Reading Lovecraft is such a bizarre experience.
On the one hand, he had a legitimately revolutionary approach to horror fiction, envisioning a universe that’s neither hostile nor meaningless, but rather, coldly indifferent: a universe in which there is a grand plan and a cosmic purpose, but it’s one in which humanity has no part to play.
On the other hand, he was, like, super racist. So when he takes this high concept of a universe driven by a blind and uncaring God and a cosmology in which our most deeply held principles are objectively and catastrophically incorrect, half the time he comes up with stories where the moral is like:
“What if the doctrine of white supremacy is irrelevant? What if our notions of racial purity are doing more harm than good? What if the offspring of interracial marriage are objectively superior beings?”
That was his idea of an existentially terrifying scenario. He’s not trying to be clever or didactic - the very notion scared the hell out of him, and he’s presenting it in the honest expectation that it’ll scare the hell out of his audience, too.
(Granted, it’s not all like that, but for every fantastical nightmare adventure, you’ll get at least one “let me explain to you at great length why rural Americans are literally inhuman and why that should terrify you beyond all reason”. The dude actually manages to make rednecks into credible figures of cosmic horror at one point, which would be kind of awesome if it wasn’t all kinds of classist.)