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Chronologically Speaking is a series focused solely on chronologizing the Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'm examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, to show explicit chronological notes to order the stories. "Rogues in the House" was first published in the January 1934 issue of Weird Tales, about three months after readers had been treated to their previous Conan story, "The Pool of the Black One." The story appeared seventh in the mag and didn't make the cover, suggesting perhaps a lack of confidence in this entry in the Conan saga. If that's what they felt, it was certainly misguided, as "Rogues" is a through-and-through banger.  
All of the above leads me to conclude that within our chronology so far, "Rogues" should be only the second in the timeline. I think the elements that put it after "The Tower of the Elephant" are a little weak, though. It's mostly my interpretation of how Conan's thieving and combat skills are described. There's nothing that's a smoking gun, so it could go first. Here is the updated chronology.
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Chronologically Speaking is a series focused solely on chronologizing the Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'm examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, to show explicit chronological notes to order the stories. September and October 1933 in Weird Tales were a one-two punch of short Conan stories, with "The Pool of the Black One" coming just one month after "Xuthal of the Dusk." Both of them are a bit of a downturn from the highs of "The Tower of the Elephant" and "Black Colossus," but things would bounce back soon enough with "Rogues in the House" in January of '34. Unlike the last two stories explored in this series, "Pool" didn't make the cover and it wasn't the lead story in the October issue; instead, it appeared third. "Pool" was the first pirate Conan story to be published, but it wouldn't be the last. It features one of the coolest entrances Conan ever makes, swimming up and onto a boat out of seeming nowhere.  
Honestly, I think the thing that is most illustrative about the placement of this story along the timeline is Conan's characterization himself. He is so eminently controlled, so smooth and unbothered. He keeps his mouth shut and is content to just smile and leave comments unremarked upon. We see some of his fabled "gigantic mirth" when he's gambling with the rest of the sailors. It's a Conan much more similar to the King Conan of "The Phoenix on the Sword" and "The Scarlet Citadel" to the brutish outlander of "The Tower of the Elephant" or "Xuthal of the Dusk." He seems to be even more smooth than in his considerable growth shown in "Black Colossus." For now, I'm placing this before the King Conan stories. The updated chronology is here:
 I will stop short of saying that Robert E. Howard was obsessed with the idea of ancestral memory, but I will at least say that he was preoccupied by it. The concept of reincarnation, and the reincarnated being able to in some way perceive their past lives through the veil of time, should be familiar-enough to Conan fans. The very first Conan work, the poem "Cimmeria" begins with the words, "I remember," implying a truth in it passed down through the blood of generations. Even earlier than that, ancestral memory was the key plot point in Howard's "People of the Dark," published in the June 1932 issue of Strange Tales. Even just on the Contents page, it advertises a tale ripped "out of the past." As would-be murderer John O'Brien of the present takes a blow to the head, he accesses a past life from hundreds of years ago. Now, this story's "Conan of the Reavers" is not considered by modern consensus to be entirely the same character as Conan of Cimmeria (despite Conan also being characterize as a "reaver" in the Nemedian Chronicles), but they bear great similarities. In addition to the above-mentioned poem and story, Howard would use the concept as the key plot conceit in his James Allison stories, which featured a somewhat fictionalized version of himself remembering his past lives. Of these past lives as a stint as Hunwulf, the Aesir raider living in Conan's Hyborian Age.  A comic book representation of James Allison Within the James Allison stories, Allison speaks of himself as one and the same as these former incarnations while he narrates their adventures: "I recognize his kinship with the entity now called James Allison. Kinship? Say rather oneness. I am he; he is I." The first James Allison story Howard penned was "The Valley of the Worm," published in the February 1934 issue of Weird Tales, and it was very well-received. The rest weren't so lucky. The only other one that would see publication during Howard's life was "The Garden of Fear," but it wouldn't be in the pages of WT. Instead, editor Farnsworth Wright passed on it, so Howard handed it to the magazine Marvel Tales for free. "The Garden of Fear" is a pretty good, brief Hyborian Age-set story. In it, Hunwulf of the Aesir sees his ladyfriend Gudrun kidnapped by a black, winged creature and taken to an ancient tower surrounded by carniverous flowers. It's romantic in a way, but only in the way that Weird Tales stories frequently position hulky dudes to save damsels. There's some cool world-building, and the page count flies by. If you haven't read it, but are thinking about reading this book, you probably should (it won't take you long) but the whole thing is also recapped by Hunwulf to Conan within Cult of the Obsidian Moon's pages.  There are a handful of James Allison stories, but only those scant two were completed or published during Howard's lifetime. James Allison appears in the Conan comic event "Battle of the Black Stone" from last year, and is the framing device in the novel Conan: Cult of the Obsidian Moon, released about the same time. The framing device presents this Conan story as one of James Allison's remembered tales which is being submitted to the fictional magazine Anomalous Adventures, a fun little send-up to Weird Tales. Both the comic event and the novel follow in the tradition of smashing Howard elements together, combining the characters into classic team-up. "Battle of the Black Stone" puts all of Howard's best-known characters into a type of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen across time: Solomon Kane, El Borak, Conrad and Kirowan, Dark Agnes de Chastillon, etc. Obsidian Moon, which is subtitled "A Black Stone Novel," has Conan encounter Hunwulf and Gudrun of "The Garden of Fear." It also postulates that the winged creature who stole Gudrun in her original story was also related to the creature that killed Belit in "Queen of the Black Coast." Conan and the Aesir couple become fast friends and Conan is goaded into training their son in combat. Of course, it's not long before things go sideways and send the adults after a cadre of kidnapped village children, all taken mysteriously by winged men.  In the novel, Conan is recognized as a pirate, lately of the Black Coast, and is even named Amra by a character early on. Elsewhere Conan refers to the plots of "The Tower of the Elephant," "The Frost-Giant's Daughter," and "Rogues of the House," by mentioning an elephant god and a giant spider, a snowy woman who disappeared from under his hands, and an ape-man dressed as a priest. There are several places that this novel could go, chronologically. Many stories seem to be set some time in Conan's early-to-mid career as a mercenary, mostly in Shem. It fits in nicely alongside John C. Hocking's Conan work, so it probably belongs right before "Hawks Over Shem" and "Black Colossus." There's quite a bit to enjoy in Cult of the Obsidian Moon. The couple of Hunwulf and Gudrun are really likeable, but would definitely qualify as a Gary Stu and a Mary Sue, respectively. The novel puts Conan in proximity to children, which is kind of unique for a Conan story, so we see how he interacts with Hunwulf and Gudrun's son, Bjorn. And I'm always down for a cult of zealots and a lost city. There's a fair bit that I think will turn off longtime Conan readers, too. The Conan of Cult of the Obsidian Moon makes me think of the cover of Savage Sword #36's cover by Earl Norem: square-jawed and mostly clean-cut, this is Conan at his absolute most friendly and superheroic. He's perhaps a bit too good with kids, instantly winning young friends effortlessly as he goes. It's also much more of a fantasy novel than a sword-and-sorcery story. There's magic abound and it's noticeably less dark than some Conan fare.  I found it a little odd that the titular Obsidian Moon cult isn't even mentioned until 189 pages into a 286 page novel. It's not a deal-breaker, I was just sitting there wondering why it was called that for at least half of the book. Additionally, I'm not trying to nitpick too much, but if James Allison's genetic memories are supposedly of the life of Hunwulf, why is Conan the point of view character? It makes less sense the more I think about it. The novel isn't strongly connected to the comic event at all; you could read both without ever knowing the other title exists and you'd lose nothing (which I think is a plus- complicated reading orders are a scam), but the connections basically make for little Easter eggs if you've read both. I'm not trying to dissuade you from checking out Obsidian Moon. It was pretty decent. I'm left wondering if I found it at the right time- I spent a bunch of a weekend at a campground near Buford, Wyoming reading it while people drank ale and engaged in mock combat since my wife is a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. Out of Titan Books' recent Conan novels (I'm starting to think of them as the "silhouette cover set"), it's easily the middle of the pack. It doesn't reach the excellent heights of John Hocking's City of the Dead work, but it easily clears the more recent Songs of the Slain. I wouldn't mind seeing more crossovers between Howard properties, which we may see soon enough with what's happening in the pages of Savage Sword these days! ★★★☆☆  Chronologically Speaking is a series focused solely on chronologizing the Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'm examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, to show explicit chronological notes to order the stories. It's Cimmerian September, so it's appropriate that the next story in publication order first appeared in the September 1933 issue of Weird Tales. Appearing a few months after "Black Colossus," "Xuthal of the Dusk" was published under the title "The Slithering Shadow." Most people that I know prefer to use Howard's original and (in my opinion, at least) more unique title. Like "Black Colossus," it was the cover story, with the Margaret Brundage illustration on the front showing the characters Natala and Thalis.   So far, our entries in this series have been pretty simple to order: Conan is very mature or very young, or right in between the two. "Xuthal" is going to require a lot more interpretation than the King Conan stories or some of his first. Here are the contextual timeline clues we have.
This is my first sort of big shakeup to my original chronology. I originally had "Xuthal" much later, based on what I would now consider a misreading of the original story. A year or so ago, I called Conan an officer in Shem's military, but I was making assumptions there that aren't really that supported by the text. It never explicitly says he's an officer. I'll be placing this one earlier in Conan's mercenary days and prior to "Black Colossus." A lot of stories put this one much further on in Conan's life, usually just before his pirate period with the Barachans as seen in "Red Nails." I wonder if there's something I'm missing. Shoot me a comment if you think there is! Here is our current chronology:
Chronologically Speaking is a series focused solely on chronologizing the Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'm examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, to show explicit chronological notes to order the stories. "Black Colossus" is the fourth Conan story to reach publication, hitting magazine racks in the July 1933 issue of Weird Tales. Howard earned $130 from Farnsworth Wright and came three months after the previous publication, "The Tower of the Elephant." As a first for Howard, the story graced the cover and was the first story in the issue's contents.   "Black Colossus" features one of the best openings in any Robert E. Howard story but Conan isn't even seen until well into chapter 2, at which point, his physical description is made clear immediately.
"Black Colossus" is not just very easy to place in our timeline so far, but it may be the most geographically-focused of all Howard's stories. Perhaps the "Hyborian Age" essay was helping him keep things straight, because the geography of the central Hyborian Age kingdoms is extremely well-crafted. Also, Conan's birth on a battlefield is mentioned for the first time, an oft-cited characteristic of his youth. Here is our updated chronology.
