A Night in Malnéant: The City of Eternal Grief

Gates of Imagination

Step into the fog-shrouded streets of "A Night in Malnéant," a classic gothic horror story by the master of weird fiction, Clark Ashton Smith. This audiobook summary delves into the haunting tale of a nameless narrator, a man tormented by the guilt of his past, who wanders into a mysterious city where time and reality seem to blur. The entire city is preparing for a funeral, a somber occasion made all the more sinister when the narrator discovers the deceased is a woman named Mariel—the same name as his late wife, whose death he feels responsible for.  "A Night in Malnéant" is a psychological masterpiece that explores themes of regret, memory, and inescapable guilt. Written with Smith’s signature lush and poetic prose, the story creates a dream-like, claustrophobic atmosphere that is both beautiful and deeply unsettling. As the narrator tries to navigate the labyrinthine streets, he is forced to confront the spectral echoes of his own past. H.P. Lovecraft praised this story for its "subtle Poe-Dunsany element," and it remains a favorite among fans of gothic literature and weird fantasy. Join us as we analyze the chilling coincidences, the unsettling atmosphere, and the final, horrifying realization that the narrator may never truly escape his past.

Transcript

00:00Gates of Imagination presents A Night in Malnayant by Clark Ashton Smith.

00:06Read by Josh Greenwood.

00:11My sojourn in the city of Malnayant occurred during a period of my life no less dim and

00:17dubious than that city itself and the misty regions lying thereabout.

00:22I have no precise recollection of its locality, nor can I remember exactly when and how I

00:28came to visit it. But I had heard vaguely that such a place was situated along my route.

00:34And when I came to the fog-enfolded river that flows beside its walls, and heard beyond the

00:39river the mortuary tolling of many bells, I surmised that I was approaching Malnayant.

00:45On reaching the grey, colossal bridge that crosses the river, I could have continued at will on

00:51other roads leading to remoter cities. But it seemed to me that I might as well enter Malnayant

00:56as any other place. And so it was that I set foot on the bridge of shadowy arches, under

01:02which the black waters flowed in stealthy division, and were joined again in a silence as of Styx

01:08and Acheron.

01:11That period of my life, I have said, was dim and dubious, all the more so, mayhap, because

01:16of my need for forgetfulness, my persistent and at times partially rewarded search for

01:21oblivion. And that which I needed to forget above all, was the death of the Lady Mariel,

01:27and the fact that I myself, had slain her as surely, as if I had done the deed with my own hand.

01:33For she had loved me with an affection deeper and purer, and more stable than mine. And my

01:39changeable temper, my fits of cruel indifference or ferocious irritability, had broken her gentle

01:44heart. So it was that she had sought the anodyne of a lethal poison. And after she was laid to rest in

01:51the sombre vaults of her ancestors, I had become a wanderer, followed and forever tortured by a

01:57belated remorse. For months, or years, I am uncertain which. I roamed from old-world city to

02:04city, heeding little where I went if only wine and the other agents of oblivion were available.

02:11And thus I came, some while in my indefinite journeying, to the dim environs of Malnion.

02:16The sun, if ever there was a sun above this region, had been lost for I knew not how long

02:23in a sky of leaden vapours. The day was drear, and sullen at best. But now, by the thickening of

02:31the shadows and the mist, I felt that evening must be near, and the bells I had heard, however heavy

02:37and sepulchral their tolling, gave at least the assurance of prospective shelter for the night.

02:42So I crossed the long bridge, and entered the grimly yawning gate with a quickening of

02:48my footsteps, even if with no alacrity of spirit. The dusk had gathered behind the grey walls,

02:54but there were few lights in the city. Few people were abroad, and these went upon their way with

03:00a sort of solemn haste, as if on some funereal errand that would admit of no delay. The streets

03:06were narrow, the houses high, with overhanging balconies and heavily curtained or shuttered

03:11windows. All was very silent, except for the bells, which tolled recurrently, sometimes faint

03:18and far off, and sometimes with a loud and startling clangor that seemed to come almost

03:24from overhead. As I plunged among the shadowy mansions, along the streets from which a visible

03:30twilight issued to envelop me, it seemed that I was going farther and farther away from my memories

03:36at every step. For this reason, I did not at once inquire my way to a tavern, but was content to

03:43lose myself more and more in the grey labyrinth of buildings, which grew vaguer and vaguer amid the

03:49ever-mounting darkness and fog, as if they were about to dissolve in oblivion. I think that my soul

03:56would have been almost at peace with itself, if it had not been for the reiterant ringing of the bells,

04:01bells, which were like all bells that toll for the repose of the dead, and therefore set me to

04:07remembering those that had rung for Marielle. But whenever they ceased, my thoughts would drift back

04:13with an indolent ease, a recovered security, to the all-surrounding vagueness. I had no idea how far

04:21I had gone in Malnayant, nor how long I had roamed among those houses that hardly seemed as if they could

04:27be peopled by any but the sleeping or the dead. At last, however, I became aware that I was very

04:33tired, and bethought me of food and wine and a lodging for the night. But nowhere in my wanderings

04:39had I noticed the signboard of an inn, so I resolved to ask the next passerby for the desired direction.

