The Hippocampus edition, which is the one I recommend.

As readers of the DMR Blog should know, 2020 is the centennial year of the first publication of A. Merritt’s The Metal Monster. Back when I was first getting into reading all of Merritt's works--ie, everything beyond The Ship of Ishtar--The Metal Monster was one of the first of his novels I picked up, since Hippocampus Books had published it as part of their "Lovecraft's Library" series. Hippocampus ‘ edition published the version Lovecraft read, which was TMM’s original appearance in Argosy All-Story in 1920. HPL had come to it late, thanks to an associate warning him off of it back in the day, but the Old Gent had loved it when he finally did read it--Clark Ashton Smith was a fan of it as well.

The Metal Monster is ostensibly a Lost Race novel. Its narrator is the same Dr. Goodwin who narrated Merritt's more famous novel, The Moon Pool. Goodwin, his friend, Drake, and several other explorers discover a lost city peopled by Persian refugees from the era of Alexander. It turns out that the city is at war with a neighboring city composed of sentient, metal beings from another galaxy. Goodwin and Drake end up being present when the Metal Horde feeds on the Sun. Goodwin's mind is transported to mind-blowing realms far beyond our solar system while Drake is rendered unconscious:

"There was a roaring within my head--louder, far louder than that which beat against my ears. Something was drawing me forth; drawing me out of my body into unimaginable depths of blackness... I felt myself leap outward--outward and outward--into oblivion!
I was immeasurable ages deep within infinity. I was speeding out of the blind heart of oblivion. Aeons upon aeons I had been flashing from it--out toward light. And for other aeons upon aeons I must speed before I could reach light's faintest borders. A solitary, sentient atom, I clove to illimitable depths.
How long I had been wrapped in that blind borderless heart, I did not know. For innumerable centuries, countless ages, suns had been born, life had climbed out of the primeval chaos of their circling worlds, had reached its apex and fallen back; the worlds had died; the suns which had given them birth had blackened; and other suns, other worlds, had been born. Still steadily I sped--on toward the light; that light still immeasurable aeons away.
Through the illimitable I sped. Aeons still far from me I knew were the nearest surges of the star seas, breaking on the timeless, ultimate verge through which I flew. Within the star seas spun the loom of Fate; it was toward its weaving that I sped; lusting to be made incorporate again in its pattern, to join my fellows, to be woven with them in that web of life aeons and aeons away from this nothingness through which I flew...
For eternities I flew; a mote within the blind blackness, wresting with runes that must be read, darting toward that light by which only might they be deciphered. The blackness lessened. A sound came to me--a keen, strange sound, as though it was Creation made audible. In it seemed to ring, as one, birth song and dirge of things create; evil and good were wed within that single note, beauty and ill, rule and the inchoate.
The blackness faded and was gone. Within a pulsing sea of light I raced--a cosmic spark enmeshed in splendors, cradled in might...*
Around me the suns were hived in humming hordes...
I had reached my goal; had threaded then aeons of blackness; had come back from the blind heart of oblivion. There was something I must do; something I must awaken... It was--myself!"

Purple prose, indeed! That said, how else might an author convey such cosmic visions? Clark Aston Smith attempted the same thing with his classic poem, "The Hashish-Eater", and used similar methods. Goodwin regains his senses and finds that his friend, Drake, is already conscious.

The above transcription is somewhat edited. By "edited", I mean that I left out about ten percent of the text--excerpted from chapters XXXI and XXXII of The Metal Monster--which didn't specifically apply to my purpose here. I have not changed any individual sentences.

Now, go and read—if you haven’t already—Robert E. Howard’s tale of Kull the Atlantean, “The Striking of the Gong”. It’s quite short and every sword and sorcery fan worth his salt should own it in some form. Click here—courtesy of Bill Thom’s excellent Howard Works site—to find all the places where “Gong” has been published. What follows below is spoilertastic. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

*Spoilers follow*

To bring those of you who haven’t read “Gong” in awhile up to speed, Kull “awakens” in darkness, not knowing where he is. He journeys through darkness into light and then meets the being I’ve named “Tall Dude”. The two of them discuss the nature of reality and then Kull finds himself back in his palace. He learns from his friend, Brule, that he just survived an assassination attempt. He then finds out that it had been only seconds since his near-death event occurred. Those are the elements of the tale: near-death experience, darkness, journey into light, revelation, awakening in our world and then greeted by a good friend who is already conscious. Sound familiar? Let’s A/B some quotes from the two tales, with all italics courtesy of yours truly for emphasis:

"Somewhere in the hot red darkness there began a throbbing. A pulsating cadence, soundless but vibrant with reality, sent out long rippling tendrils that flowed through the breathless air."

Compare that with this from Merritt:

"There was a roaring within my head--louder, far louder than that which beat against my ears."

"Within a pulsing sea of light I raced--a cosmic spark enmeshed in splendors, cradled in might..."

"A sound came to me--a keen, strange sound, as though it was Creation made audible. In it seemed to ring, as one, birth song and dirge of things create; evil and good were wed within that single note, beauty and ill, rule and the inchoate."

REH: "At first it seemed to him that he was floating on the even and regular waves of a black ocean..."

Merritt: "Aeons still far from me I knew were the nearest surges of the star seas, breaking on the timeless, ultimate verge through which I flew."

REH: "Utter darkness met his glance. He strained his eyes, but no single gleam of light met them."

Merritt: "Something was drawing me forth; drawing me out of my body into unimaginable depths of blackness..." "I was speeding out of the blind heart of oblivion."

REH: "He began to walk forward, haltingly, hands out before him, seeking light as instinctively as a growing plant seeks it." "Light! I know—I remember Light, though I do not remember what Light is."