Chronologically Speaking is a series focused solely on chronologizing the Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'm examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, to show explicit chronological notes to order the stories. "The Tower of the Elephant" was the third Conan story published, appearing in the March 1933 issue of Weird Tales, which followed two months after "The Scarlet Citadel's" publication in January. According to biographers like Willard Oliver, it was not the third story written. By the time Howard banged out "The Tower of the Elephant," sitting at his typewriter late at night and reading his words aloud as he typed them, he had already written "The Phoenix on the Sword," "The Frost-Giant's Daughter," "The God in the Bowl," and his "The Hyborian Age" essay. Unfortunately, two of those would be rejected by Farnsworth Wright at Weird Tales and the essay wasn't intended for publication. Though Howard sent WT "The Tower of the Elephant" before "The Scarlet Citadel," it would ultimately be published third, netting Howard $95 and the votes from the readership as the best story of the issue. If you put a gun to my head and told me to pick a favorite Conan story, it would probably be this one.   Whereas the first two published stories are at the end of Conan's life during his kingship, "Tower" zooms way back to the start, when Conan is a penniless thief who's new to civilization. Most of the chronological clues happen at the very beginning of the story.
The updated chronology is as follows:
Chronologically Speaking is a series I'm starting here focused solely on the chronology of Conan of Cimmeria stories. It's an analysis of only the text of Robert E. Howard's original Conan tales. I'll be examining the stories one at a time, in publication order, but because it's impossible to order a sequence of one, I'll be starting with the first two Conan tales published: "The Phoenix on the Sword" and "The Scarlet Citadel."  The temporal relationship between "The Phoenix on the Sword" and "The Scarlet Citadel" is not as clear as some would like you to think it is. Appearing in the December 1932 issue of Weird Tales, "The Phoenix on the Sword" was the first Conan story published. It's well-documented that this story didn't spring to Howard in fully original form, but that he had a few warm-ups to creating Conan. His "Cimmeria" poem written earlier that year (though not published until 1956) introduced Conan's homeland. "People of the Dark," published in June 1932 in Strange Tales had introduced a barbarian character named Conan (the Reaver, not the Cimmerian). And "Phoenix on the Sword was cribbed from the unsold King Kull story "By This Axe I Rule!"  Though it's dead simple to know where this story takes place in Conan's life, the narrative gives us tons of interesting chronological notes. Conan is obviously older, having lived his barbarian life and is now king of Aquilonia.
 Clearly, obviously, this story is easy to place. I'm bored just sitting here writing it. So let's compare it to "The Scarlet Citadel." Despite being the second Conan story published, "The Scarlet Citadel" was not the second written, but probably the fourth. In Robert E. Howard: The Life and Times of a Texas Author, Willard Oliver postulates that "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" and "The God in the Bowl" were written between the two King Conan stories, but neither of those tales would be published until much later. "The Scarlet Citadel," though, would be published in the January 1933 issue of Weird Tales, just a month behind its predecessor. 
I was surprised in my revisiting of these two texts that their temporal placement was not as strong as I remembered. The commonly-accepted chronology is that "Citadel" takes place about a year after "Phoenix," but there's nothing quite so clear in the narratives. I find that it's most likely that "Phoenix" takes place first because there has to have been time for a "whole cycle of hero-tales" to have been written and to become famous, but the one-year difference is not really there. Gary Romeo examines a Conan chronology by P. Schuyler Miller which postulates that "Citadel" takes place right after "Phoenix," perhaps within the same year. "An Informal Biography of Conan the Cimmerian" (found in The Blade of Conan these days) also thinks "Citadel" takes place right afterword. If you're only looking at the texts, I don't think it's that clear. Our final chronology for this post is as follows. 1. The Phoenix on the Sword
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| 21. The Vale of Lost Women More like "The Birth of a Hyborian Nation," amirite? This story's hideous racism is impossible to ignore, and it's not like it has a story at its core that would be that good if you could somehow strip the plot to its studs. The racism is essentially the entire point here. It's not compelling, and it deserves to be lost somewhere in the catacombs beneath a Stygian pyramid. |  |
| 20. Shadows in Zamboula (AKA "The Man-Eaters of Zamboula") This is the other of Howard's unforgivably racist Conan tales. This one edges out "The Vale of Lost Women" simply by having some moments of intrigue before Howard's prejudice sets in, and it has a slightly better villain in Baal-Pteor than a few other Conan stories. I also think it's the more interesting of the two, giving me a lot more to write about when I read it. Still, it's not enough to save the thing. In these worst stories, Howard's plotting and characterization seriously suffer from his poisonous beliefs. |  |
| 19. Shadows in the Moonlight (AKA "Iron Shadows in the Moon") It's not like there's anything wrong with "Iron Shadows in the Moon" (which I've taken to referring to this story as... it's a much better title than the one it was given at publishing), it's just that this story ultimately feels much more generic than most Hyborian narratives. The lost city Conan encounters, his one-off companion in Olivia, the monsters he fights, they all just feel a little uninspired. I noted in my entry about this story that Howard probably wrote this one for a paycheck and was playing to the market rather than trying to come up with something really solid, so I wonder if he would also consider it to not be his best work. |  |
| 18. Drums of Tombalku "Drums of Tombalku" is one of the fragments that Howard left behind and was ultimately finished by L. Sprague de Camp 30 years later. I honestly don't think that de Camp's revisions and additions do that much to improve this one. It really feels like a fragment, with some half-finished ideas that would later be fleshed out by stories like "The Slithering Shadow." It's so similar to that story that I really don't think this one should be considered canon to Conan's life, as it is almost entirely a retread of the ideas in "Slithering Shadow." It's not the worst. I really like the moment in which we see the horrifying god in Gazal, and it's interesting to spend an extended amount of time with characters other than Conan, but it's ultimately a much lesser story. |  |
| 17. The Slithering Shadow (AKA "Xuthal of the Dusk") "The Slithering Shadow" is marginally better than "Drums of Tombalku" and feels like the canon, more complete version of "Drums." This story's major contribution to Conan's journey is really the introduction of the Black Lotus flower and its hypnotic powder, which is a recurring element throughout the rest of Conan's stories. It's also perhaps the most completely beat-to-shit that we ever see Conan get, physically speaking, as he fights the titular slithering god-monster. I don't think it ultimately comes together that well, though. I'm probably in the minority here as I've read quite a few reviews that put this story up there with better ones, but it just didn't do a lot for me. |  |
16. A Witch Shall Be Born
For how iconic this story is, it's one of the most disjointed stories in the whole canon. There are certainly excellent aspects to it. I think the opening scene in which Salome and Taramis fight is pretty compelling. Olgerd Vladislav is a great foil for Conan. He acts like a slightly less charming, slightly less fair version of the Cimmerian and we see that it doesn't work out well for him most of the time. It's like a cautionary tale, showing us what Conan could have been if he was a little less heroic. Of course, the Tree of Death scene is an all-timer, maybe in the top 3 best individual scenes that Howard ever wrote, and even made it into the movie. However, I just don't think the rest of the story compares. The epistle in the middle feels random, like Howard couldn't figure out a way to bring the reader up to speed in a more elegant way. The ending recovers a little bit, but I've seen even just fans present ideas that feel more fleshed-out and tighter than what Howard wrote. "A Witch Shall Be Born" might be the Conan story that lives up to its potential the least.
For how iconic this story is, it's one of the most disjointed stories in the whole canon. There are certainly excellent aspects to it. I think the opening scene in which Salome and Taramis fight is pretty compelling. Olgerd Vladislav is a great foil for Conan. He acts like a slightly less charming, slightly less fair version of the Cimmerian and we see that it doesn't work out well for him most of the time. It's like a cautionary tale, showing us what Conan could have been if he was a little less heroic. Of course, the Tree of Death scene is an all-timer, maybe in the top 3 best individual scenes that Howard ever wrote, and even made it into the movie. However, I just don't think the rest of the story compares. The epistle in the middle feels random, like Howard couldn't figure out a way to bring the reader up to speed in a more elegant way. The ending recovers a little bit, but I've seen even just fans present ideas that feel more fleshed-out and tighter than what Howard wrote. "A Witch Shall Be Born" might be the Conan story that lives up to its potential the least.
| 15. Jewels of Gwahlur (AKA "The Servants of Bit-Yakin", "Teeth of Gwahlur") While I'm certainly not placing this story high in my rankings, I might be alone in placing it this high. I have rarely seen this story elicit more than a shrug of the shoulders from Conan fans, but I think it's a little better than that. Its opening scene features Conan climbing cliffs in the middle of a forest in order to get a map to a treasure that's being held onto by the bones of an ancient skeleton, propped in the wall so high that nobody can reach him. That fucks. I think a lot of this story just kind of scratches the Indiana Jones-style, pulpy adventure itch. There's a decent balance of tomb-raiding, fighting, traps, and angry gods, so I think it's a decently good time. |  |
| 14. The Pool of the Black One To me at least, "The Pool of the Black One" reads like a better version of "Iron Shadows in the Moon." There are more lost cities and weird, ancient races of people, but the magic of the titular pool is fun, and Conan's pirate companions are pretty entertaining as well. I feel Howard's writing to be more engaging here than the other stories to which it begs comparison. In a way, it feels like a classic fantasy story and like the Platonic ideal of a pulp adventure. |  |
13. The Devil in Iron
This story does what many others do, but it does them slightly better. There's a one-off woman companion for Conan named Octavia, and she's a much more enjoyable character than Olivia or Muriela. There's a thousand-year-old lost city, but it's got more going on than those in "The Pool of the Black One" or "Iron Shadows in the Moon." There are creepy wizard bad guys, but the setup is a little more unique and the stakes are more clear. It's also got a really banging introduction with a Yuetshi fisherman exploring the city of Xapur right before getting his shit rocked mysteriously. Howard's descriptions of the city of Dagon really do this story a service, too, as they're far more immersive than some of his other passages about lost cities. Conan sneaking around the city when he first arrives was full of intrigue and suspense.
This story does what many others do, but it does them slightly better. There's a one-off woman companion for Conan named Octavia, and she's a much more enjoyable character than Olivia or Muriela. There's a thousand-year-old lost city, but it's got more going on than those in "The Pool of the Black One" or "Iron Shadows in the Moon." There are creepy wizard bad guys, but the setup is a little more unique and the stakes are more clear. It's also got a really banging introduction with a Yuetshi fisherman exploring the city of Xapur right before getting his shit rocked mysteriously. Howard's descriptions of the city of Dagon really do this story a service, too, as they're far more immersive than some of his other passages about lost cities. Conan sneaking around the city when he first arrives was full of intrigue and suspense.