04:46As I have said before, there were few people abroad. Now, when I made up my mind to address one of them,

04:53it appeared that there was no one at all, and I walked onward through street after street in my

04:58futile search for a living face. At length I met two women, clothed in grey that was cold and dim as

05:05the folds of the fog, and veiled withal, who were hurrying along with the same funereal intentness I

05:12had perceived in all other denizens of that city. I made bold to accost them, asking if they could

05:18direct me to an inn. Scarcely pausing or even turning their heads, they answered,

05:23We cannot tell you. We are shroud-weavers, and we have been busy making a shroud for the Lady Marielle.

05:31Now, at that name, which of all names in the world was the one I should least have expected or cared

05:36to hear, an unspeakable chill invaded my heart, and a dreadful dismay smote me like the breath of the

05:43tomb. It was indeed strange that in this dim city, so far in time and space from all I had fled to

05:51escape, a woman should have recently died who was also named Marielle. The coincidence appeared so

05:58sinister that an odd fear of the streets through which I had wandered was borne suddenly in my soul.

06:04The name had evoked, with a more irrevocable fatality than the tolling of the bells,

06:09all that I had vainly wished to forget, and my memories were like living coals in my heart.

06:17As I went onward, with paces that had become more hurried, more feverish than those of the people of

06:23Malnayon, I met two men, who mere likewise dressed from head to foot in grey, and I asked of them the

06:30same question I had asked of the shroud-weavers. We cannot tell you, they replied. We are coffin-makers,

06:38and we have been busy making a coffin for the Lady Marielle. As they spoke, and hastened on,

06:44the bells rang out again, this time very near at hand, with a more dismal and sepulchral menace in

06:50their leaden tolling. And everything about me, the tall and misty houses, the dark, indefinite streets,

06:58the rare and wraith-like figures, became as if part of the obscure confusion and fear and bafflement of

07:04a nightmare. Moment by moment the coincidence on which I had stumbled appeared all too bizarre for

07:09belief. And I was troubled now by the monstrous and absurd idea, that the Marielle I knew had only

07:15just died, and that this fantastic city was in some unsurmisable manner connected with her death.

07:22But this of course, my reason rejected summarily, and I kept repeating to myself,

07:27The Marielle of whom they speak, is another moral. And it irritated me beyond all measure that a

07:33thought so enormous and ludicrous should return when my logic had dismissed it. I met no more

07:39people of whom to inquire my way. But at length, as I fought with my shadowy perplexity and my burning

07:46memories, I found that I had paused beneath the weather-beaten sign of an inn, on which the

07:51lettering had been half effaced by time and the brown lichens. The building was obviously very old,

07:57like all the houses in Malnail. Its upper stories were lost in the swirling fog, except for a few

08:03furtive lights that glowed obscurely down. And a vague and musty odour of antiquity came forth to greet

08:10me, as I mounted the steps, and tried to open the ponderous door. But the door had been locked,

08:16or bolted. So I began to pound upon it with my fists, to attract the attention of those within.

08:23After much delay, the door was opened slowly and grudgingly, and a cadaverous-looking individual

08:29peered forth, frowning with portentous gravity as he saw me.

08:34What do you desire? he queried, in tones that were both brusque and solemn.

