Neither the Gnome Press nor the Lancer/Ace Conan series included this essay by Robert E. Howard. Most likely the manuscript hadn’t been discovered yet. In any event, it was first published in A Gazeteer of the Hyborian World ofConan, Starmont House, 1977.
Starmont House also published a beautifully detailed Hyborian Age map that measured 41″ X 28″ and featured “The World of Kull” in the lower right corner. I did not purchase the map when it was published and kick myself daily.
The author of the Gazeteer is listed as Lee N. Falconer which is a pseudonym for Julian May. She was publisher Ted Dikty’s wife. (Dikty and pulp scholar Darrell C. Richardson were also responsible for the Fax Collector’s Editions of Robert E. Howard books.) Prior to their marriage she had published a fanzine and had sold a story to Astounding Science Fiction. Why a pseudonym was chosen for this book is unknown by me.
Before discussing Robert E. Howard’s essay, I’ll briefly review this book. It was designed to be a companion to the map. There is a preface, the gazeteer, and four appendices. The preface is very good in describing what sources were used (mainly REH’s stories but supplemented with material from the Lancer Conan series and the Marvel Comics) and map projection techniques along with concern for terrain and national boundaries. It makes for an interesting read.
The gazeteer is an alphabetical listing of place names. Most of the descriptions are short but some are quite lengthy. See the back cover reproduced below for examples. Although this information is not needed to enjoy the original stories, it does satisfy those of us who want to dig deeper into Conan’s world.
The appendices feature a chronology of all the stories published at that time, the essay “Notes on Various Peoples” by REH, information about how the “coats of arms” illustrated on the map were determined, maps by REH, the 1936 map John D. Clark and P. Schuyler Miller sent to REH, and a map by artist Tim Conrad.
When “Notes on Various People” was reprinted in the Del Rey Conan series it was separated into two articles. The first part discussing Aquilonians, Gundermen, and Cimmerians was published in The Coming of Conan, the later portion discussing “The Westermarck” was published as “Untitled Notes” in The Conquering Sword of Conan and preceded the story “Wolves Beyond the Border.”
REH’s “Notes” are not extremely extensive. Physical characteristics are described: ”The Aquilonians were a tall race, averaging five feet, ten and three-fourths inches in height, and were generally inclined to be rangy, though in the last generations the city dwellers inclined toward portliness.” ”… the people of Gunderland were uniformly tawny haired and grey eyed.” ”[Cimmerians] were a tall powerful race, averaging six feet in height. They were black-haired and grey or blue-eyed.” More interestingly, a province of Aquilonia, which was never sufficiently developed in an actual story, is described in some detail in the “Notes.” (In “The Phoenix on the Sword” Dion of Attalus is one of the conspirators attempting to replace Conan as king.)
Seemingly, based on these notes, REH meant for Attalus to be the premiere Aquilonian province. One supposes that once REH had Thoth Amon kill Dion of Attalus any interest in further developing its history dissipated. Perhaps some worthy new author will give us an “Attalus” story someday.
Here is what the Gazeteer has to say about Attalus: ”a barony (or perhaps a province) of Aquilonia. Its baron boasted descent from the old royal house of Aquilonia and had designs on Conan’s throne at one time. Not much about Attalus is put forth in the Saga. However, Howard said of it: “[Aquilonia’s] most important provinces were Poitain in the south, Gunderland in the north, and Attalus in the southeast … The people of Attalus boasted the greatest advances in commerce and culture, though the whole level of Aquilonian civilization was enviable.” Because of this statement, we have placed Attalus in the region about Tarantia, the Aquilonian capital.”
The section of the “Notes” dealing with “The Westermarck” (along with REH’s map and “The Hyborian Age” itself) shows that REH was quite a “world builder” and took his imaginary settings seriously enough to strive for a high level of verisimilitude for his readers.
Once again, I dispute the notion that Sword & Sorcery works best as short fiction. For a master like Robert E. Howard that is probably true. But what I’ve been reading lately are simple stories with simple plots. I imagine these e-books are meant to show that Conan is still a viable property, and that Hollywood should take note. But more complicated plots would be my preference.
The “About the Author” section tells me that Brian D. Anderson is the bestselling author of The Godling Chronicles and had a career in music before becoming a writer. He has a current trilogy for Tor Books, called The Sorcerer’s Song. He currently resides in Fairhope, Alabama. He is very good when writing action scenes.
The first chapter gives us some violent action almost immediately. This is entertaining enough, but by now I’ve come to expect this. Every new writer feels the need to show us that Conan is a badass right away. I’m more old school and prefer an easing into the story. But I’ll grant that maybe this is needed for a modern audience.
Anderson uses a modern approach in his dialog as well. ”Guild Hall? Is that what you call this shithole?” The narration doesn’t refrain from profanity either: ”The cool night air filled his lungs – free from the miasmic stench of stale beer, vomit, urine, and shit.” By itself this neither pleases nor offends me. All I want is a good story.
This story has Conan working for a fellow called Magistrate Lanitar doing strong arm work of various kinds. Murder in the first chapter and being subletted to a new boss, Barathis Akken, in chapter two. Akken says his wife was kidnapped by a sorceress. He asks for Conan to go after the woman and fetch back his wife and child.
Conan goes on the mission with other hired thugs and encounters a beast. The action here is again quite good. One of the hired thugs, Tutmar, in league with the fleeing women attacks Conan at the same time the beast attacks.
I’ll end here, otherwise there could be spoilers. I will say that there are some twists and turns, but frankly, they are similar to the twists and turns of the previous e-books. I definitely support this endeavor. And $1.99 is cheap. Really cheap. So, I encourage people to purchase and read these stories. I will suggest that they are more for newcomers than us old-timers though.
There were three “Endless Quest” Conan adventures. Conan the Undaunted, Conan and the Prophecy, and Conan the Outlaw. I didn’t buy these books when they first appeared in 1984 and 1985. I was in my late 20s and knew the books were for young readers. Why spend my hard-earned money on them? Now, in my 60s, I purchased the books at 10 times the original cover price. Senility is a distinct possibility.