12. The God in the Bowl
Man, if not a lot happens in "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" as I argue below, even less actually happens in "The God in the Bowl." But I actually think that's pretty cool. Conan is cornered in a temple (that is also a museum?) by guards after the slaying of a prominent citizen and is essentially forced to talk his way out of his situation, which he's not very good at during this early point in his career. This story is unique, though. It's all paranoia and tension as we try to figure out the real way that Kallian Publico died. I wouldn't say that Robert E. Howard is ultimately a gifted detective story author, as it's pretty clear from the very beginning that Conan isn't the assailant and he leaves too-obvious clues as to who or what the murderer really is, but the story's good. It's really supported by its horrifying ending and is reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe (I'm not even talking "Murders in the Rue Morgue" this time, I'm thinking more like "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" here) in how it finishes with a real bang. It's a fun time.
Man, if not a lot happens in "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" as I argue below, even less actually happens in "The God in the Bowl." But I actually think that's pretty cool. Conan is cornered in a temple (that is also a museum?) by guards after the slaying of a prominent citizen and is essentially forced to talk his way out of his situation, which he's not very good at during this early point in his career. This story is unique, though. It's all paranoia and tension as we try to figure out the real way that Kallian Publico died. I wouldn't say that Robert E. Howard is ultimately a gifted detective story author, as it's pretty clear from the very beginning that Conan isn't the assailant and he leaves too-obvious clues as to who or what the murderer really is, but the story's good. It's really supported by its horrifying ending and is reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe (I'm not even talking "Murders in the Rue Morgue" this time, I'm thinking more like "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" here) in how it finishes with a real bang. It's a fun time.
11. The Frost-Giant's Daughter
I think I'm alone in putting this story so low. It's a good story! I like it! I just don't like it as much as some of the other ones to follow. Its opening on a bloody battlefield in which Conan and one other combatant are the only men standing is a pretty stellar way to start us off. The snowy wastes of Nordheim set this story apart from many of the others that more commonly are set in jungles, deserts, or at sea. Atali, the daughter in the title, is an interesting villain, too. It's not affecting my ranking, but there's lots of good art of this story. I'd say this is one of the simplest Conan stories in existence, at least in regards to plot construction. Not a ton actually happens, though it's an enjoyable, creative ride through Conan getting bewitched by a frost giant.
I think I'm alone in putting this story so low. It's a good story! I like it! I just don't like it as much as some of the other ones to follow. Its opening on a bloody battlefield in which Conan and one other combatant are the only men standing is a pretty stellar way to start us off. The snowy wastes of Nordheim set this story apart from many of the others that more commonly are set in jungles, deserts, or at sea. Atali, the daughter in the title, is an interesting villain, too. It's not affecting my ranking, but there's lots of good art of this story. I'd say this is one of the simplest Conan stories in existence, at least in regards to plot construction. Not a ton actually happens, though it's an enjoyable, creative ride through Conan getting bewitched by a frost giant.
10. The Hour of the Dragon (AKA "Conan the Conqueror")
This is without a doubt the most epic story in Conan's life. It takes us all over the map and has Conan fit himself back into the roles he's taken over the course of his career. He's once again a thief, a pirate, a commander, a king. It has a lot going for it like its really compelling villain and a great romp through an ancient Stygian pyramid's guts, but the story is a little hamstrung by being too long. It's four or five times longer than most Conan stories and it makes you realize that one thing Howard is very adept at usually is trimming the fat from his narratives. They're usually spartan to a fault. The pacing is a little off in this story as some characters disappear for chapters at a time, not to be mentioned for large lengths of the novel, only to be casually mentioned again many pages later. It's also a little held back by the fact that in the epic moment of the evil wizard's defeat, Conan isn't even there. The whole climax of the story takes place with one-off characters and Conan's like a mile away, unaware of any of it happening.
Similar to how "Drums of Tombalku" and "The Slithering Shadow" feel largely like retreads of one another, The Hour of the Dragon has certain times it mirrors "The Scarlet Citadel." Whereas "Scarlet Citadel" focuses more on Conan's capture and escape with an abbreviated battle at the end, Hour of the Dragon speeds through a capture and escape to focus on the military campaign afterward. It's a good story, but its faults keep it from being one of the best.
This is without a doubt the most epic story in Conan's life. It takes us all over the map and has Conan fit himself back into the roles he's taken over the course of his career. He's once again a thief, a pirate, a commander, a king. It has a lot going for it like its really compelling villain and a great romp through an ancient Stygian pyramid's guts, but the story is a little hamstrung by being too long. It's four or five times longer than most Conan stories and it makes you realize that one thing Howard is very adept at usually is trimming the fat from his narratives. They're usually spartan to a fault. The pacing is a little off in this story as some characters disappear for chapters at a time, not to be mentioned for large lengths of the novel, only to be casually mentioned again many pages later. It's also a little held back by the fact that in the epic moment of the evil wizard's defeat, Conan isn't even there. The whole climax of the story takes place with one-off characters and Conan's like a mile away, unaware of any of it happening.
Similar to how "Drums of Tombalku" and "The Slithering Shadow" feel largely like retreads of one another, The Hour of the Dragon has certain times it mirrors "The Scarlet Citadel." Whereas "Scarlet Citadel" focuses more on Conan's capture and escape with an abbreviated battle at the end, Hour of the Dragon speeds through a capture and escape to focus on the military campaign afterward. It's a good story, but its faults keep it from being one of the best.
| 9. The Phoenix on the Sword In the very first Conan story ever published, Howard got it right. "The Phoenix on the Sword" is an excellent story full of action and magic, even as it's mostly confined to one location. King Conan has lost none of his adventuresome spirit. Seeing him defend himself in his chambers against would-be assassins while only half armored was a great scene. I think the high point of this story is his vision of Epemitreus the Sage, which we later learn transported Conan to an ancient tomb underneath Mount Golamira in Gunderland. It seems as though the gods really do favor Conan. Thoth-Amon, Conan's archenemy, makes a great villain in this story and the narrative even has some interesting themes about the nature of power and servitude that make this one interesting to discuss as well as to read. |  |
| 8. The Scarlet Citadel "The Scarlet Citadel" features some of Howard's best writing ever. His descriptions in the mad scientist hallways below the citadel of the title are an absolute blast to read through. While a lot of Conan stories are pretty predictable and even tropey (at least for today's reader), I never knew what horrors would be around the next corner in this tale. For me, this story does most things better than its similarly-plotted big brother The Hour of the Dragon. It gets the fantasy and horror right, keeping things brief, and ultimately making for a killer story of capture and escape. It's got so much going for it: a great villain, an unpredictable wizard, political intrigue, horror, action, fantasy! |  |
7. The People of the Black Circle
From this placement on, every single one of these stories is a solid five-star ripper. I might even have to change a few of the placements depending on how I'm feeling day-to-day, but they're all ultimately just about everything you could ask for from a fantasy story.
"The People of the Black Circle" is phenomenal. Like The Hour of the Dragon, its scope is appropriately epic. It takes us from the cities of Vendhya (which we've never had the privilege of spending time in yet) into the Himelian Mountains. Conan is fun and heroic throughout this adventure which takes us from one action scene to another with little wait time- the pacing is excellent. What really pushes it into top-tier territory is its climactic battle between Conan and the wizards of the Black Circle on Mount Yimsha. There are so many great moments in this extended battle that are so much fun to read, like when the wizards send evil bubbles after Conan's crew, or when they're escaping and have to be careful of where they breathe because of incantations that eliminate air in certain spots. As an adventure story, it's breathless, and you'll feel like you've been away from your world for about a month once you put it down. Excellent escapism.
From this placement on, every single one of these stories is a solid five-star ripper. I might even have to change a few of the placements depending on how I'm feeling day-to-day, but they're all ultimately just about everything you could ask for from a fantasy story.
"The People of the Black Circle" is phenomenal. Like The Hour of the Dragon, its scope is appropriately epic. It takes us from the cities of Vendhya (which we've never had the privilege of spending time in yet) into the Himelian Mountains. Conan is fun and heroic throughout this adventure which takes us from one action scene to another with little wait time- the pacing is excellent. What really pushes it into top-tier territory is its climactic battle between Conan and the wizards of the Black Circle on Mount Yimsha. There are so many great moments in this extended battle that are so much fun to read, like when the wizards send evil bubbles after Conan's crew, or when they're escaping and have to be careful of where they breathe because of incantations that eliminate air in certain spots. As an adventure story, it's breathless, and you'll feel like you've been away from your world for about a month once you put it down. Excellent escapism.
| 6. Rogues in the House I might be one of the few people to put "Rogues in the House" this high. I think it's earned, though. "Rogues" is perhaps the funniest story in the Conan canon, with some of the best characters we ever get to spend time with. Conan's stuck with the Red Priest Nabonidus and the young aristocrat Murilo and their time together does make for a fun adventure that's delivered in a fresh, tight package. It's so seldom that Howard lets colorful characters really bounce off one another, but he does it here well. There are imaginative traps and gadgets all through this story that make for a very entertaining time. Conan's climactic battle with the subhuman servant Thak led to so much iconic art for a reason. While all of the thief stories are pretty good, this is almost the best of the bunch. |  |
5. Queen of the Black Coast
"Queen of the Black Coast" has a lot of firsts in it. It's the first story in which we see Conan at sea, the first in which he has a love interest on equal footing, it's the first time we go really far south on the Hyborian map. As I noted in my post on the story, I still think Everett F. Blieler was on to something when he said "Queen of the Black Coast" was "probably the best of the Conan stories, perhaps because it is the only one based on another emotion than lust, greed, or hatred." Bêlit is such an awesome foil for Conan. Several other Robert E. Howard characters have gotten spinoffs in the following decades, and Bêlit is one of the only ones that I think I would like to continue her adventures with.
This story is supported by the smaller moments: a conversation between Bêlit and Conan is its heart. We so seldom get to see Conan open up to someone of his own free will that it's really charming. Howard does some of his best writing in this story, and it makes it an undisputed classic.
"Queen of the Black Coast" has a lot of firsts in it. It's the first story in which we see Conan at sea, the first in which he has a love interest on equal footing, it's the first time we go really far south on the Hyborian map. As I noted in my post on the story, I still think Everett F. Blieler was on to something when he said "Queen of the Black Coast" was "probably the best of the Conan stories, perhaps because it is the only one based on another emotion than lust, greed, or hatred." Bêlit is such an awesome foil for Conan. Several other Robert E. Howard characters have gotten spinoffs in the following decades, and Bêlit is one of the only ones that I think I would like to continue her adventures with.