08:39A room for the night, and wine, I requested. We cannot accommodate you. All the rooms are occupied

08:47by people who have come to attend the obsequies of the Lady Mariel, and all the wine in the house

08:52has been requisitioned for their use. You will have to go elsewhere. He closed the door quickly upon

08:58me with the last words. I turned to resume my wanderings, and all that had troubled me before

09:04was now intensified a hundredfold. The grey mists and the greyer houses were full of the menace of

09:11memory. They were like traitorous tombs from which the cadavers of dead hours poured forth to assail

09:16me with envenomed fangs and talons. I cursed the hour when I had entered Malnayant, for it seemed to

09:23me now that in so doing I had merely completed a funereal, sinister circle through time, and had

09:29returned to the day of Mariel's death. And certainly all my recollections of Mariel, of her final agony

09:35and her entombment, had assumed the frightful vitality of present things. But my reason still

09:41maintained, of course, that the Mariel who lay dead somewhere in Malnayant, and for whom all these

09:46obsequie preparations were being made, was not the Lady whom I had loved, but another. After threading

09:53streets that were even darker and narrower than those before traversed, I found a second inn, bearing a

09:59similar weather-beaten sign, and in all other respects very much like the first. The door was

10:05barred, and I knocked thereon with trepidation, and was in no manner surprised when a second

10:10individual with a cadaverous face informed me in tones of sepulchral solemnity.

10:15We cannot accommodate you. All the rooms have been taken by musicians and mourners who will serve at

10:22the obsequies of the Lady Mariel, and all the wine has been reserved for their use.

10:26Now I began to dread the city about me with a manifold fear, for apparently the whole business

10:33of the people in Malnayant consisted of preparations for the funeral of this Lady Mariel, and it began

10:40to be obvious that I must walk the streets of the city all night because of these same preparations.

10:46All at once, an overwhelming weariness was mingled with my nightmare terror and perplexity.

10:52I had not long continued my peregrinations after leaving the second inn, when the bells were told

10:58once more. For the first time, I found it possible to identify their source. They were in the spires of

11:06a great cathedral, which loomed immediately before me through the fog. Some people were entering the

11:12cathedral, and a curiosity, which I knew to be both morbid and perilous, prompted me to follow them.

11:19Here, I somehow felt, I should be able to learn more regarding the mystery that tormented me.

11:27All was dim within, and the light of many tapers scarcely served to illumine the vast nave and altar.

11:36Masses were being said by priests in black whose faces I could not see distinctly. And to me,

11:42their chanting was like words in a dream. And I could hear nothing, and nothing was plainly visible in

11:48all the place, except a bier of opulent fabrics on which there lay a motionless form in white.

11:55Flowers of many hues had been strewn upon the bier, and their fragrance filled the air with a

12:00drowsy languor, with an anodyne that seemed to drug my heart and brain. Such flowers had been cast on

12:07the bier of Marielle, and even thus, at her funeral, I had been overcome by a momentary dulling of the

12:14senses because of their perfume. Dimly I became aware that someone was at my elbow. With eyes still

12:20intent on the bier, I asked, Who is it that lies yonder, for whom these masses are being said,

12:27and these bells are rung? And a slow, sepulchral voice replied, It is the Lady Marielle, who died

12:35yesterday, and who will be interred to-morrow in the vaults of her ancestors. If you wish,

12:42you may go forward, and gaze upon her. So I went down the cathedral aisle, even to the side of the

12:49bier, whose opulent fabrics trailed on the cold flags. And the face of her who lay thereon, with

12:55a tranquil smile upon the lips, and tender shadows upon the shut eyelids, was the face of the Marielle

13:01I had loved, and of none other. The tides of time were frozen in their flowing, and all that was or

13:08had been or could be, all of the world that existed aside from her, became as fading shadows. And even

13:16as once before, was it eons or instants ago, my soul was locked in the marble hell of its supreme grief

13:23and regret. I could not move. I could not cry out, nor even weep, for my very tears were turned to

13:31ice. And now I knew with a terrible certitude that this one event, the death of the Lady Marielle,

13:38had drawn apart from all other happenings, had broken away from the sequence of time,

13:43and had found for itself a setting of appropriate gloom and solemnity. Or perhaps had even built around

13:49itself the whole enormous maze of that spectral city, in which to abide my destined return among

13:56the mists of a deceptive oblivion. At length, with an awful effort of will, I turned my eyes away,

14:05and leaving the cathedral with steps that were both hurried and leaden, I sought to find an egress

14:10from the dismal labyrinth of Malnion, to the gate by which I had entered. But this was by no means easy,

14:18and I must have roamed for hours in alleys blind and stifling as tombs, and along the tortuous,

14:24self-reverting thoroughfares, ere I came to a familiar street, and was able henceforward to

14:29direct my paces with something of surety. And a dull and sunless daylight was dawning behind the

14:36mists when I crossed the bridge and came again to the road that would lead me away from that fatal

14:40city. Since then, I have wandered long, and in many places. But never again have I cared to revisit

14:48those old-world realms of fog and mist, for fear that I should come once more to Malniont,

14:55and find that its people are still busied with their preparations for the obsequies of the Lady Mariel.

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