I did read one of the other books in this series a few years ago. One featuring Tarzan. I remember taking a “path” that led to Tarzan dying! At least I remember it that way! (Again, senility is a distinct possibility.) Does Conan die in any of the “paths” in these books?
Conan the Undaunted was published in 1984. The same year as the PG rated movie Conan the Destroyer. It seems Conan Properties, Inc. (CPI) was making a concerted effort to turn Conan into a family friendly barbarian. The Conan novels being published by Tor Books and written by Robert Jordan were still geared toward older readers though. They came straight off the heels of the first Conan movie which was rated R.
These Endless Quest books, if rated like movies, would be G (PG at most), the comic books at the time were PG-13, the Tor novels might rate an R. So, CPI had all their potential audiences covered. (There were “underground” X rated Conan knockoffs available, but CPI didn’t authorize those!)
The author, James Michael Ward, worked for TSR, Inc. as a game designer. He would have been around 31 years old at the time. Young enough to remember what youngsters liked. These books are written in the second person. “You are Conan of Cimmeria” begins the story.
The book is attractively designed. The cover art is by Clyde Caldwell with interior illustrations by Doug Chaffee. This is book number 19 in the series (but is the first “pick a path to adventure” featuring Conan). There is a map featuring the western half of the Hyborian World.
Conan is fourteen in this adventure. Conan and his friend, Keelta, have accompanied elders on a trading trip from Cimmeria. The youngsters go off on their own and see an Aquilonian knight being attacked by several men. Conan decides to help the outnumbered knight. The attackers are chased away and the knight, upon dying, challenges Conan to take up his quest. Suffice to say Conan is talked into fulfilling this “death quest” by Keelta. The chapter ends and you (as the reader) have a choice what to do next. Either turn to page 19 or 22.
As most are probably aware, going to the designated pages will lead you to another choice and the game is repeated again and again until you successfully complete or fail the quest.
A mathematician could probably figure out how many different adventures you can have. I’m no mathematician though. In fact, I’m just a kid at heart. All I want to know is if my choices could harm young Conan.
Out of 16 (hope I counted correctly) possible endings, eleven of them result in something bad. Usually being captured or to be sold as slaves. I suppose that was to instill some sort of realism into the reader. As a 10-year-old I might have been devastated if the first ending I picked was the one where Keelta dies! But I would have continued on until I reached a successful ending. These books had a pretty good formula. I imagine most kids read every possible combination until the pages were loose.
Conan and the Prophecy is number 20 in the series. The author is Roger E. Moore. Like Ward, he is from the gaming community. He was the editor of Dragon magazine and was the founding editor of Dungeon magazine. This book features a map of Arenjun, the City of Thieves. The cover is by Keith Parkinson with interior art by Sam Grainger.
Conan has travelled south and is in Arenjun. The format is the same. This time you (Conan) are 17 years old. As in the first book, Conan has a companion. A fellow named Mombe. Conan and Mombe stop a local tough from harassing a blind beggar. The beggar thanks Conan with a prophecy. “Tonight you will find adventure in Arenjun…” Conan and Mombe encounter a gang and have to decide to bluff their way out or fight the lot of them.
Out of 16 possible endings, they are all, more or less, the same. The previous book had some “bad” endings. Maybe someone complained. Both Conan and Mombe survive the night. Even though I wouldn’t want to see Conan or Mombe killed I think some of the choices should have been foolhardier and led to bad consequences. At least a teachable moment or two.
Conan the Outlaw is number 25 in the series. It was published in 1985. It is also by Roger E. Moore. There is a map labeled “Hyboria.” This doesn’t bother me. I’ve heard the 20th Century called “The American Age” and “America” is a country. REH referred to Conan’s time period as “The Hyborian Age” so calling the world of that time “Hyboria” seems fair to me, even though REH never specifically used that term.
The cover art is by Keith Parkinson with interior art by Ron Randall. ”[…] your father was killed in a quarrel. You killed the murderer, but his clan vowed to retaliate. Finally, outlawed, from your own people, you left Cimmeria, alone.”
(Obviously no one cared about consistency or adherence to REH at this point. Robert E. Howard is not mentioned in any of the three books. Some might be happy that that was the case. I think a brief introduction mentioning the great creator would have been appropriate though.)
This book is set chronologically after the L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter story, “Legions of the Dead.” And it is a prequel to the previous book, Conan and the Prophecy. Conan dreams Vammatar (the villain from d & C’s story) is coming to kill him. Conan can choose to take a job guarding a caravan, stay where he is, or travel south.
There are 14 possible endings in this adventure. Most of them end with Conan achieving a minor victory and heading south to Zamora. Only one ends with Conan not achieving much of anything and having to fight again later.
Only someone who feels the need to own EVERYTHING should buy these adventures. They aren’t bad though. They are geared to young readers and if you know a young reader, they should find these books enjoyable. Even an adult can enjoy them. (Senile or not!)
Probably old news for most. Conan the Cimmerian appears in this story. But he is on Mars. The main character is Lee Thorsten. But he is in the body of Theseus. (The Greek hero who killed The Minotaur.) And Thorsten/Theseus is on Mars as well. So is the Minotaur! Let’s take a look at this convoluted “Conan” adventure.
Per Wikipedia: Space Stories was a pulp magazine which published five issues from October 1952 to June 1953. It was published by Standard Magazines and edited by Samuel Mines. Mines’ editorial policy for Space Stories was to publish straightforward science fiction adventure stories. Among the better-known contributors were Jack Vance, Gordon R. Dickson and Leigh Brackett, whose novel The Big Jump appeared in the February 1953 issue.
“The Man of Two Worlds” was published in the first issue of the magazine, dated October 1952.
The easiest way to read this story is by buying Planetary Adventures, published by DMR Books. DMR Books, named after publisher/editor D. M. Ritzlin, is worth supporting. Check out their webpage. They publish many a book that will appeal to pulp fans. This book is available from Amazon as well:
Bryce Marvis Walton was born on May 31, 1918 in Blythedale, Missouri. He became a prolific short story writer. He wrote at least one novel, Sons of the Ocean Deeps, published in 1952. He also wrote for the television series, Captain Video and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. He died on February 5, 1988.