This story is supported by the smaller moments: a conversation between Bêlit and Conan is its heart. We so seldom get to see Conan open up to someone of his own free will that it's really charming. Howard does some of his best writing in this story, and it makes it an undisputed classic.
4. Red Nails
"Red Nails" feels like a tour de force in speculative fiction for Howard. The central pillar of his whole personal philosophy is the battle between civilization and barbarism, and Hoard takes a reliance on civilization to its natural endpoint here. He always says that barbarism beats civilization every time, and he makes a great case for that idea here. We see a decaying culture that has hobbled along for too long, unnatural in most ways, threatening to destroy itself at any minute. The cities and people he creates in this story are indelible not only for their entertainment but for the philosophical conversations they inspire. It has a fun one-off mate for Conan with Valeria, whose entrance kicks the story off right. There's little padding in this one as Conan and Valeria are introduced constantly to confounding and crazy characters, locations, and situations.
In a letter to Clark Ashton Smith, Howard got it exactly right: "Sent a three-part serial to Wright yesterday: 'Red Nails,' which I devoutly hope he'll like. After Conan yarn, and the grimmest, bloodiest, and most merciless story of the series so far. Too much raw meat, maybe, but I merely portrayed what I honestly believe would be the reactions of certain types of people in the situations on which the plot of the story hung..." It's a great story. As the last Conan story to hit the page before Howard's suicide, it was an excellent final hurrah.
"Red Nails" feels like a tour de force in speculative fiction for Howard. The central pillar of his whole personal philosophy is the battle between civilization and barbarism, and Hoard takes a reliance on civilization to its natural endpoint here. He always says that barbarism beats civilization every time, and he makes a great case for that idea here. We see a decaying culture that has hobbled along for too long, unnatural in most ways, threatening to destroy itself at any minute. The cities and people he creates in this story are indelible not only for their entertainment but for the philosophical conversations they inspire. It has a fun one-off mate for Conan with Valeria, whose entrance kicks the story off right. There's little padding in this one as Conan and Valeria are introduced constantly to confounding and crazy characters, locations, and situations.
In a letter to Clark Ashton Smith, Howard got it exactly right: "Sent a three-part serial to Wright yesterday: 'Red Nails,' which I devoutly hope he'll like. After Conan yarn, and the grimmest, bloodiest, and most merciless story of the series so far. Too much raw meat, maybe, but I merely portrayed what I honestly believe would be the reactions of certain types of people in the situations on which the plot of the story hung..." It's a great story. As the last Conan story to hit the page before Howard's suicide, it was an excellent final hurrah.
3. Beyond the Black River
I wrote in my post about this story that it's probably the most philosophically-rich of all Howard's Conan stories, so I'll try to not just repeat myself here. "Beyond the Black River" is a "weird western" that makes it super unique for Conan. Transporting the American frontier to the Hyborian Age allows Howard to play with all kinds of tropes in new ways. It comprises a perfect pair when teamed up with "Red Nails."
The story is action-packed, sure, but I think the thing that makes it so excellent is Conan's new friends Balthus and Slasher. I happen to really like when Conan gets paired up with someone for a story. Sometimes he's in a tenuous pact with a would-be enemy. Sometimes he's rescuing a damsel in distress. But here, Conan is paired up with a prairie kid who seems much like a young version of Conan himself, as well as the loyal dog Slasher. There's a certain wide-eyed purity to Balthus and Slasher that gives the story a fun lightness, and the plotting is some of Howard's best ever.
On certain days, I think of "Beyond the Black River" as my personal favorite Conan story, but I think it's probably more appropriately ranked here.
I wrote in my post about this story that it's probably the most philosophically-rich of all Howard's Conan stories, so I'll try to not just repeat myself here. "Beyond the Black River" is a "weird western" that makes it super unique for Conan. Transporting the American frontier to the Hyborian Age allows Howard to play with all kinds of tropes in new ways. It comprises a perfect pair when teamed up with "Red Nails."
The story is action-packed, sure, but I think the thing that makes it so excellent is Conan's new friends Balthus and Slasher. I happen to really like when Conan gets paired up with someone for a story. Sometimes he's in a tenuous pact with a would-be enemy. Sometimes he's rescuing a damsel in distress. But here, Conan is paired up with a prairie kid who seems much like a young version of Conan himself, as well as the loyal dog Slasher. There's a certain wide-eyed purity to Balthus and Slasher that gives the story a fun lightness, and the plotting is some of Howard's best ever.
On certain days, I think of "Beyond the Black River" as my personal favorite Conan story, but I think it's probably more appropriately ranked here.
2. Black Colossus
Eat your heart out, The Hour of the Dragon. This is what a Conan epic can truly be. This one stands up there with other all-timers of fantasy fiction like The Lord of the Rings and shows why Robert E. Howard is the greatest sword-and-sorcery author of all time. "Black Colossus" opens with one of the best openings in any of Conan's stories and never lets up once it introduces everyone's favorite barbarian. It's a huge turning point in Conan's life as he begins to step away from isolated adventures and commands hordes of soldiers for the first time, defending a country against an evil sorcerer. But this story's greatest strength isn't it's plotting. Every word of Howard's prose here pulses with life. His descriptions shimmer on the page so much that it becomes the most engrossing writing he would ever do.
There's really a little bit of everything in this story. Tomb-raiding, military campaigns, politicking, evil wizards, creepy monsters... what more could you ever want? The battles are cinematic to a point that I'm dying to see this get adapted to the big screen, and I don't usually desire filmed adaptions of books or comics very much. If you haven't read this story and you have even the slightest interest in Conan, close this website and go read it now.
Eat your heart out, The Hour of the Dragon. This is what a Conan epic can truly be. This one stands up there with other all-timers of fantasy fiction like The Lord of the Rings and shows why Robert E. Howard is the greatest sword-and-sorcery author of all time. "Black Colossus" opens with one of the best openings in any of Conan's stories and never lets up once it introduces everyone's favorite barbarian. It's a huge turning point in Conan's life as he begins to step away from isolated adventures and commands hordes of soldiers for the first time, defending a country against an evil sorcerer. But this story's greatest strength isn't it's plotting. Every word of Howard's prose here pulses with life. His descriptions shimmer on the page so much that it becomes the most engrossing writing he would ever do.
There's really a little bit of everything in this story. Tomb-raiding, military campaigns, politicking, evil wizards, creepy monsters... what more could you ever want? The battles are cinematic to a point that I'm dying to see this get adapted to the big screen, and I don't usually desire filmed adaptions of books or comics very much. If you haven't read this story and you have even the slightest interest in Conan, close this website and go read it now.
1. The Tower of the Elephant
I'm not usually your escapism guy. I really like talking about themes of stories and how they're constructed and trying to figure out what they mean on a human level. But every now and then, there's escapist fiction that is just so fucking good that you don't even have time to stop and read between the lines because the lines themselves are so engrossing. These are the kinds of stories that make you want to live in another time, on another world, and completely detach yourself from reality. This is the kind of story that "The Tower of the Elephant" is.
At one of the earliest points in Conan's life, he's not the large, invincible superhero we'll see him become later, so it's easier to cast yourself as Conan as you go on a brief but engrossing adventure with him. The Zamorian City of Thieves is an excellent setting- there's danger, but also the promise of gold around every corner. The tower of the elephant itself is such a great location too, completely inundated with monsters and guards and animals, all the while having this mysteriously smooth exterior that promises so much on the inside. It never disappoints.
Yag-Kosha, the ancient elephant alien, is a wonderful twist toward the end of the story and whisks you even further into escapism. It's full of pathos and imagination that you don't even mind when the tower falls and Conan walks away empty-handed. There's nothing else quite this good that Howard put to paper. It's what all adventure stories could aspire to.
I'm not usually your escapism guy. I really like talking about themes of stories and how they're constructed and trying to figure out what they mean on a human level. But every now and then, there's escapist fiction that is just so fucking good that you don't even have time to stop and read between the lines because the lines themselves are so engrossing. These are the kinds of stories that make you want to live in another time, on another world, and completely detach yourself from reality. This is the kind of story that "The Tower of the Elephant" is.
At one of the earliest points in Conan's life, he's not the large, invincible superhero we'll see him become later, so it's easier to cast yourself as Conan as you go on a brief but engrossing adventure with him. The Zamorian City of Thieves is an excellent setting- there's danger, but also the promise of gold around every corner. The tower of the elephant itself is such a great location too, completely inundated with monsters and guards and animals, all the while having this mysteriously smooth exterior that promises so much on the inside. It never disappoints.
Yag-Kosha, the ancient elephant alien, is a wonderful twist toward the end of the story and whisks you even further into escapism. It's full of pathos and imagination that you don't even mind when the tower falls and Conan walks away empty-handed. There's nothing else quite this good that Howard put to paper. It's what all adventure stories could aspire to.
Ranking Howard's original Conan stories PLUS the additions
Below is my ranking of not only REH's original Conan stories, but also those that were edited or finished by L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter. The new additions I have added their own short paragraphs to.
30. The Vale of Lost Women
29. Shadows in Zamboula
28. Wolves Beyond the Border
"Wolves Beyond the Border" just wasn't that compelling. I went in hoping that it would be interesting seeing the Hyborian Age from a more mortal perspective, but we actually get that fairly frequently in small bursts, so this story felt very disposable.
27. Iron Shadows in the Moon
26. The Hand of Nergal
"The Hand of Nergal" is just lacking in anything making it great. It was entertaining enough, but feels like a very skippable chapter in Conan's life, even though it's his first chapter as a Turanian mercenary. It began its life in the 1930s as a Conan story, but it was unfinished at the time of Howard's death, so Lin Carter finished it in the 60s. As I noted in my post about this story, some of the prose is a little weird and random, too. Ultimately, it's just okay.
25. Drums of Tombalku
24. Xuthal of the Dusk
23. A Witch Shall Be Born
22. Jewels of Gwahlur
21. Hawks Over Shem
I liked "Hawks Over Shem," but this story frankly felt a little different, and not in a good way, like how "Rogues in the House" or "Beyond the Black River" stand out. Unlike the 3 other stories REH published without Conan that de Camp and Carter would later write Conan into, this one is the one where you really feel that. I know I'm more of a fan of those three others than most, but I feel like it's because the others blended quite a bit better. There are fewer Howard fingerprints on this story in my estimation.
