I found an interesting mention in my recently-received copy of Letters to Reinhart Kleiner and Others. In short, H.P. Lovecraft may not have been anti-semitic as contemporary literati and such love to argue. This extract is dated April 6, 1918 and addressed to James Larkin Pearson.

And before I forget it, I should like to express my delight at “Israel” in your February number. That attractively phrased & well-executed piece almost makes me forget my deeply-seated prejudice against the Jewish race. In the north, where there are so many undesirable Russian-Jewish immigrants, we cannot look so favourably & academically upon the merits & historical glory of the Hebrew! I hope, as you do, that the Jews can be rehabilitated as a nation in Palestine.
- Page 315

Well I was astonished and submitted it to reddit. Someone commented that Zionism is anti-semitism and a mod responded about how Lovecraft was certainly an anti-semite and closed the thread before any further conversation could happen.


And here's the poem Israel by Mr. Pearson, as featured in the February 1st issue of Good News way back in 1918.

A song, O Israel, for thee,
Thou wonder of the ages,
Whose fadeless blood all men may see
On history's red pages.

Thy destiny was written large
In God's first dream of nations,
And there He gave His angels charge
Concerning all thy stations.

From being led of God secure
Ye listened to ambitions lure,
Through all the unknown dangers
And served the gods of strangers.

And then upon thy truant eyes
There fell an awful blindness,
So that ye failed to recognize
God's greatest deed of Kindness.

Because of Judah's slaughtered Lamb
Thy highest hopes were shattered,
And thou, the seed of Abraham,
Through all creation scattered.

Oh, sadder than all tragic tales
That touch our hearts to pity,
Arose thy never-ending wails
For thy lost Holy City.

For every land hath been to thee
Gethsemene's sad garden,
And many a red Golgotha tree
Hath pleaded for thy pardon.

But now, forgetting all the past,
Its age-long tragic story,
Thou shalt be gathered home at last
In all thy former glory.

For Judah's sun is in the east,
And Israel's dawn in breaking;
The night of wandering has ceased,
And Zion's hope is waking.

When broke is the oppressor's rod,
And all thy wrongs adjusted,
Thou wilt not doubt the Living God
In whom thy fathers trusted.

Thou who hast borne the exile's brand
Through ages of oppression,
Behold to-day thy Promised Land–
Thy dearly-bought possession.

Now let thy hand reach out and take
Thy harp from off the willow;
No more the thorn thy bed shall make,
No more the stone thy pillow.

But pleasant paths in valleys sweet,
By Zion's living waters,
Shall bless at last the bleeding feet
Of Israel's wandering daughters.

Say not thy hopes are burned away
To silent dying embers;
Lift up thy smiling face and say:
"God lives, and still remembers!"

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