We know that he was a fan of Weird Tales. Four of his letters were published in “the unique magazine.” None of the letters mention REH but his love of the magazine is apparent.
September 1937
May 1938
August 1938
December 1938
Ok, lots of introductory material, but now… our feature attraction. “Man of Two Worlds” is a pretty wild story. Greek myths, Conan the Cimmerian, and a Sword & Planet adventure on Mars. The story starts rather confusingly, Lee Thorsten has just returned from a black basalt pyramid, sword in hand, unsure about what just happened in that pyramid. Lori Saunlon, his lover, had remembered the pyramid through a racial memory and directed Thorsten to investigate it as it conceals a gateway to the past. “She had insisted that sometime, incomparable ages before – she had been a part of a lost Martian civilization.”
Thorsten and Saunlon are involved in a rebellion against the Martian government. Thorsten receives a radio message that he needs to hide as troops are on the way to capture the rebels. Thorsten decides to try to rescue his friends and lead them back to the pyramid. “The great room beneath the pyramid. And the vaulted room opening into other worlds, into other times. They would furnish an escape the Colonial Guards would never dream of.”
Thorsten encounters the guards, a chase ensues, Thorsten and Lori make it back to the pyramid and enter the portal. Saunlon starts having more racial memories. “King Minos, and the scientist Daedalus – they built it. The dread Palace of Knossos, and Talos, the Metal Giant. And Lee [Thorsten] – you were there – with me! You had another name, a hero’s name…”
One would think the gateway was to Earth’s past but that would be too simple (and not a Sword & Planet story). All this ancient Greek myth stuff occurs on Mars, not Earth. Somehow and sometime in the long ago past the Martians came to Earth and told these stories of real events, and then they became the myths of the Greeks. Apparently, Walton wanted this story to be both a Sword & Planet and a “racial memory” REH type story.
It all gets rather complicated and if you really care, buy the DMR reprint. But to summarize, Thorsten goes after the Minotaur and finds that Theseus was defeated and killed. Thorsten takes over Theseus’s body and proceeds to kill the Medusa (while realizing that Greek Myth assigns that task to Perseus). Lori becomes Princess Ariadne who helped Theseus in the myth. In Walton’s version of this myth, Theseus is from Cimmeria, not Athens. (Cimmerians are mentioned by Homer so I’d say Walton was within bounds to make Theseus a Cimmerian.)
Bryce Walton really seems to have written this story just to re-introduce readers to Conan the Cimmerian. (Which is cool AF.) Conan appears near the end of the story: “Thorsten whipped his sword free and tossed it to a giant, splendid figure of a man, bronzed and half naked, his torso crossed with scars and long oily black hair shining in the moonlight, a ferocious barbarian from the Outer Islands of Mars.” Then later: “I thank you, Theseus! I am Conan the Cimmerian. I came from your land, Theseus. From the wilds of Cimmeria.” And lastly:
So, Conan defeats Talos, the giant robot of Greek Mythology. Some more action follows. Thorsten has identity issues while being in Theseus’s body. He starts yelling to a crowd, “Remember MY name too – remember me!Me!ME! Do you hear? THOR – ” So, Theseus, Conan the Cimmerian, and Thor (the God of Thunder) all end up being remembered once the Martians migrated to Earth. But Thorsten, hero that he was, is forgotten.
The story concludes with a science-fictional twist ending (at least I think so) that I’m not going to spoil. All in all, I thought the story was fun, but very messy and not all that great. I didn’t reread it before writing this post. It wasn’t a complete “turkey” but it was enough of one to make this my Thanksgiving post for the week.
This “Homage to Robert E. Howard’s Conan” was published in 2017 and dedicated to “the memory of my esteemed friends L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter.” Robert M. Price sent Sprague de Camp a synopsis of this story back when TOR Books was publishing new Conan novels. The TOR Conan series ran from 1982 – 1997. Forty-two books were published in those 16 years keeping Conan and Sword & Sorcery visible in the marketplace. After a 6-year gap, the final novel, Conan of Venarium was published in 2003.
The TOR series was suspended, and Price’s novel was never completed. Instead, he self-published the story as a short novella. It is currently available through Amazon for a meager $3.59. (That price is for an actual thin trade paperback, not an e-book.)
Robert M. Price first came to my attention in 1989, when he wrote the introductions to the two volume Robert E. Howard: Selected Letters collection published by Necronomicon Press. I then began collecting the various REH chapbooks he published with Cryptic Publications. At the time, these were much valued books, as they published several REH stories for the first time.
Mr. Price is also a biblical scholar and has published several books on theology and atheism. He has described himself as a “Christian atheist.” His H. P. Lovecraft journal, Crypt of Cthulhu, was instrumental as a forum for Lovecraft studies. He is also Lin Carter’s literary executor and has continued the adventures of Thongor as well as publishing rare Lin Carter stories in new books and in his continuation of Lin Carter’s Flashing Swords anthologies.
There was some controversy over Price’s introduction written for Flashing Swords #6 and the original book published by Pulp Hero Press was withdrawn from publication. The introduction started with praise for Lin Carter but then veered into a political discussion about “the feminization of American culture.” Several authors chose to have their stories printed in Savage Scrolls Volume 1, Pulp Hero Press, 2020 instead because of their disagreement with Price’s views. (Some authors were upset for different reasons. Apparently, Price published the book before contracts were actually signed.) Flashing Swords #6 was then published by Timaios Press and new stories were added to replace the withdrawn ones. (For the record, I purchased both Flashing Swords and Savage Scrolls.) Flashing Swords #7 has been published by Ramble House this year. The back cover blurb mentions “misanthropic radical feminists.”