20. The Pool of the Black One
19. The Devil in Iron
18. The Snout in the Dark
"The Snout in the Dark" is a story that I felt was underrated when I finished it, but have gradually forgotten what I liked so much about it. I do think that it's better than most people give it credit for (nobody ever talks about this story), but somehow feels more like a de Camp / Carter creation than a Robert E. Howard original. It was based on an untitled fragment of Howard's, but I'm wondering how much Howard actually wrote and how much was added by the later collaborators.
17. The God in the Bowl
16. The Frost-Giant's Daughter
15. The Hour of the Dragon
14. The Flame Knife
The Flame Knife is really fun. It's got a good sense of adventure to it and takes us to parts of the Hyborian world we hadn't ever been to before. It's definitely helped by bringing back Olgerd Vladislav, who might be second or third in line to the title of Conan's arch-nemesis.
13. The Hall of the Dead
I really dig "The Hall of the Dead." There's so much fun to be had with the giant slug creature, the ancient city of Larsha is really fun, and the hall of the dead itself is phenomenally creepy. Conan's single-serving friend Nestor is a fun addition to the story and I'm glad to see that he makes it out alive since most of Conan's companions meet their ends in the stories in which they're introduced. This one deserves more recognition than it gets.
12. The Blood-Stained God
What a fun tomb-plunderer. I don't get why more people don't like this story. The 1930s Afghanistan setting of the original "Trail of the Blood-Stained God" transfers perfectly to the Hyborian Age. Additionally, the actual temple of the blood-stained god makes for an unpredictable ending, as Conan has to think his way out of a trap instead of just burying his sword in everyone's neck. It's tons of fun!
11. The Road of the Eagles
Do not @ me for putting this one so high. This story is great. Honestly, the castle nestled in the mountains with its sheer walls and the one, treacherous path to it is one of the best story conceits that Howard ever dreamed up. It's not incredibly thematically-rich or anything, but it's a hell of a good time and very imaginative.
10. The Phoenix on the Sword
9. The Scarlet Citadel
8. The Treasure of Tranicos (AKA "The Black Stranger")
"The Treasure of Tranicos" followed kind of a strange path to get where it sits now. It began as "The Black Stranger," a Conan story. When it got rejected for publication, it was re-written to be just a pirate story. When that also got rejected, it was shelved. de Camp re-introduced Conan to it and retitled it to "The Treasure of Tranicos" and we should all be so glad he did. This story rocks. It's got some of the tightest plotting Howard ever did, some truly wonderful characterization scenes, and excellent stakes. The fact that there are so many competing interests working together toward a goal makes it so that you always feel someone is about to betray another. It's definitely the best L. Sprague de Camp or Lin Carter-influenced addition to the canon.
7. The People of the Black Circle
6. Rogues in the House
5. Queen of the Black Coast
4. Red Nails
3. Beyond the Black River
2. Black Colossus
1. The Tower of the Elephant
I always have fun ranking things. Let me know your own rankings in the comments if you've got them! At the very least, what are your own top 5?
29. Shadows in Zamboula
28. Wolves Beyond the Border
"Wolves Beyond the Border" just wasn't that compelling. I went in hoping that it would be interesting seeing the Hyborian Age from a more mortal perspective, but we actually get that fairly frequently in small bursts, so this story felt very disposable.
27. Iron Shadows in the Moon
26. The Hand of Nergal
"The Hand of Nergal" is just lacking in anything making it great. It was entertaining enough, but feels like a very skippable chapter in Conan's life, even though it's his first chapter as a Turanian mercenary. It began its life in the 1930s as a Conan story, but it was unfinished at the time of Howard's death, so Lin Carter finished it in the 60s. As I noted in my post about this story, some of the prose is a little weird and random, too. Ultimately, it's just okay.
25. Drums of Tombalku
24. Xuthal of the Dusk
23. A Witch Shall Be Born
22. Jewels of Gwahlur
21. Hawks Over Shem
I liked "Hawks Over Shem," but this story frankly felt a little different, and not in a good way, like how "Rogues in the House" or "Beyond the Black River" stand out. Unlike the 3 other stories REH published without Conan that de Camp and Carter would later write Conan into, this one is the one where you really feel that. I know I'm more of a fan of those three others than most, but I feel like it's because the others blended quite a bit better. There are fewer Howard fingerprints on this story in my estimation.
20. The Pool of the Black One
19. The Devil in Iron
18. The Snout in the Dark
"The Snout in the Dark" is a story that I felt was underrated when I finished it, but have gradually forgotten what I liked so much about it. I do think that it's better than most people give it credit for (nobody ever talks about this story), but somehow feels more like a de Camp / Carter creation than a Robert E. Howard original. It was based on an untitled fragment of Howard's, but I'm wondering how much Howard actually wrote and how much was added by the later collaborators.
17. The God in the Bowl
16. The Frost-Giant's Daughter
15. The Hour of the Dragon
14. The Flame Knife
The Flame Knife is really fun. It's got a good sense of adventure to it and takes us to parts of the Hyborian world we hadn't ever been to before. It's definitely helped by bringing back Olgerd Vladislav, who might be second or third in line to the title of Conan's arch-nemesis.
13. The Hall of the Dead
I really dig "The Hall of the Dead." There's so much fun to be had with the giant slug creature, the ancient city of Larsha is really fun, and the hall of the dead itself is phenomenally creepy. Conan's single-serving friend Nestor is a fun addition to the story and I'm glad to see that he makes it out alive since most of Conan's companions meet their ends in the stories in which they're introduced. This one deserves more recognition than it gets.
12. The Blood-Stained God
What a fun tomb-plunderer. I don't get why more people don't like this story. The 1930s Afghanistan setting of the original "Trail of the Blood-Stained God" transfers perfectly to the Hyborian Age. Additionally, the actual temple of the blood-stained god makes for an unpredictable ending, as Conan has to think his way out of a trap instead of just burying his sword in everyone's neck. It's tons of fun!
11. The Road of the Eagles
Do not @ me for putting this one so high. This story is great. Honestly, the castle nestled in the mountains with its sheer walls and the one, treacherous path to it is one of the best story conceits that Howard ever dreamed up. It's not incredibly thematically-rich or anything, but it's a hell of a good time and very imaginative.
10. The Phoenix on the Sword
9. The Scarlet Citadel
8. The Treasure of Tranicos (AKA "The Black Stranger")
"The Treasure of Tranicos" followed kind of a strange path to get where it sits now. It began as "The Black Stranger," a Conan story. When it got rejected for publication, it was re-written to be just a pirate story. When that also got rejected, it was shelved. de Camp re-introduced Conan to it and retitled it to "The Treasure of Tranicos" and we should all be so glad he did. This story rocks. It's got some of the tightest plotting Howard ever did, some truly wonderful characterization scenes, and excellent stakes. The fact that there are so many competing interests working together toward a goal makes it so that you always feel someone is about to betray another. It's definitely the best L. Sprague de Camp or Lin Carter-influenced addition to the canon.
7. The People of the Black Circle
6. Rogues in the House
5. Queen of the Black Coast
4. Red Nails
3. Beyond the Black River
2. Black Colossus
1. The Tower of the Elephant
I always have fun ranking things. Let me know your own rankings in the comments if you've got them! At the very least, what are your own top 5?
When I set out to read every Conan story in timeline order, I thought it might vastly change the reader experience. I hope I'm not disappointing you when I say that it hasn't really changed that much. It's certainly enhanced the reading experience in some ways: I have much more context for each story, it makes them easier to remember because I can place them in order, and it's been interesting to see Conan grow from an northern yokel with a propensity for violence into a clever, powerful, no-less-violent ruler. However, other than that, it hasn't changed a ton. I mean, does it make a huge difference if you read "The Castle of Terror" before or after "The Devil in Iron?" Not one bit.
I say all that to say this: reading everything in timeline order absolutely does impact how The Hour of the Dragon reads.
The Hour of the Dragon, when read at the end of Conan's life, feels like a victory lap. It really wasn't meant to be that as Howard was writing it.
In mid-1933, about a year into writing Conan stories, Howard was approached by a publishing agent in England about possibly putting out some of his work in the UK. Howard was always looking for how to earn more with his writing, so he sent off a package of 8 stories to the firm. There were 8 stories included, including two Conan bangers "The Tower of the Elephant" and "The Scarlet Citadel." As Patrice Louinet notes in his essay "Hyborian Genesis," Weird Tales had first publication rights to his Conan serials, so Howard wasn't able to submit most of his Conan stuff for publication anywhere else.
I say all that to say this: reading everything in timeline order absolutely does impact how The Hour of the Dragon reads.
The Hour of the Dragon, when read at the end of Conan's life, feels like a victory lap. It really wasn't meant to be that as Howard was writing it.
In mid-1933, about a year into writing Conan stories, Howard was approached by a publishing agent in England about possibly putting out some of his work in the UK. Howard was always looking for how to earn more with his writing, so he sent off a package of 8 stories to the firm. There were 8 stories included, including two Conan bangers "The Tower of the Elephant" and "The Scarlet Citadel." As Patrice Louinet notes in his essay "Hyborian Genesis," Weird Tales had first publication rights to his Conan serials, so Howard wasn't able to submit most of his Conan stuff for publication anywhere else.
I love the details that Louinet includes about Howard's submissions. Whereas you and I would send a link to a Google Doc or a copy of a PDF, Howard actually had to re-type all of "The Scarlet Citadel," which he used as an opportunity to change a few things in the story, and then he actually sent ripped-out Weird Tales pages to provide "The Tower of the Elephant" for them.
A whopping seven months after submitting those eight stories, the publisher sent a letter rejecting all eight stories, but suggested that Howard try writing a novel instead.
A whopping seven months after submitting those eight stories, the publisher sent a letter rejecting all eight stories, but suggested that Howard try writing a novel instead.
"The difficulty that arises about publication in book form, is the prejudice that is very strong over here just now against collections of short stories, and I find myself very reluctantly forced to return the stories to you. With this suggestion, however, that any time you find yourself able to produce a full-length novel of about 70,000-75,000 words along the lines of the stories, my allied company, Pawling and Ness Ltd., who deal with the lending libraries, and are able to sell a first edition of 5,000 copies, will be very willing to publish it."
REH hadn't ever written a novel before, but he had just finished the comparatively long-as-shit "The People of the Black Circle," so he may have been feeling good about his ability to write something even longer.
