The Wizard of Lemuria

The fantasy community has always had a schizophrenic response to Lin Carter. Mention his stint as the editor of the justly renowned Ballantine Adult Fantasy series and you’ll hear plaudits (from readers of a certain generation at least.) Carter was the man responsible for bringing a bunch of neglected classics back into print. He had a hand in kickstarting the great fantasy boom of the 1960s. Mention his own fantasy writing, on the other hand, and you’ll be greeted with much shaking of heads.

It has to be said that the head-shaking is, for the most part, justified. The overwhelming impression left by Carter’s work is of the wholesale appropriation of other writer’s characters, prose styles and plots.

If Robert E Howard wanted to be Conan, Lin Carter wanted to be Robert E Howard ( or H.P. Lovecraft or Edgar Rice Burroughs or whoever else he happened to be channeling that day.) Therein lies the difference between the two writers. Howard was expressing his own vivid inner fantasy life. Carter did not have the sort of neurosis from which the authors he admired derived so much of their writing’s power.

The thing you can’t deny about Carter is that he had a deep and abiding love for the genre. He did his level best to express it in the enormous number of books he wrote. His most interesting work came during the times when he attempted to fuse the styles and subject matter of a number of his influences. The Thongor of Lemuria series is like that. The elevator pitch for The Wizard of Lemuria is simple. Imagine if Conan was the hero of Edgar Rice Burroughs Martian series.

The Howard influence is revealed in the steel-thewed figure of Thongor of Valkarth, barbarian warrior from the North with his elemental distrust of civilisation and magic. Thongor’s world, like Conan’s, is Earth’s ancient past, the primordial supercontinent of Lemuria.

The rest of the trappings are cheerfully lifted from Edgar Rice Burroughs. There are the kingdoms that are really city-states. There are gravity defying airships. The names and terminology (Karm Karvus, otar of a hundred) could have come straight from Barsoom. Dinosaurs stalk those primordial jungles that would have been at home in Pellucidar. There are beautiful princesses and noble swordsmen and villains who would twirl their mustachios if they had any.

The writing is often awful. At one point during The Wizard of Lemuria we are told that Thongor’s blood “quite literally froze in his veins.” We are often informed things like “for the mighty barbarian to think was to act”, when there is no evidence that any thinking is going on at all. Carter’s way to emphasise the horror of the perilous situations in which our hero finds himself was to write in italics, preferably with exclamation marks!

The sets, like the characters, are purest cardboard. The plots creak along on an endless treadmill of hairsbreadth escapes, cliffhangers and fights.

The Wizard of Lemuria opens with our hero being forced into a duel with the cheating dishonourable scumbag who is captain of his unit. The man practically forces Thongor to dispatch him despite being given every opportunity to do the right thing by the honourable barbarian.

In short order our hero is imprisoned to await execution, escapes, steals the prototype airship with which the local dictator plans to conquer the world, and flies off with it. He then decides to have a nap while the airship thunders through the night. He awakes, having avoided flying into a mountain, to find out that not only is he way off course, he is being attacked by giant pterodactyls.

During the course of this single chapter he is knocked out (again), dangles from the end of a safety rope over the jaws of a gigantic mutated T. Rex and is stranded in the jungle, his newly aquired airship wrecked.

We are only three short chapters into the book and the main plot has yet to kick in. Soon our hero will be recruited by the titular wizard, Sharajsha, to take part in a collect-the-coupons quest to reforge an ancient magical sword and prevent the summoning of the Lords of Chaos by the loathsome pre-human reptile men known as the Dragon Kings. There’s a lot going on in a volume that is less than 40000 words long.

It’s as if the author had decided that the pace of Howard and Burroughs was just too slow and the solution was to strip out anything that was not action. It reads like the write-up of a particularly violent old school D&D game. Its the sort of pulp fiction that does not get written any more, and thank God for that, most people are likely to say.

And yet…

And yet, there are times when it is just the sort of thing I want to read. I admit those times are rare but the Thongor books provide a sort of comfort food for the mind. I want to read them in the same way as I want to eat the stodgy Scottish food my grandmother used to cook for Sunday lunch when I was a boy.

I genuinely like the setting. Somehow, by ransacking the works of Howard and Burroughs, Carter manages to create something original. The super-science separates his primordial world from Hyboria and gives it an odd Universal Studios mad scientist movie feel.

There is something in the sheer pulpiness that appeals to me. Carter’s love of his subject shines through. You can tell that here is a man writing exactly what he wants to be writing, even if its not exactly what you want to be reading.

You could say the books were precisely the sort of thing calculated to appeal to unsophisticated teenage boys back in the day, but you would be being unfair to unsophisticated teenage boys. Even as a thirteen year old I was aware of the flaws. I just did not care. I mean, come on! Beautiful princesses, dinosaurs, flying ships, slimy Dragon Kings plotting to return ancient Lovecraftian deities. What’s not to love?

Radio Archives

I got into pulp in my teens by way of Sword and Sorcery and the great Weird Tales authors; Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith and H. P. Lovecraft. This was back in the early 70’s when there was very definitely a pulp renaissance under way. I am not entirely sure why that was. I suspect that there was probably a generation of people working in publishing who were as nostalgic for the comfort reading of their youths as I now am for the comfort reading of mine.

It probably didn’t do any harm that there were vast stocks of pulp writing just waiting to be reprinted. The 20s and 30s were in many ways the golden age of popular fiction magazines, an age before television had superseded print as the medium for popular entertainment. Close at hand, lay Conan, Kull, Solomon Kane, all of the strange story cycles of Clark Ashton Smith’s Hyperborea, Zothique and Averoigne, the complete Cthulhu mythos. And that’s just to mention the work of the three titans of thirties weird. 

Shortly after I had this formative encounter, a second wave of pulp revival hit the shores of Scotland, possibly a little later than it hit the rest of the world. It consisted of reprints of Doc Savage and the Shadow, the two demigods of pulp adventure. I was big into Marvel comics back then and these were proto-super-heroes of the first order. In many ways Clark Savage Junior was the prototype of all those bright philanthropic ubermensch such as Superman, and the Shadow seemed  the forerunner of aggressive outsider vigilantes such as Batman.

The second wave of pulps ran its course much faster where I lived and there were never too many samples available but I grabbed those I could find and consumed them the way I consumed everything back then, as quickly as possible. I’ve picked up one or two when I’ve seen them but it’s not been often enough. They became something of a secondary interest for me, and I tapped into them often enough back when I used to run role-playing games such as Justice Inc  and Mercenaries, Spies and Private Eyes. 

Anyway, I was reading James Reasoner’s blog recently and I came across a review of a release by Radio Archives of the old Operator 5 series. This sent me scurrying across to the Radio Archives site and there I found an absolute treasure trove of pulp. Ebook versions of many of the great pulp series such as the Spider, facsimiles of 30s magazines, print omnibuses of the Shadow books even audiobook and CDs of the old radio shows. This was just an awesome archive of the sort of pulp I had never got a chance to get my hands on back in my youth. Take a look at those cover reprints!

I skipped over to Amazon and discovered to my delight that the ebooks were available there so I picked up the omnibus edition of the first four issues of The Spider, Master of Men. This was excellent value, containing ( as far as I can tell) the complete contents of the original magazines as well as an introduction by Will Murray. No doubt a review of this purchase will follow at some point. 

This is one of the joys of the age of ebooks for me. I can suddenly get my hands on all of this stuff, easily and instantly and at a very reasonable price. If you’ve any interest in this sort of thing, you should take a look. There’s everything from detectives stories to range-land romances.