Anyway, onward. Time to discuss this “homage to REH.” This book is on a par with the recent short Conan stories published by Heroic Signatures and Castalia House. Of those, John Hocking’s Black Starlight came the closest to emulating REH’s prose. Chuck Dixon’s two short books were definitely full of action. Stephen Graham Jones’ Lord of the Mount was the least enjoyable for me. Price’s Temple of the Black One has a REH type plot and Conan’s solutions to problems are properly violent. Price’s Conan is, like de Camp and Carter’s, arguably overall more heroic in his actions.
Conan is in Shem, licking his wounds, he had been traveling with a caravan that was attacked by Zuagir marauders. He was the sole survivor of the attack and tried to defend the caravan’s women and children but ultimately failed. A Stygian prostitute propositions Conan and Conan’s post-coital conversation tells the reader that he plans to become a laborer, working at a Stygian excavation to uncover an ancient temple. Treasure is rumored to be hidden there.
The labor is halted for a Stygian holiday and Conan starts planning. He visits a local apothecary and meets the owner, Imophis. Conan purchases sleeping powder and pays a barkeep to spike the ale where the laborers go to imbibe. Conan wants his fellow diggers to be asleep while he checks out the area by himself that night as he suspects other have the same idea as he does.
Part of the temple had been uncovered so Conan starts exploring. Conan encounters and kills two would be thieves also looking for treasure. He then encounters a friendly old Shemite named Younos, that he takes a liking toward. Younos is a scholar and has studied the Book of Skelos. He is there to learn, not to find treasure. He says the buried temple is Acheronian. Guards show up and both men are taken prisoner while black-robed figures watch.
Conan and Younos are freed from that prison by the black-robed men only to be re-imprisoned by them. Conan wakes to find Younos is dead. He has been skinned for a map tattooed on his body. Imophis, the apothecary appears and frees Conan. Imophis used his sleeping powders on the guards. Imophis tells Conan that the black-robed priests are trying to resurrect the black gods of R’lyeh (H. P. Lovecraft’s “Old Ones”). Imophis is opposed to them being the ones to do that. He wants to resurrect Gol-Goroth (Lovecraft’s toad-like monstrosity.) So, it’s Conan against the Cthulhu Mythos.
Conan realizes both the priests and Imophis are playing with dire fire and leaves to seek the help of the King of Stygia. Conan, rather unrealistically, gets his audience with the King but the King doesn’t trust him. The King’s wife, the Lady Zuleika, turns out to be the prostitute who propositioned Conan at the beginning of the story.
Going any further would provide spoilers. Price uses the theme of resurrecting gods, the competition between the priests and Imophis, and religion in general as commentary on modern religion. (I didn’t find it particularly pithy.) The narration gets a bit choppy around this time, as if Price wanted to rush to the conclusion. Conan does hold his own against Nyarlathotep (an evil deity who first appeared in Lovecraft’s 1920 prose poem) and saves the day. (Even if only temporarily.)
Although I found the beginning chapters to be too detailed with unimportant things and the concluding chapters too sketchy with important things, all in all, I’m enjoyed the story. It’s a likable “homage” to both REH and HPL. And likability is important to me.
The new Conan adventures are starting to pile up faster than I can read them. This one is not really new though. It was originally serialized in Marvel Comics Conan the Barbarian (2019) issues 1 through 12. I didn’t read it then. Like most, I imagine, I decided to wait until all 12 issues were in my hand so I could read the whole thing in one or two sittings. But after a year passes other things are bought and other things are added to the pile. I’m more of LIFO guy than a FIFO guy, I think. Accounting was never my strong suit.
John C. Hocking’s strong suit is his ability to emulate Robert E. Howard’s prose style. The opening paragraph captures REH’s style: short descriptive sentences with an effective use of color. REH and Hocking are great at verbally painting a scene that grabs the reader into the story.
The story is a sequel to Hocking’s Conan and the Emerald Lotus, Tor Books, 1995. Hocking was very communicative with fans in the past (and maybe still is?). I remember him posting comments as “Emerald” back when the Conan the Adventurer TV show (1997) had a bulletin board where fans could comment on the show and ask questions. The format was similar to the current The Swords of Robert E. Howard webpage.
Knowing Mr. Hocking is a fan favorite makes me reluctant to criticize him, but I feel a need to give a fair review. This adventure is dedicated “For Roy Thomas.” I loved the Marvel comic book and will always be a loyal Roy Thomas supporter. I was 13 when I first discovered Conan via Roy’s comic book version. Then later I read the Lancer books. Everything was new and exciting then. I loved it ALL. Even now, over 50 years later, I still read it ALL. But I’m more disappointed these days.
I didn’t dislike “Black Starlight,” but I can’t say it was an absolute thrill to read. Like I said, Hocking captures REH’s prose style quite well. And he has the Hyborian setting, swords and monsters, and Conan’s brawn. But it still isn’t REH enough. It’s hard to explain and even harder for an author to capture. The recent pastiches by Stephen Andrew Jones and Chuck Dixon try too hard to capture it and, in my opinion, falter. I like Hocking’s approach better, but something is missing.
It’s not the action. Hocking is fine with that as the excerpt above shows. Hocking’s Conan plots (admittedly based on only his first book and this sequel) are a touch too much “high fantasy” for me. Magic plays a large role in this story and Conan is in the company of its practitioners. (I like Brandon Sanderson’s books where codified magical systems are integral to the entire story.) Hyborian magic is usually haphazard and after 50 years I know Conan can defeat it. But that isn’t my main disappointment here. Like I said, Hocking’s style is similar enough to REH’s that I keep reading.
Hocking gets Conan and I look forward to more Conan adventures from him. All in all, “Black Starlight” is a decent read, but the best Conan stories have that little extra extra. Conan has been around for almost 100 years now and I’ve been reading his adventures for over 50 years. I still find things to enjoy in both the old and new. Conan’s compassion with Yag-kosha, REH’s view of the intrigue and rottenness of civilization in ‘Rogues in the House,” and the casual cruelty of law enforcement in “The God in the Bowl’ are all memorable moments. This story has Conan resisting a temptation, but the stakes are not high enough for it to be that extra extra.
I was looking forward to it. I really wanted to like it. I was hoping for the best. But, realistically what can you expect for $1.99. That’s cheaper than a comic-book.