Howard had a few false starts in getting his novel together. The draft he banged out of "Drums of Tombalku" was probably one abandoned attempt at a novel-length story. And while Howard frequently said (bragged?) that Conan stories just flowed out of him, unaided and in just a single draft or two The Hour of the Dragon was a drafty slog for him, evidently.
There are 620 existing draft pages for this story that runs about 170 pages in my copy of The Complete Chronicles of Conan, with Patrice Louinet estimating that hundreds more could have been lost over the decades. Howard rewrote it at least five times, making huge changes that were quite unlike him.
Howard wrote The Hour of the Dragon over the course of two months: from March to May 1934, frequently writing 5000 words a day, every day of the week. After sending the manuscript to the publisher in the UK, Howard took a few days off.
The novel, though, never saw publication as he intended it. The publisher went out of business and the novel was returned.
There are 620 existing draft pages for this story that runs about 170 pages in my copy of The Complete Chronicles of Conan, with Patrice Louinet estimating that hundreds more could have been lost over the decades. Howard rewrote it at least five times, making huge changes that were quite unlike him.
Howard wrote The Hour of the Dragon over the course of two months: from March to May 1934, frequently writing 5000 words a day, every day of the week. After sending the manuscript to the publisher in the UK, Howard took a few days off.
The novel, though, never saw publication as he intended it. The publisher went out of business and the novel was returned.
With his English venture over, Howard packaged up the pages and sent them to good ol' Farnsworth Wright at Weird Tales, who bought them and scheduled them to published in a serial of five parts. "Mr. Wright says it's my best Conan story so far," Howard penned.
So clearly, The Hour of the Dragon is not a triumphant victory lap that looks back on all the fun times we've had with Conan.
Rather, the novel feels that way because Howard was tempted to cannibalize parts of other Conan stories that hadn't yet been published in England. He built out or re-used ideas, characters, and situations that he'd played with before in order to reach that 70,000-word length the publisher was asking for. In his essay "Robert E. Howard: Professional Writer," printed in the book The Dark Barbarian, Glenn Lord himself borrows Raymond Chandler's term "cannibalizing" to describe this practice: "a writer taking certain characters and elements from separate earlier works of his own and weaving them together in a single narrative." I can see why he would do it- I've done the same thing with musical ideas in bands I've played in.
Lord gives a few critical opinions on Howard cannibalizing other works to create The Hour of the Dragon.
From Fred Blosser:
So clearly, The Hour of the Dragon is not a triumphant victory lap that looks back on all the fun times we've had with Conan.
Rather, the novel feels that way because Howard was tempted to cannibalize parts of other Conan stories that hadn't yet been published in England. He built out or re-used ideas, characters, and situations that he'd played with before in order to reach that 70,000-word length the publisher was asking for. In his essay "Robert E. Howard: Professional Writer," printed in the book The Dark Barbarian, Glenn Lord himself borrows Raymond Chandler's term "cannibalizing" to describe this practice: "a writer taking certain characters and elements from separate earlier works of his own and weaving them together in a single narrative." I can see why he would do it- I've done the same thing with musical ideas in bands I've played in.
Lord gives a few critical opinions on Howard cannibalizing other works to create The Hour of the Dragon.
From Fred Blosser:
"['The Scarlet Citadel' bears such an] extensive resemblance to Conan the Conqueror... that it is possible that Howard first planned the novel as an elaboration on the earlier novelette... Perhaps Howard felt he could write a tigether, more powerful novel by constructing it on the foundation of... tried-and-true concepts. Or perhaps he felt he hadn't done the themes justice in the space limitations of the...earlier shorter works."
And from Karl Edward Wagner:
"The transformation is carried through extremely well. Characters and plot devices borrowed from other Conan tales are here presented more richly, developed with greater care... Considering the speed with which Howard wrote the novel (and he had other projects to complete in those same four months), The Hour of the Dragon is a remarkably polished work."
Honestly, I disagree with Wagner on this: I think "The Scarlet Citadel" is a lot stronger than the novel. The good news is that when you read this story in context of the rest of Conan's career, it doesn't feel like he's re-heating old story ideas in the microwave. Instead, The Hour of the Dragon feels like the most epic Conan story yet, at least in terms of its scope.
There's a good deal of fun to be had on this adventure!
It opens with an excellent scene in which an evil cabal resurrects a 3000 year-old wizard from Acheron, the kingdom that once stretched over Aquilonia, Ophir, Brythunia, and Koth. It's atmospheric as hell.
We also get a fun, hair-raising romp through the undercroft of an ancient Stygian pyramid which was the height of the story for me. I loved that I didn't know what was beyond each corner and the vampire Akivasha was a great character. I'm always down for a vampire.
There's a good variety of questing to be done as Conan goes all over the map here- my next map tracking Conan's adventures is literally just this one story and it covers about as many locations as the 5-10 stories I usually do for each one of those. He goes from castles to deserts to rivers to prairies to pyramids; it helps move that he's never in one place for long.
Unfortunately for us, it does kind of feel that the novel was written quickly in order to make a pile of cash from a foreign publisher, because there's a lot that's holding this novel back from being on the top of the pile. The most obvious of these is its length. My copy of The Hour of the Dragon is about 170 pages, which isn't exactly Infinite Jest here, but I've noticed frequently that Conan works best when his stories are compact. The Flame Knife, while good, was a bit long in the tooth at 100 pages and it was astonishing to feel how much tighter and smoother "The People of the Black Circle" felt right afterword since that story is 30 pages leaner. The Hour of the Dragon is yet a full 70 pages longer than The Flame Knife, and it really suffers for it. The pacing is frequently off as you feel that Howard has never had to write a story of this length and doesn't quite know what to do with his runtime. If we had a little bit more quality time with some of the episodes, I think it could have come together much better.
Conan too-quickly dispatches a number of his foes, making quick work of this man-ape thing in a dungeon. Hilariously, the text makes a big deal about Conan running into a Nemedian Adventure, making him sound like he's part of the Seal Team Six of the Hyborian Age, only for Conan to end his life in the space of a short paragraph with one single stroke. Do you know about "the Worf Effect" from Star Trek: The Next Generation? Commander Worf is huge and tough, so if you want a bad guy to be really threatening, you have him beat up Worf. I can't help but wish something like that had happened here. Don't just tell me this guy's a tough customer! Have him delay Conan's escape a bit and rough him up, only for Conan to win in a dramatic fashion! Instead, Conan slices the dude up mid-sentence, without ever breaking a sweat.
Additionally, major characters disappear for huge sections of text, so much so that one night when I picked the story back up, it was a few chapters before Xaltotun reared his head again and I thought to myself, Oh yeah, he's the villain in this. I'd forgotten.
There's a good deal of fun to be had on this adventure!
It opens with an excellent scene in which an evil cabal resurrects a 3000 year-old wizard from Acheron, the kingdom that once stretched over Aquilonia, Ophir, Brythunia, and Koth. It's atmospheric as hell.
We also get a fun, hair-raising romp through the undercroft of an ancient Stygian pyramid which was the height of the story for me. I loved that I didn't know what was beyond each corner and the vampire Akivasha was a great character. I'm always down for a vampire.
There's a good variety of questing to be done as Conan goes all over the map here- my next map tracking Conan's adventures is literally just this one story and it covers about as many locations as the 5-10 stories I usually do for each one of those. He goes from castles to deserts to rivers to prairies to pyramids; it helps move that he's never in one place for long.
Unfortunately for us, it does kind of feel that the novel was written quickly in order to make a pile of cash from a foreign publisher, because there's a lot that's holding this novel back from being on the top of the pile. The most obvious of these is its length. My copy of The Hour of the Dragon is about 170 pages, which isn't exactly Infinite Jest here, but I've noticed frequently that Conan works best when his stories are compact. The Flame Knife, while good, was a bit long in the tooth at 100 pages and it was astonishing to feel how much tighter and smoother "The People of the Black Circle" felt right afterword since that story is 30 pages leaner. The Hour of the Dragon is yet a full 70 pages longer than The Flame Knife, and it really suffers for it. The pacing is frequently off as you feel that Howard has never had to write a story of this length and doesn't quite know what to do with his runtime. If we had a little bit more quality time with some of the episodes, I think it could have come together much better.
Conan too-quickly dispatches a number of his foes, making quick work of this man-ape thing in a dungeon. Hilariously, the text makes a big deal about Conan running into a Nemedian Adventure, making him sound like he's part of the Seal Team Six of the Hyborian Age, only for Conan to end his life in the space of a short paragraph with one single stroke. Do you know about "the Worf Effect" from Star Trek: The Next Generation? Commander Worf is huge and tough, so if you want a bad guy to be really threatening, you have him beat up Worf. I can't help but wish something like that had happened here. Don't just tell me this guy's a tough customer! Have him delay Conan's escape a bit and rough him up, only for Conan to win in a dramatic fashion! Instead, Conan slices the dude up mid-sentence, without ever breaking a sweat.
Additionally, major characters disappear for huge sections of text, so much so that one night when I picked the story back up, it was a few chapters before Xaltotun reared his head again and I thought to myself, Oh yeah, he's the villain in this. I'd forgotten.
Maybe the worst thing, though, is that Conan isn't even there at the final, climactic battle. Conan crosses almost an entire continent to find the Heart of Ahriman, which is a good McGuffin that fits with Conan's kingship. Xaltotun has hidden the Heart, not so that he can keep it, but so that nobody can use it against him. Xaltotun wants to rule by force, but Conan rules by winning people's trust and respect. Since the Heart of Ahriman is essentially a clump of pure goodness, it's very much thematically connected to Conan's reign. So when the Heart is finally presented to Xaltotun, smiting him with a blue lightning bolt and turning him back into his wretched mummified form... Conan's like a half-mile away, fighting normal guys. It's a little disappointing.
Many of the elements of the novel have simply been done better in other Conan stories, most notably "The Scarlet Citadel." While Howard wasn't writing a grand finale for Conan's kingship, it at least feels like somewhat of a grand finale. There are a few callbacks to Conan's life that hit much harder since I'd just read through his entire life story in the last few months.
Many of the elements of the novel have simply been done better in other Conan stories, most notably "The Scarlet Citadel." While Howard wasn't writing a grand finale for Conan's kingship, it at least feels like somewhat of a grand finale. There are a few callbacks to Conan's life that hit much harder since I'd just read through his entire life story in the last few months.
"Pallantides knew that Conan had walked many strange roads in his wild, eventful life, and had been many things before a twist of Fate set him on the throne of Aquilonia.
