During
your correspondent’s misspent youth – back when dinosaurs ruled the earth – he
spent most of his summer vacations reading the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950).
Yes …
most of you have just lost what little respect for me that you may have
had. However, I believe you judge too
harshly. I say without shame and in
complete candor that some of the people I met in my ramblings through ERB’s
corpus are among the most important literary friendships that I have made. Tarzan
of the Apes, John Carter of Mars
and the explorers of the subterranean world of Pellucidar, where intelligent reptiles live at the Earth’s core,
are as real to me to this day as many actual human beings that I have met in
later life. And some of them even make
better friends.
No one
will argue for a moment that ERB is a prose stylist, or that his insight into
human nature was a rare and subtle one.
More damming to his literary reputation are his sensibilities and taste
for high adventure; most modern novels are simply slices of life that may
better labeled why we are miserable now. ERB has no patience for that type of thinking
or that type of narrative. ERB wrote
adventure stories – set in some of the most exotic places on and off of the
planet – and they were unabashedly plot-driven.
If you want know the plight of unhappy men in a midlife crisis, or women
struggling for identity in a world redefined by feminism, look elsewhere. Want to learn how a Civil War soldier
miraculously transported to Mars, befriends four-armed green giants and battles
rampaging, carnivorous white apes, and you’ve come to the right place.
Minds as
brilliant and creative as Carl Sagan
(1934-1996), Gore Vidal (1925-2012), Ray
Bradbury (1920-2012), William Joyce
(born 1957) and Jane Goodall (born
1934) have all credited him as an influence, and his contribution to global
popular culture is incalculable.
Whatever
the faults or strengths of his particular novels, what is most remarkable about
his work is the experience of reading
ERB. The adventure novels of ERB has the
remarkable quality of affecting the reader in ways unexpected and serendipitous. Aside from (not so) simple narrative
pleasures as a compelling storyline and absolutely unfettered imagination, it
is impossible to read ERB without a sense of delight and of wonder. In the world of ERB, all bets are off and
most anything is possible. There is a
sense of energy, drive and, for want of a better word … pep. ERB is a tonic; read him and grow young
again.
And …
ERB believed in adventure. Much of the literary establishment has
written off ERB not only for his prose, but also for his abundant output and
for his choice of genre. ERB was no
hack, churning out novels at a penny a word.
Rather, ERB lived in an imaginative landscape that was a real to him as
the workday world is real to us. His
Martian society, the (mostly invented) African jungle of Tarzan, and the land
at the Earth’s Core all share a sense of … conviction. In his way, ERB was a serious novelist--as
his worlds mattered to him; there was a compelling urgency to his vision that
is evident in his fiction.
Finally,
ERB had a very definite sense of what life should
be. Unlike many contemporary writers,
ERB let it be known that life was for living.
Or, as the hero in Beyond Thirty
says when finding land:
"It is the nearest land,"
I replied. "I have always wanted to explore the forgotten lands of the
Eastern Hemisphere. Here's our chance. To remain at sea is to perish. None of
us ever will see home again. Let us make the best of it, and enjoy while we do
live that which is forbidden the balance of our race—the adventure and the
mystery which lie beyond thirty."
I was
thinking about Burroughs recently when I luckily came across his book Beyond
Thirty while rummaging through the invaluable www.manybooks.net. This is a resource of public domain books available
for free download – and if you want to learn more about ERB, there is no better
place to start.
At any
rate, I cannot think of the summers of my past without thinking, too, of
ERB. I make it a point to at least
revisit one of his novels every summer, or, if possible, read one I have not
come across before. Beyond Thirty
(sometimes also called The Lost Continent), was first published in All Around Magazine, and did not appear
in book form in ERB’s lifetime. It was
collected in book form first in 1955, and later in 1963 with a delightful cover
by artist Frank Frazetta (1928-2010).
The story
takes place in 2137, when Pan-American’s Navy Lieutenant Jefferson Turck,
commander of aero-submarine Coldwater, patrols the 30th meridian
from Iceland to the Azores. The ship’s
anti-gravitation screens fail, and it drifts beyond the forbidden territory
into Europe.
Europe
had been off limits to Pan-America since the start of the Great War in the
early 20th Century, and Turck and a handful of loyal men find
themselves in a now savage landscape that was once the civilized world. Ladies and gentlemen, Beyond Thirty is a
corker.
Most science
fiction is never really about the future – but, rather, serves as a distorted
mirror to the present. Written in 1915,
the world was then plunging into the conflict of the Great War. The vast majority of the American population (and
their politicians) favored an isolationist approach. What would the world be like, ERB seems to
ask, if the New World withdrew from the world stage? It would appear as if ERB anticipated the
American Century before most of the world did – for his tale tells of a unified
North, Central and South America that has achieved many marvels of
super-science, while war-ravaged Europe perishes when left to its own devices.
Also interesting
is what ERB posits happens to a Europe ravaged by global conflict without
American intervention. In short, England
descends into barbarism, the countryside now ravaged by wild animals that were
once kept in zoos. Continental Europe is
now largely enslaved by Moslems from Abyssinia – who are using slave labor and
whatever military expertise they have to prepare for a definitive conflict with
the sleeping giant that is China. With a
little tweaking, it would seem as if the foreign policy concerns of a century
ago were as pressing today as they were then.
Beyond
Thirty is a remarkable and satisfying romp by one of the masters of the
form. It is an extremely short novel,
and as a free download, would serve as a terrific introduction to the imagination
of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
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