Yep. It is only half the cost of a comic. But it is also only half as good. If I were to read a Conan comic-book about a wolf/gorilla like beast I’d at least get to see some imaginative art most likely. This short story is pretty unimaginative, and art could only help.
The first chapter gives us a Conan covered in saliva and cow shit. Later we get foul smells, more saliva, dirt and blood, and steaks carved out of still living cows. I get it. The author wants short cut imagery to show the reader a primitive harsh unsanitary world. It’s OK, I guess, but not all that entertaining.
The basic story is comic book simple. Conan is the last survivor (yet again) and wakes up in a cow pasture. The cow-herder helps Conan, the cow-herder (and his cows) are addicted to black lotus with a purple moss chaser, and the cow-herder tells Conan of a nearby town with lots of beer and babes. Along the way a beastie attacks Conan. Conan struggles, Conan prevails.
There is a slight twist in the plot. Conan behaves like the brute some writers think the readers all want to secretly be. End of story. It isn’t a great start. But what did I expect for $1.99? I hoped that Stephen Graham Jones would have slaved over the tale until it was a polished gem. I hoped his love for Conan and Robert E. Howard would have made him want to write the absolute best Conan tale possible. I hoped this would be the start of something great! I hoped, I hoped, I hoped…
According to Wikipedia: Stephen Graham Jones (born January 22, 1972) is a Blackfoot Native American author of experimental fiction, horror fiction, crime fiction, and science fiction. His most widely known works include the horror novels The Only Good Indians, My Heart is a Chainsaw, and Night of the Mannequins.
He is currently the Ineva Baldwin professor of English at the University of Colorado Boulder. 31.5 linear feet of works written by or related to him are held in the Sowell Family Collection in Literature, Community, and the Natural World, part of the Southwest Collection/Special Collections Library at Texas Tech University.
I didn’t hate the story and I’m sure Mr. Jones is an excellent writer in most cases. But it was too simple of a story to satisfy. There has been some talk that Sword & Sorcery works best in short stories. I never agreed with that. At this stage Conan NEEDS novels. Stories that give some insight into his character, provide sub-text for his actions, and the Hyborian World. Robert E. Howard was able to do that in a short story. Other authors can’t. I was more or less satisfied with Blood of the Serpent by S. M. Stirling. In the early going it was fresh and the gold heist plot had promise but it was curtailed by the choice to lead into Robert E. Howard’s “Red Nails.”
This first e-book was a mediocre comic-book. But like a comic-book, one mediocre issue won’t keep me away from a favorite character. I’ll continue with the series.
With the apparent resurgence of Sword & Sorcery along with the Heroic Legends series announcement of new Conan adventures I’ve decided to re-look at an old parody of the genre written by the more than capable Poul Anderson.
“The Barbarian” first appeared in the May 1956 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
Poul Anderson has two articles in this issue. “Nice Girls on Mars” and “The Barbarian.” The first article is not really on-topic here, but it is interesting enough for a little detour. The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction is still being published today. It has a respectable history and, in my opinion, overtook Astounding/Analog in quality during the 1950s.
The two articles grouped under “Of Mars and Men” are in reaction to an article by Dr. R. S. Richardson titled “The Day After We Land on Mars,” originally published in the Saturday Review (May 28, 1955). Dr. Richarson stated in the article that citizens of the world “may be forced into first tolerating and finally openly accepting an attitude toward sex that is taboo in our present social framework. To put it bluntly, may it not be necessary for the success of the project to send some nice girls to Mars at regular intervals to relieve tensions and promote morale?”
Rather than accepting “Whores on Mars” which, admittedly, was my first and last thought, Poul Anderson writes a thoughtful article covering various possibilities: married couples, homosexuality, a drug to inhibit the sex drive, and celibate Priests to do space exploration. He concludes that once colonies are established on Mars that there will be new issues to deal with.
The second article by Miriam Allen DeFord is deliberately stated by the editor as being “not feminist, but merely [a] human point of view.” She also writes a thoughtful article. There is the commonsense notion of women as equals, along with talk of bisexuality, and how complex human relationships can be. I found it all somewhat surprising that these issues were discussed more intelligently in 1956 than they are today in 2023!
But enough on that diversion. Let’s deal with “The Barbarian.” It starts with a “parody” introduction full of hit and miss inside jokes. I’m not sure what the name “Cronkheit the Barbarian” parodies? Initially I thought of newscaster Walter Cronkite, but I believe 1956 was too early for his name to be highly recognizable? Miskatonic for Arkham and Pixy for Gnome are fairly clever. I got a laugh out of J. Wellington Wells. (That was a pseudonym Sprague de Camp used for some book reviews in Astounding.) The book titles, “Scull-Race and Others” and “The Coming of Cronkheit” are pretty obvious and weak jokes.
TBH, the parody as a whole is pretty weak. What is mainly of interest to me is that Poul Anderson seems to be poking a bit of fun at not only Robert E. Howard but also at Sprague de Camp and others who enjoy the Conan tales and authors in general who write Sword & Sorcery (although at this stage it was still called “Science-Fantasy.”)
There are some decent jokes along with a lot of corn. I liked the “North European” one in the above introduction and the general theme of the story. The story begins in the form of a letter. The prefect of Sarmia is writing to his nephew. The letter tells of the Barbarian who ruined his life. Sarmia had been in a sort of forever war with Chathakh. There were slight skirmishes, nothing major, and all in all, it actually created a good economy for the leaders.
There is a third party, the Serpens, who might sway the balance of power, so they are worrisome. Trouble starts when Cronkheit the Barbarian shows up:
Before you nod appreciatively and think, “too tall, but that’s my Conan” the “parody” begins in earnest. “I yam Cronkheit duh Barbarian, an’ I wanna audience widjer queen!”
Yep, Cronkheit speaks like a dolt, and is a smelly flea-ridden muscle-bound bore. Rather than tear up the magazine in frustration I continued on. The oversexed queen, despite his many flaws, gets the hots for Cronkheit. Cronkheit is, shall we say, an unsophisticated lover who immediately grabs the queen in a smothering embrace. The guards have to rescue her.