'I saw again the battlefield whereon I was born,' said Conan, resting his chin moodily on a massive fist. 'I saw myself in a pantherskin loin-cloth, throwing my spear at the mountain beasts. I was a mercenary swordsman again, a hetman of the kozaki who dwell along the Zaporoska River, a corsair looting the coasts of Kush, a pirate of the Barachan Isles, a chief of the Himelian hillmen. All these things I've been, and of all these things I dreamed; all the shapes that have been I passed like an endless procession, and their feet beat out a dirge in the sounding dust."
That kind of rules.
Additionally, Conan sort of goes back through all the stages of his life in this story. He's a king in Aqilonia. He's a commander of groups of armed men. He disguises himself and stalks through streets like his thief days. He becomes a pirate again in a chapter literally titled "Return of the Corsair." I think Howard was content to play the hits.
Additionally, Conan sort of goes back through all the stages of his life in this story. He's a king in Aqilonia. He's a commander of groups of armed men. He disguises himself and stalks through streets like his thief days. He becomes a pirate again in a chapter literally titled "Return of the Corsair." I think Howard was content to play the hits.
The Hour of the Dragon adds a little bit to our ongoing conversation about civilization vs. barbarism and some of the ways that Conan's kingship is benefitted by his barbarism. As Conan's a man of the hills, it seems that his preference for the simple life and the most straightforward way of viewing things is continuing to help him. He- without really meaning to- increases religious freedom in Aquilonia by refusing to outlaw the worship of Asura.
"But Conan's was the broad tolerance of the barbarian, and he had refused to persecute the followers of Asura or to allow the people to do so on no better evidence than was presented against them, rumors and accusations that could not be proven. 'If they are black magicians,' he had said, 'how will they suffer you to harry them? If they are not, there is no evil in them. Crom's devils! Let men worship what gods they will.'"
Conan's not making speeches quoting Voltaire or anything, but the effect is the same.
I also really liked the part where Conan proudly eschews what "ought" to be done for what he knows he can, spitting back that he is nothing but a commoner, but still king.
I also really liked the part where Conan proudly eschews what "ought" to be done for what he knows he can, spitting back that he is nothing but a commoner, but still king.
"'The battle is lost! It were the part of majesty to yield with the dignity becoming one of royal blood!'
'I have no royal blood,' ground Conan. 'I am a barbarian and the son of a blacksmith.'"
Fuck yes. Even as Conan is king, he still has no respect for royalty. Robert E. Howard has never felt like more of a Texan than right now.
I think Howard was going for the easy A with this story and ultimately earned a solid B. We revisited some of the greatest hits of Conan's life and had his biggest adventure ever. It feels like the end of things.
Instead, we still have a few stories to go. The next time we see Conan, it'll be in Bjorn Nyberg's purposeless and mediocre The Return of Conan. Then, we'll have the largest time-skip between any two Conan stories ever- about 15 years. Conan's about his mid-forties in The Hour of the Dragon, and we'll next see him eligible for AARP / getting his free small coffee at McDonald's / putting a reverse mortgage on his house in "The Witch of the Mists," a de Camp / Carter joint that I know nothing about.
★★★☆☆
Can I give this one three and a half stars? I don't have a half-star icon.
I think Howard was going for the easy A with this story and ultimately earned a solid B. We revisited some of the greatest hits of Conan's life and had his biggest adventure ever. It feels like the end of things.
Instead, we still have a few stories to go. The next time we see Conan, it'll be in Bjorn Nyberg's purposeless and mediocre The Return of Conan. Then, we'll have the largest time-skip between any two Conan stories ever- about 15 years. Conan's about his mid-forties in The Hour of the Dragon, and we'll next see him eligible for AARP / getting his free small coffee at McDonald's / putting a reverse mortgage on his house in "The Witch of the Mists," a de Camp / Carter joint that I know nothing about.
★★★☆☆
Can I give this one three and a half stars? I don't have a half-star icon.
"The Scarlet Citadel" is the second of the chapters featuring Conan as king of Aquilonia. As such, it's impossible to place this story anywhere but late in Conan's life. According to the Lancer book series where L. Sprague de Camp added his own prologues to each story in order to better connect them, this story takes place quickly after "The Phoenix on the Sword." "A Probable Outline of Conan's Career" agrees.
Honestly, it feels like this story should take place a little after that, at least to me. Conan appears to have kind of settled into his role as king, so I could see this happening as much as a year after "Phoenix." It has to still be taking place during this civil conflict that allowed Conan to take the Aquilonian throne, though.
Conan is about 41 years old, so he's a little past his prime, but he could still kill you or me with just his pinky finger.
Interestingly, there's one chronological marker in this story that reaches back, way back, to Conan's pirate days on the Black Coast. Sneaking into Conan's cell in the citadel is a Kushite who recognizes him from long ago as "Amra, the Lion."
Honestly, it feels like this story should take place a little after that, at least to me. Conan appears to have kind of settled into his role as king, so I could see this happening as much as a year after "Phoenix." It has to still be taking place during this civil conflict that allowed Conan to take the Aquilonian throne, though.
Conan is about 41 years old, so he's a little past his prime, but he could still kill you or me with just his pinky finger.
Interestingly, there's one chronological marker in this story that reaches back, way back, to Conan's pirate days on the Black Coast. Sneaking into Conan's cell in the citadel is a Kushite who recognizes him from long ago as "Amra, the Lion."
"Long have I wished to meet you, Amra," the black gave Conan the name—Amra, the Lion—by which the Cimmerian had been known to the Kushites in his piratical days... "I know you from of old, since the days when I was a chief among a free people, before the Stygians took me and sold me into the north. Do you not remember the sack of Abombi, when your sea-wolves swarmed in? Before the palace of King Ajaga you slew a chief and a chief fled from you. It was my brother who died; it was I who fled. I demand of you a blood-price, Amra!"
"The Scarlet Citadel" was only the second Conan story published, hitting the pages of Weird Tales number 21 on the first day of January, 1933, only a month after Conan made his debut in "The Phoenix on the Sword." "Queen of the Black Coast," the story in which Conan would earn his pseudonym Amra, wouldn't be published for nearly two more years.
The story strikes me as a second consecutive meditation on power. The theme is a little bit murky, though. Conan has seized the power of the throne, and refuses to give it up by dishonorable means. In that way, Conan is following his own moral code and somewhat justifies having his own power, while every other ruler is a power-hungry asshole or total dipshit. Is Howard saying that power should inherently be looked upon with suspicion? Is he hinting at that age-old saying that those who desire power are the ones who should have the least of it? Is he saying that the only ones who should have power are those who are not born into it? Is he saying, rather troublingly, that power earned through might and conquering is inherently more legitimate than power gained through treachery, blood or tradition? I'm not sure.
When looking at the first Conan stories published, it makes sense that Howard would start in Conan's kingly days. What better way to present the differences between civilization and barbarism than by imagining a barbarian in the highest position in the land. What an incongruity! I wonder if he felt like he should go to the opposite end of society next, when "The Tower of the Elephant" was published just two months after "Scarlet Citadel." Take your barbarian, put him in the cushiest position a man could occupy. Then, throw him into the dregs of society. See how he likes either one.
In "The Scarlet Citadel," Conan is ripped from his throne by a sorcerer and tossed in the dungeon of the titular scarlet citadel. Making his way out of his prison, we get an absolutely excellent dungeon crawl. Seriously, this is some of Howard's most atmospheric, creative, creepy writing. Conan creeps through the cells, snuffing his torch and then blowing back into the embers to pass unnoticed.
In this dungeon gapes a hideous well which even Conan does not dare to gaze down. He knows something evil is inside it.
Misty figures and dark shadows loom above and around him. Is Conan's barbarian suspicion playing tricks on his senses? I liked to picture beings draped above him, letting him pass for one reason or another.
The horrifying plant which Conan rescues a sorcerer named Pelias from is some of Howard's best work. Emerging from the stone floor, there's a large vine which wraps around a naked man, lowly moaning but otherwise completely absent. The plant, seemingly sentient, is apparently torturing this guy with its creepy petals.
When looking at the first Conan stories published, it makes sense that Howard would start in Conan's kingly days. What better way to present the differences between civilization and barbarism than by imagining a barbarian in the highest position in the land. What an incongruity! I wonder if he felt like he should go to the opposite end of society next, when "The Tower of the Elephant" was published just two months after "Scarlet Citadel." Take your barbarian, put him in the cushiest position a man could occupy. Then, throw him into the dregs of society. See how he likes either one.
In "The Scarlet Citadel," Conan is ripped from his throne by a sorcerer and tossed in the dungeon of the titular scarlet citadel. Making his way out of his prison, we get an absolutely excellent dungeon crawl. Seriously, this is some of Howard's most atmospheric, creative, creepy writing. Conan creeps through the cells, snuffing his torch and then blowing back into the embers to pass unnoticed.
In this dungeon gapes a hideous well which even Conan does not dare to gaze down. He knows something evil is inside it.
Misty figures and dark shadows loom above and around him. Is Conan's barbarian suspicion playing tricks on his senses? I liked to picture beings draped above him, letting him pass for one reason or another.
The horrifying plant which Conan rescues a sorcerer named Pelias from is some of Howard's best work. Emerging from the stone floor, there's a large vine which wraps around a naked man, lowly moaning but otherwise completely absent. The plant, seemingly sentient, is apparently torturing this guy with its creepy petals.
"Now the great crimson blossom dipped and pressed its petals over the writhing lips. The limbs of the wretch twisted in anguish; the tendrils of the plant quivered as if in ecstasy, vibrating their full snaky lengths. Waves of changing hues surged over them; their color grew deeper, more venomous.
Conan did not understand what he saw, but he knew that he looked on Horror of some kind. Man or demon, the suffering of the captive touched Conan's wayward and impulsive heart."
Conan ends up rescuing Pelias, who is a sorcerer "not entirely from the earth" and has a smarmy charm about him. It seems like Conan's really lucky to be on Pelias's good side, because there's definitely an air of danger and deceit about him. I loved spending time with the guy.
Conan's return to Aquilonia is pretty great, leading to an awesome ending, but the last few lines of the story feel pretty stock, so it kind of kneecaps itself in the end.
The next story in the chronology is The Hour of the Dragon, AKA Conan the Conqueror, which I understand has almost the exact same plot as this one. We'll see how it goes seeing as it's Howard's only Conan novel. Whereas this story was the second Hyborian story published, Hour of the Dragon is the second-to-last.
