The pattern changes somewhat in other stories, although not so much to deprive Ligotti of his mantle as Lovecraft-incarnate. From a psychologist’s dream-within-a-dream (or is it real?) involving a mannequin to an asylum where madness is the key to other realities, to a mysterious theatre that leaves its artist-victims deprived of inspiration, The Nightmare Factory is a circus of intriguing ideas. But with an aversion to exploring the “why” of it all – curiosity is a sin when the unknown is something to be feared and the only possible response to existence is dread – the stories raise questions whose answers would be far more interesting than what is actually offered. Of course, in the case of Teatro Grottesco the absence of a why is the point, but this only makes for a weak sort of existentialism. The why in Dream of a Mannequin is rather basic: why does anything at all happen in the story? In Dr. Locrian’s Asylum, one can ask what, exactly, Dr. Locrian accomplishes with his sinister machinations, but a more pressing question might be why mental disorders must be seen with horror rather than compassion.

Perhaps it is that the stories have lost depth in their transition to a graphic form – it certainly isn’t a good sign that Ligotti himself felt compelled to offer explanatory introductions to each of the stories. Or perhaps it is that these stories merely reflect, without attempting to justify, refute, or otherwise examine, a particularly bleak world view. In either case, The Nightmare Factory is interesting enough to read, though whether it’s worth shelling out hard-earned williams for a beautiful but shallow art book is another matter.