The queen decides to use Cronkheit as a warrior instead of as a lover. The story continues on with mostly unfunny jokes and situations until Cronkheit is sent to attack Chathakh with a small force of men. Rather than being a death sentence for Cronkheit, it is the death sentence for Chathakh. The Barbarian destroys the capital, libraries, works of art, and any possibility of tribute to Sarmia.
This is where the story has some real parody. “Why do you think wars are fought? War is an extension of diplomacy. It’s the final means of making somebody else to do what you want. The object is not to kill them off – how can corpses obey you?” And later, “You’ve left a howling wilderness which we must garrison with our own troops lest the nomads take it over. Your atrocities have alienated every civilized state. You’ve left us alone and friendless. You’ve won this war by losing the next one.”
The Sarmian General then sends Cronkheit to fight on the side of their enemy, the Serpens. The letter (which started this story) concludes “Since then, of course, our affairs have prospered and Serpens is now frantically suing for peace. But we intend to prosecute the war till they meet our terms. We are most assuredly not going to be ensnared by their treacherous plea and take the Barbarian back!”
All in all, not a great parody, I liked the “why wars are fought?” part but the ending doesn’t quite make sense, in my opinion, anyway. Parodies of Conan aren’t really my thing. But parodies occur when something is popular. So… here’s to more parodies.
Bonus:Conquest Comics (more about them in the future) did a comic book adaptaion of the story. It isn’t great but they did make a good observation in that Poul Anderson created a Groo the Wanderer type parody well before Sergio Aragonés.
“My soul’s a flame of divine fire, a god’s voice …” Robert E. Howard
THE POEM “CIMMERIA” is usually placed (by the relatively few critics who have considered Robert E. Howard’s poetry and poetics at all) among Howard’s most important published poems. Admirers and literary critics who have considered chiefly his fiction also see it as significant, primarily because of its connection to the Conan cycle of stories. As Rusty Burke relates the story of the beginnings of Howard’s Conan tales, the poem seems to immediately precede the inspiration for Conan:
“In February 1932, Howard took his trip down to the Rio Grande Valley, passing through Fredericksburg. While he was in Mission, he wrote the poem “Cimmeria” (at least, so he told Emil Petaja when he sent him a copy of the poem: “Written in Mission, Texas, February 1932; suggested by the memory of the hill-country above Fredericksburg seen in a mist of winter rain.”). At some time during his stay in the Valley, Conan came to him. He returned to Cross Plains via San Antonio, where he stayed a few days. “The Phoenix on the Sword” and “The Frost-Giant’s Daughter” were both returned to him by Farnsworth Wright in a letter dated March 10, so obviously had been sent to Weird Tales some time before that.” (Burke, “Without Effort on My Part,” The Iron Harp 1, Vernal Equinox, 2001)
Aside from its seeming importance as the poetic flash that kindled Howard’s imagination to the resultant cycle of Conan tales, the poem is interesting in its own right for several reasons.
First, as one of Howard’s only two uses, as it seems, of blank verse (at least of Howard’s extant poetry), it represents an interesting foray into the dominant serious narrative/dramatic poetic form of the English language.
Second, it further demonstrates Howard’s knowledge of and serious study of poetics and gives further evidence of a broad reading experience in the forms and traditions of poetry in English.
Third, simply by its use of blank verse, the seriousness and significance of the subject matter of the poem to Robert E. Howard is likely indicated.
Fourth, it is a marvelous, although quite brief, example of blank verse technique and a demonstration of Howard’s skills and tendencies as a narrative poet.
Fifth and finally for my purposes here, not only is this poetic subject, as indicated by the choice of poetic form, important for Howard, but it is quite possibly of seminal importance to an understanding of his world view and philosophical vision, especially because of its last section—often not included in early printings.
Before addressing these points, it is best to briefly review the origins and tradition of blank verse and its ascendency as a vehicle for heroic narrative and dramatic presentation.
“Blank Verse” in its loosest definition is unrhymed but metered poetry (in other words, verse and not free verse, but without rhyme). In its usual and narrower sense, blank verse is unrhymed iambic pentameter (lines of ten syllables with the even numbered syllables stressed or accented—at least as the basic rhythm, from which there is allowable subtle variation). Sometimes even called “Heroics” [see Lewis Turco, The Book of Forms], blank verse has been firmly established as the primary mode for serious poetic narrative in English since the sixteenth century.
To give credit where credit is due for its introduction into English, we must go back to another Howard, Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey (often called simply “Surrey”) who used the form in his translation of Virgil’s The Aeneid. Surrey was also the inventor of the sonnet form later used by Shakespeare and since known as the “Shakespearean” or “English” sonnet. [Alas, for Surrey! But such are the ways of fame and forgetfulness.] In any event, Surry’s use of blank verse, done chiefly in “closed lines”— in lines usually end-stopped by punctuation— marked the beginning of the narrative and heroic traditions that blank verse was to maintain.
The plays, not only of Shakespeare, but also of Thomas Kyd, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben Jonson, were composed primarily in this meter as well, establishing blank verse as the vehicle for serious dramatic poetry in that other important mode of storytelling. Later in the seventeenth century, John Milton used it for Paradise Lost. And after the chiming, rhyming heyday of the closed couplet through the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, nineteenth century poets like Tennyson (“Ulysses” and The Idylls of the Kingand Browning (“Fra Lippo Lippi“) reinvigorated the form for both narrative and dramatic purposes, respectively. In Robert E. Howard’s own era, Robert Frost made much use of the form in poems like “Mending Wall” and [after Shakespeare as is clear from the title’s reference to Macbeth]“Out, out!”
Thus, by the time of Robert E. Howard’s nurturing in the ways of poetry, the dominant narrative poetic traditions in English were two: blank verse and the ballad. I have elsewhere discussed Howard’s frequent and innovative use of the ballad stanza as his preferred narrative form [see “Notes on Two Versions of an Unpublished Poem by Robert E. Howard” in The Dark Man #6 and other articles]. Much more study on REH’s preferred narrative pattern and innovation upon the ballad stanza— both the traditional and literary ballad— and upon his use of other exotic forms for the narrative (especially the sonnet) needs to be done. But his almost sole use of blank verse for “Cimmeria” is worthy of this and other studies.