Merritt: "Aeons upon aeons I had been flashing from it--out toward light." "Still steadily I sped--on toward the light; that light still immeasurable aeons away."

REH: "Far away a faint gray light began to glow. He hastened toward it."

Merritt: "For eternities I flew; a mote within the blind blackness, wresting with runes that must be read, darting toward that light by which only might they be deciphered. The blackness lessened."

REH: "High above him, even with his eyes, and below him, flashed and blazed great stars in a majestic glittering cosmic ocean."

Merritt: "Within a pulsing sea of light I raced..." "Aeons still far from me I knew were the nearest surges of the star seas, breaking on the timeless, ultimate verge through which I flew."

REH: “What is death but a traversing of eternities and a crossing of cosmic oceans?"

Merritt: "Aeons upon aeons I had been flashing from it--out toward light. And for other aeons upon aeons I must speed before I could reach light's faintest borders." "Through the illimitable I sped. Aeons still far from me I knew were the nearest surges of the star seas, breaking on the timeless, ultimate verge through which I flew."

REH: "The ‘everlasting’ stars change in their own time, as swiftly as the races of men rise and fade. Even as we watch, upon those which are planets, beings are rising from the slime of the primeval, are climbing up the long slow roads to culture and wisdom, and are being destroyed with their dying worlds..." "Kull watched, fascinated, as huge stars and mighty constellations blazed and waned and faded, while others equally as radiant took their places, to be in turn supplanted."

Merritt: "How long I had been wrapped in that blind borderless heart, I did not know. For innumerable centuries, countless ages, suns had been born, life had climbed out of the primeval chaos of their circling worlds, had reached its apex and fallen back; the worlds had died; the suns which had given them birth had blackened; and other suns, other worlds, had been born."

As I’ve noted elsewhere in my comparison of Merritt’s Dwellers in the Mirage and "Queen of the Black Coast", Merritt might have the reputatation for long-winded "purple prose", but he seems to be able to encapsulate very similar concepts with a smaller word-count—at least in these two instances. To be honest, I've never compared the two passages--The Metal Monster and "The Striking of the Gong" --so closely until just now. Before, it was just me "eyeballing" the two. This fisking of the two leaves me with minimal doubt that Merritt inspired REH. The "sound and darkness" beginning. The journey from "darkness to light". The "star seas" and "cosmic oceans". The rise and fall of worlds, from "primeval" to "dying worlds". Finally, the return to our reality and the meeting with a close friend, with the reveal that the "aeons" transpired in a few hours--in the case of Goodwin--and mere seconds in the case of Kull.

According to Patrice Louinet:

“As 1928 was drawing to a close, Howard once again returned to Kull. ‘The Striking of the Gong’ was the first Kull story not submitted to Weird Tales, but was sent instead to Argosy.”

1928 sounds about right. Check out this excerpt from a Howard letter to his friend, Harold Preece, in early 1928:

A panel from Roy Thomas’ adaptation of “The Striking of the Gong” for Savage Sword of Conan. Art by Rick Hoberg. — A panel from Roy Thomas’ adaptation of “The Striking of the Gong” for *Savage Sword of Conan*. Art by Rick Hoberg.

“The fact is that life is simply a passing phase of this planet, not the real reason for the planet’s existence, but simply a result of its growth. Life, and especially man’s life, is simply result then, and not a cause. There may be, may be, I say, a real reason for the existence of matter and energy, but whatever that reason, that purpose is, man is no more essential to its culmination than any weed or tree.” [Collected Letters, v. 1, p. 198]

I find it interesting that REH sent “Gong” to Argosy. I assume that Louinet means Argosy All-Story Weekly, which was its name at the time. The two legendary pulps, Argosy and All-Story, had been merged, coincidentally enough, in 1920—the same year The Metal Monster was published. Is it too far-fetched to believe that REH thought that his tale of cosmic wonder might receive a warm welcome at the same pulp where TMM had been published eight years before?

As with Edgar Rice Burroughs, REH was fairly silent regarding Merritt. We know he considered Merritt somewhere on the scale of “good” to “great”. We also know that REH sent his personal copy of Argosy All-Story—which Bob called simply “Argosy”—containing Merritt’s “The Snake Mother” to Lovecraft.

The version of The Metal Monster excerpted above appeared in eight installments in Argosy All-Story in 1920. Another version, shortened and revised by Merritt and titled “The Metal Emperor”—which Clark Ashton Smith quite liked—appeared in Hugo Gernsback’s Science and Invention over the course of eleven segments. I have no idea if the text quoted above appeared in the S&I version. Howard would've had to gotten hold of the Argosy All-Story issues that published the The Metal Monster—at least, the issue that published chapters XXXI and XXXII. That is certainly not impossible. I need to research whether the S&I version preserved that specific part of the text.

That said, maybe Robert E. Howard didn't read The Metal Monster. If that is the case, then we have to consider just how eerily close Howard's vision of the cosmos matched up with Merritt's—despite not reading TMM. One can see the same thing in the works of Clark Ashton Smith, who came late to Merritt but immediately turned into an ardent Merritt fan. Just as much as Edgar Rice Burroughs, Merritt shaped the SFF/weird fiction zeitgeist during the interwar period.

Another minor point in this comparison... The Being/Tall Dude in "Gong" references a "Door". That put me in mind of the REH fragment, "The Door to the Garden". To me, that fragment appears to be a blatant attempt by REH to write a Merrittesque "portal fantasy". It's pity that he took it no further.

As far as gravestone epitaphs go, I have to say that “A cosmic spark enmeshed in splendors, cradled in might" ain’t bad. I might have to consider that one.

*My thanks to Chris L. Adams for help with this post.