gothic

The Hill of Dreams

Arthur Machen

Paperback | Pages: 204 pages

Rating: 3.9 | 845 Users | 100 Reviews

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Lucian Taylor is damned, either through contact with an erotically pagan faerie world or through something degenerate in his own nature. He thinks of the damning thing inside him as a faun. He becomes a writer, and when he moves to London he becomes trapped by the increasing reality of the dark imaginings of this creature within him, which become increasingly real. The portrait of a doomed artist: a man not unlike Machen himself.

Mention Books As The Hill of Dreams

Original Title:	The Hill of Dreams
ISBN:	1587155303 (ISBN13: 9781587155307)
Edition Language:	English
Characters:	Lucian Taylor
Setting:	Caermaen, Wales(United Kingdom) London, England(United Kingdom)

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Ratings: 3.9 From 845 Users | 100 Reviews

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This strange novel by one of the early masters of the weird tale is halfway between Dorian Gray and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Its protagonist is the introverted son of a poor Welsh minister striving to become a writer in the indifferent streets of late 19th century London. There is no plot to speak of, but the vivid prose sings with a rich, peculiar music that evokes the inner life of the young author. Not for all tastes, but definitely worth a try. Machen's descriptions of the

In Arthur Machens The Hill of Dreams, a young writer is haunted by the presence of a ruin near his rural home. Whenever he visits the ruin, it carries him off to ancient Rome. His visions are vibrant and sensual and all-encompassing. Years later, when he moves to London, the pressure to write something of literary merit and the isolation of being friendless in a metropolis takes their toll on him. He becomes drawn into a whirlpool of altered realities that threaten not only his sanity but his

A deliberate turning away from the status quo of 'securing a position with good prospects' in favor of hills shrouded in mist, magic hidden within a ring of trees, and later, fevered writing in a dusty bedsit in some grey suburban lane. The briefest fling scrapes tinder that blazes into months spent dream-building an entire ancient city and its mysterious inhabitants, then watching in languor as they conduct their arcane business. A struggle to rise above the drudgeryto reject the daily

Reading this book was like stepping into my own skin via Lucian Taylor. It took me to the painful time in England where I was as lost as Lucian or maybe more. This story struck a nerve. I felt as if I must have ended up as Lucian and not Machen if had not been for the presence of some very human angels in my life. Therefore, the end was a dreadful shock and I did find myself taking time out from reading Arthur Machen.

Less the Hallowe'en horror I set out to read than a decadent-era study of the tortured artist (and the mystical and maddening possibilities of nature and Roman ruins) in luscious language. We meet Lucian Taylor in boyhood and see the [semi-autobiographical] difficulties he experiences growing up in a narrow-minded small Welsh town, so he's more obviously sympathetic than his near-contemporaries such as the hero of Hunger, or Charles Strickland of The Moon and Sixpence - whose single-mindedness

Poor, poor LucianFirst, he climbed a hill, and it ruined his lifeThen, he kissed a girl, and it ruined his lifeThen, he tried to write a book, and it ruined his lifeThen, a girl asked him to go for a walk with her, and it ruined his lifeThen, he saw a house, and it ruined his lifePoor, poor LucianSome of the nature descriptions were excellent near the beginning, but even those grew tiresome as Machen treaded the same territory over and over. I think we're supposed to sympathize with Lucian and

Something extraordinary happened to me while I was reading The Hill of Dreams. I kept catching myself getting lost in memories of my own through Machen's descriptions. The truth is I could relate with Lucian in many levels. I grew up in the outside of a small village (you get the point, not even in a village), and those walks in the countryside are perfectly familiar to me. I remember I used to walk and do rides with my bicycle a lot as a kid and teenager and mesmerizing was a frequent pastime