First of all, the poem is the unique instance of blank verse among Howard’s published poetry at the time of this posting. Which is the more remarkable in that it is—by the same standards that T. S. Eliot used in his praise of Christopher Marlowe’s blank verse—both enjambed (making much use of run-on lines rather than end-punctuated, end-stopped, end-paused) and melodious. It demonstrates a fine balance between prose narrative sentence delivery and poetic metered undertones and also displays Howard’s very fine phonic sense, his “ear” for the sounds of words—beyond their meanings.
Likely the best way to establish Howard’s view of himself as a poet as well as a “fictioneer” is to examine his own words in the letters that have been left to us. If one studies the two collections, ably edited by Glenn Lord [Selected Letters: 1923-1930 and 1931-1936, Necronomicon Press] with an eye for REH’s mention of poetry and verse, one will be assured of his developing interest in and continuing study of poetic forms and poetic traditions and his growing sense of urgency not only to become an accomplished poet, but a published poet worthy of note. In his exchange of letters [inclusive of much of his poetic work that survives] he and his friend Tevis Clyde Smith discussed not only poetry and their own work as poets, but, indeed, move toward a planned joint publication (the never-published Images Out of the Sky [although Smith later published his own volume with that title]).
But it began roughly. In an unpublished letter to Smith, written January 14, 1926, it is clear that Howard had doubts and early disillusionment concerning his poetic skills. What is also clear, if we are to believe his own words, is that he labored hard at his poetry and the honing of his poetic talents and was already by age 20 a great reader of poetry and a student of the great poets:
“I’m a failure. Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Rich aint it? All day I’ve tried to write poetry. I’ve worked. Hell, how I’ve worked. Changing, revising, aw hell! My stuff is so infernally barren, so damnably small. I read the poems of some great author and while they uplift me, they assure me of my failure. Hell, hell, hell. My souls a flame of divine fire, a gods [sic.] voice and damn me damn me damn me, I cant give it a human, worldly voice. No wonder most poets drink themselves into the gutter and out again and into the mire.” [Emphasis mine.]
In an important letter to Smith in January of 1928, Howard, then 22 and at the beginning of his great run as a published author and poet wrote, regarding his own poetry:
“. . . I never made any pretensions toward poetry. I never send any verse to any but close friends who know that I know my limitations and therefore do not expect anything great from me.” (Lord, ed., Selected Letters I 10)
Howard realized that there was no money in publishing poetry, but this did not deter him. In November 1928, after receiving a letter from the editor of The Poet’s Scroll telling him that they would publish his sonnet, “Flaming Marble,” Howard wrote to Smith:
“Anyway, you can’t expect to make anything out of rhyme. They don’t pay anything for verse, of course, but they give small prizes now and then and I believe I can win some of them.” (Lord, ed., Selected Letters I 22)
In a letter in May of 1931, Howard wrote to Smith:
“I hope to Hell you and I can bring out a volume of verse soon.” (Lord, ed., Selected Letters II, 11)
And in September of that year, he wrote:
“I wish we could get out a book of verse before we get too old and feeble to peddle them from door to door.” (Lord, ed., Selected Letters II, 11)
Despite that tone of levity, Robert E. Howard was pretty clearly by that time much more confident of his skill and potential as a poet.
But let’s return to the poem “Cimmeria,” and focus upon this rare example of Howardian blank verse. Howard’s only other blank verse poem that I’ve been able to discover is “Secrets” which is an interesting brief horrific-erotic fantasy narrative about the I-narrator’s enthrallment by a mysterious serpent that sends him forth as a vampire.
I believe that the mere fact that Howard chooses blank verse for this poem, singles it out as important. In his mind, the poem, the place (perhaps “places”) that inspired it, and the places and characters inspired by it were special and numinous. Howard was certainly aware of the significance of blank verse as the lofty heroic meter for the English language. To him, I believe, this poem had to rise above the level and relative informality of the ballad.
Perhaps sensing that the prose elaborations of Conan, kindled by this inspired poetic occasion—seemingly of no more duration than a few days in the writing and of no more than perhaps a few moments of one inspiration-triggering vista [reminding the reader of Rusty Burke’s quote above]—would burgeon into a prose sequence, Howard sets forth the heroic verse of “Cimmeria” as the foundation of what would become his best-known fictional cycle. Howard was fitting the high seriousness of the form to the high seriousness and significance of the occasion for him as a writer.
The often originally omitted last section of the poem [they are “sections” rather than “stanzas” due to the irregular numbers of lines] is significant to both my fourth and final points. The section follows:
Oh, soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills, To clouds and winds and ghosts that shun the sun, How many deaths shall serve to break at last This heritage which wraps me in the grey Apparel of ghosts? I search my heart and find Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.
(as it appears in The Howard Collector #7, Winter 1965, where it was first published)
Technically, this exhibits the poetic flow achieved as Howard makes fine use of enjambment, breaking out of the end-stopped first two lines to conclude with the fine rolling cadences of the final four, rolling from one line to the next in the fairly regular iambic pentameter base (lines 2, 3, and 4 exhibit the base meter quite well: u/u/u/u/u/ [note: I’m using “u” for unstressed/unaccented and “/” for stressed/accented syllable]). But Howard was not a slave to that basic metrical plan, varying it frequently in the poem, but specifically:
⦁ in line 1 of the final section by inverting the third foot, using a trochee (/ u) rather than an iamb (u /): u / u / / u u / u / Oh soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills,
⦁ in lines 5 and, more subtly in 6, of the final section by substituting anapestic feet (u u /) for iambic (u /) in the second position: u / u u / u / u / u / Apparel of ghosts? I search my heart and find u / u u / u / u \ u / Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.
⦁ in the final section, showing nice use of secondary stress or promotion of the syllable (“\”) for rhythmic variation with “and” in the final line.
⦁ He also uses extrametrical syllables as in the last line of the second section and the penultimate line of the third, adding an unaccented 11th syllable.
In addition to metrical variation and the achievement of flow through the use of enjambment, Howard also demonstrates his customary ear for echoing effects by including alliteration: “soul” and “shadowed” in line 1, “grey” and “ghosts” in lines 3 and 4, and “search” and “Cimmeria” in lines 5 and 6. He uses both alliteration and internal rhyme in line two with “shun” and “sun.”
Finally, the poem’s unmetrical, fragmentary opening: “I remember . . . ” combines with the final two sections to clearly delineate the theme of reincarnation. “It was so long ago and far away / I have forgot the very name men called me” and “How many deaths shall serve to break at last / This heritage which wraps me in the grey / apparel of ghosts . . .” leave us little room to doubt this note resounding through the poem.
from Marvel’s Savage Tales 2, p.50, art by Barry Windsor Smith
But is the poem merely an inspired fictive musing, the “I” voice merely a literary persona? Is the poem only to be seen as the seed whence Conan the Cimmerian springs forth? I think not. Rather, I believe that this mystical vision of previous lives and incarnations was part of Howard’s essential philosophy as it evolved the last few years of his brief life. There is more in the letters, other poems, and his fiction to support this, but enough for this discussion to suggest it here.
One important question for further study and debate is the nature of the “I” in the poem. Written—by Howard’s own statements at any rate—before the conception of Conan as a character (albeit shortly before), we might understand this “I” who remembers the vistas of the dim land and the hauntings of past lives depicted in the poem as Howard himself. Is this Cimmeria only a land of Howard’s imagination, clearly understood as such by the young poet, or is it an attempt to express a faintly perceived belief, the dimly seen “truth” of a racial memory? Be that as it may. But, without doubt, it is the still unembodied voice of a character evolving, a shape emerging from the mist of Howard’s creative imagination who will soon be born to full manhood and named Conan.
Please check out Frank’s webpage: Mind’s Eye Publications. Lots of good information and opportunities for fantasy fans and professionals. Frank is seeking submissions for his journal, JOURN-E, and planned themed anthologies. Click on these provided links. Thanks for reading.
There are undoubtedly rarer Conan stories, but this is probably the rarest “authorized” pastiche. “Conan and the Devil’s Daughter” appeared on the conan.com website that existed when the Conan the Adventurer live-action TV series was airing.
No one was a big fan of the show. It was too cheaply produced; not especially faithful to any Robert E. Howard or L. Sprague de Camp & Lin Carter story (although “The Tower of the Elephant” and “The Thing in the Crypt” were slightly adapted in the first two episodes), and although (other than Danny Woodburn) the cast was heavily muscled and looked their parts none (again other than Danny Woodburn) were very capable actors.
The series was collected in a DVD set that now commands high prices on eBay:
I admit to a vague appreciation of the episode entitled “A Friend in Need.” I recently watched it during Howard Days 2023 when in the company of Art McGee and Aurelia Wilder. Neither of them was impressed but we all agreed (or at least they accepted my enjoyment of it) that the final swordfight between Ralf Moeller and Matthias Hues was decent.
Anyway, onward…
Threshold Entertainment was the IP holder back in the day and tried to maintain a relationship with Conan fans through their website. (Frankly, they did a better job than the current IP holders.) They had an active chat board and the site featured various articles that ranged from scholarly to kitschy. One of the more interesting items featured on the website was “Conan and the Devil’s Daughter” by Eldon Asp.
The story begins with Conan, down on his luck, venturing to Shadizar in search of work. Confronted by missionaries warning him against proceeding into the sinful town, they ask him his name: “My name is Conan. And Mitra can’t rightly forgive a soul already damned to Hell by that old bastard, Crom.”
Conan enters a sub-section of the city known as Poisontown. A large two-story bar and whorehouse known as Arallu’s Gate is his destination. Conan notices that most of the crowd is rather strange. Boisterous and lively but at times strangely subdued. Conan is served a drink containing a green glowing liquid with a large spider floundering at the bottom of the glass. Conan realizes that this drink must be causing the odd behavior of most of the patrons.
Conan refuses the drink and orders Ale. Conan speaks to the barmaid in code, and she leaves to fetch her boss. A barfight occurs (as in most every pastiche) and Conan proves he is a real badass.
Conan then meets Tarik Harkates. Conan had been recommended for employment by an acquaintance of Tarik. Tarik takes a liking to Conan and hires him as a bouncer. Harkates works with an old wizard named Li-Tsung. Conan learns the lay of the place, has altercations with two other employees, and eventually becomes chief bouncer and headmaster of the whores. Conan gives the women a better deal letting them keep more of their earnings. Thus, softening any reservations that the reader may have about Conan becoming a pimp.
Conan learns of a rival tavern. It seems most people come to Arallu’s Gate for the narcotic spider drink and then go to the competitor for the entertainment. In a funny bit of dialogue Conan skeptically asks about the “enchanting siren” of The Jeweled Lotus:
“Ask someone who’s seen her. I’m not doing it justice. They say she’s not human!”
“What is she, a monkey?”
“Scoff all you want. I’ve seen how much business we lost when she showed up in town. People can’t get enough of her! I’ve heard it said she’s a goddess and a demon both.”
Conan, intrigued, goes to see the woman.
I’ll quit here as I don’t want to spoil the tale for those who may read it someday. All in all, I rather liked it. There is humor, gore, and a decent story. Sure, it is padded out, but the in-between adventures lend themselves to the overall story. It would be worthy of a reprint.
Searching the web for this story produces zero results. Searching for “Eldon Asp” did result in some information about the author. He has written for Image Comics, co-wrote a novel, and has written a screenplay.
Most likely, “Conan and the Devil’s Daughter” was written as “work for hire” and the copyright is held by the current IP holders. I will contact Fred Malmberg and/or Steve Saffel to see if they are even aware of this novella and inquire as to its possible reprinting as I know I am not the only Conan completist in REH/Conan fandom.
spraguedecampfan 