★★★★☆
Conan's return to Aquilonia is pretty great, leading to an awesome ending, but the last few lines of the story feel pretty stock, so it kind of kneecaps itself in the end.
The next story in the chronology is The Hour of the Dragon, AKA Conan the Conqueror, which I understand has almost the exact same plot as this one. We'll see how it goes seeing as it's Howard's only Conan novel. Whereas this story was the second Hyborian story published, Hour of the Dragon is the second-to-last.
★★★★☆
Here we are. At long last, I've reached the beginning. After four solid months of reading and writing about Conan the Barbarian stories, I've come to the very first one every published, and it really feels like it's been a journey.
I made a lot of hay about the fact that Robert E. Howard presented Conan as a sort of memory reaching him from a long-forgotten past when I was writing about his poem "Cimmeria" and his essay "The Hyborian Age." It feels very thematically appropriate that he would continue with that theme (to a lesser extent) in "The Phoenix on the Sword." Instead of Conan reaching Howard through time, it's Conan's barbarism and a sage named Epemitreus reaching out to King Conan.
"The Phoenix on the Sword" is the earliest Conan anything to exist- with its first drafts reaching back to 1929 as an unpublished King Kull story "By This Axe I Rule!" My Kull reading is pretty much limited just to Kull comics, but he's nowhere near as cool as Conan. Patrice Louinet notes in the essay "Hyborian Genesis" that Kull was transformed into King Conan with very few edits, mostly just the color of his eyes: "grey for the Atlantean, blue for the Cimmerian."
I made a lot of hay about the fact that Robert E. Howard presented Conan as a sort of memory reaching him from a long-forgotten past when I was writing about his poem "Cimmeria" and his essay "The Hyborian Age." It feels very thematically appropriate that he would continue with that theme (to a lesser extent) in "The Phoenix on the Sword." Instead of Conan reaching Howard through time, it's Conan's barbarism and a sage named Epemitreus reaching out to King Conan.
"The Phoenix on the Sword" is the earliest Conan anything to exist- with its first drafts reaching back to 1929 as an unpublished King Kull story "By This Axe I Rule!" My Kull reading is pretty much limited just to Kull comics, but he's nowhere near as cool as Conan. Patrice Louinet notes in the essay "Hyborian Genesis" that Kull was transformed into King Conan with very few edits, mostly just the color of his eyes: "grey for the Atlantean, blue for the Cimmerian."
I wrote way back in my second column on this blog that Robert E. Howard wrote the first Conan stories in a quick blast: before any had been published, he had written "The Frost-Giant's Daughter," "The Phoenix on the Sword," "The God in the Bowl," and had outlined another, this one about Conan thieving in a Zamorian city. Some version of that story would eventually become "The Tower of the Elephant."
Howard submitted "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" and "The Phoenix on the Sword" to Fransworth Wright at Weird Tales together, and received this response on March 10th, 1932:
Howard submitted "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" and "The Phoenix on the Sword" to Fransworth Wright at Weird Tales together, and received this response on March 10th, 1932:
“Dear Mr. Howard: I am returning ‘The Frost Giant’s Daughter’ in a separate envelope, as I do not much care for it. But ‘The Phoenix of [sic] the Sword’ has points of real excellence. I hope you will see your way clear to touch it up and resubmit it. It is the first two chapters that do not click. The story opens rather uninterestingly, it seems to me, and the reader has difficulty in orienting himself. The first chapter ends well, and the second chapter begins superbly; but after King Conan’s personality is well established, the chapter sags from too much writing. I think the very last page of the whole story might be re-written with advantage; because it seems a little weak after the stupendous events that precede it.”
| "Frost-Giant" was reworked for another mag, "Bowl" was stashed, and "Phoenix" would receive heavy edits. Patrice Louinet says that Howard cut huge chunks of the story out to condense the opening to "The Nemedian Chronicles" bit we always see. Conan very quickly became the man we all know him, though starting at the end of his career and then jumping back toward the beginning in "Tower." I always wonder how that felt to back-fill a character's history like that. Howard wrote to his friend HP Lovecraft the following month: |  |
“I’ve been working on a new character, providing him with a new epoch—the Hyborian Age, which men have forgotten, but which remains in classical names, and distorted myths. Wright rejected most of the series, but I did sell him one—‘The Phoenix on the Sword’ which deals with the adventures of King Conan the Cimmerian, in the kingdom of Aquilonia.”
"The Phoenix on the Sword" picks up about a year after Conan has seized the crown of Aquilonia. At this time, Conan is said to be in this "early to mid forties." As Conan stuff frequently repeats, he wears the crown upon a troubled brow. Though King Numedides was broadly disliked when Conan deposed him, society has a short memory, and people are now upset at Conan and regularly call him a tyrant, though there's nothing in the story to suggest he's anything of the kind.
The narrative alternates back and forth between King Conan in his court with his single loyal advisor Prospero and the shadowed rooms of those who wish to replace him: mostly Ascalante, Dion, and their supposed slave, Thoth-Amon.
This is the second story in a row (not counting the Conanless interlude of "Wolves Beyond the Border" or the half-century-removed Conan the Liberator) to feature Thoth-Amon as its principle antagonist, and I understand that he'll be sticking around for most of the rest of these stories. Ascalante and Thoth both do their best to assassinate Conan, both failing because of Conan's immense strength. Visited in a dream by the sage Epemitreus, Conan is whisked away to the dark crypts below Mount Golamira and given some extra oomph to save his life, as Conan is apparently favored by the gods (something we also saw in "Black Colossus")- though not all gods, as Nebethet in "The Ivory Goddess" seems pretty nonplussed with the Cimmerian.
"The Phoenix on the Sword," though not quite as excellent as some of the immediately-preceding stories, is pretty darn good. Although it was written on the other end of Howard's time writing Conan, it is a nice addendum to "Beyond the Black River" and "The Treasure of Tranicos." I would argue that "The Phoenix on the Sword" is Howard's treatise on the nature of power.
When writing about "Beyond the Black River," I spent a bunch of ink on how it's clear that Robert E. Howard believes that barbarism will always win when pitted against civilization. However, I was left with one lingering question: what exactly is it about barbarism that helps it win all the time? "Phoenix" offers on possible answer: it's men of action who drive that victory.
The narrative alternates back and forth between King Conan in his court with his single loyal advisor Prospero and the shadowed rooms of those who wish to replace him: mostly Ascalante, Dion, and their supposed slave, Thoth-Amon.
This is the second story in a row (not counting the Conanless interlude of "Wolves Beyond the Border" or the half-century-removed Conan the Liberator) to feature Thoth-Amon as its principle antagonist, and I understand that he'll be sticking around for most of the rest of these stories. Ascalante and Thoth both do their best to assassinate Conan, both failing because of Conan's immense strength. Visited in a dream by the sage Epemitreus, Conan is whisked away to the dark crypts below Mount Golamira and given some extra oomph to save his life, as Conan is apparently favored by the gods (something we also saw in "Black Colossus")- though not all gods, as Nebethet in "The Ivory Goddess" seems pretty nonplussed with the Cimmerian.
"The Phoenix on the Sword," though not quite as excellent as some of the immediately-preceding stories, is pretty darn good. Although it was written on the other end of Howard's time writing Conan, it is a nice addendum to "Beyond the Black River" and "The Treasure of Tranicos." I would argue that "The Phoenix on the Sword" is Howard's treatise on the nature of power.
When writing about "Beyond the Black River," I spent a bunch of ink on how it's clear that Robert E. Howard believes that barbarism will always win when pitted against civilization. However, I was left with one lingering question: what exactly is it about barbarism that helps it win all the time? "Phoenix" offers on possible answer: it's men of action who drive that victory.
Conan and Thoth-Amon are really on the same side in this story- the side of barbarism. Both men are surrounded by pencil-pushers, sycophants, ladder-climbers, and navel-gazers who are utterly unnecessary. Howard draws the line between Conan and the other men in Aquilonia toward the end of the story:
"Yes, yes!" cried Publius, who was a man of plans rather than action. "We must bind his wounds. Send for every leech of the court! Oh, my lord, what a black shame on the city! Are you entirely slain?"
Conan and Thoth, however, are men of action, and therefore are the ones who hold the true power throughout the story.
Conan gained power by himself beheading King Numedides. He, at least within the fiction of the narrative, rightfully gained this power by being the strongest and the best. Though the country has quickly forgotten that they chanted his name while he slew Numedides and have confused themselves with who is a martyr and who is a tyrant, Conan earned his crown.
He doesn't need the fluff of society to defend him: he can do that on his own.
Conan gained power by himself beheading King Numedides. He, at least within the fiction of the narrative, rightfully gained this power by being the strongest and the best. Though the country has quickly forgotten that they chanted his name while he slew Numedides and have confused themselves with who is a martyr and who is a tyrant, Conan earned his crown.
He doesn't need the fluff of society to defend him: he can do that on his own.
Then as he stood, a stealthy sound in the corridor outside brought him to life, and without stopping to investigate, he began to don his armor; again he was the barbarian, suspicious and alert as a gray wolf at bay.
While Conan's barbarism is the source of his power and not his kingship, ironically (if anything, his kingship gets in the way), Thoth-Amon's on the other end of the social strata for now.
Thoth is currently acting as a slave to Ascalante. Because of his temporary guise, this asshole Dion can't even tell that Thoth is one of the most powerful sorcerers on the planet. He sees Thoth as nothing more than a slave, incapable of challenging him. Even when Thoth outright tells Dion about his past, Dion is so checked out that he doesn't really hear, and accidentally hands Thoth's source of power right back to him. He dies in the process, needless to say.
Thoth is currently acting as a slave to Ascalante. Because of his temporary guise, this asshole Dion can't even tell that Thoth is one of the most powerful sorcerers on the planet. He sees Thoth as nothing more than a slave, incapable of challenging him. Even when Thoth outright tells Dion about his past, Dion is so checked out that he doesn't really hear, and accidentally hands Thoth's source of power right back to him. He dies in the process, needless to say.
"Ring? Ring?" Thoth had underestimated the man's utter egoism. Dion had not even been listening to the slave's words, so completely engrossed was he in his own thoughts, but the final word stirred a ripple in his self- centeredness.
"Ring?" he repeated. "That makes me remember—my ring of good fortune. I had it from a Shemitish thief who swore he stole it from a wizard far to the south, and that it would bring me luck. I paid him enough, Mitra knows. By the gods, I need all the luck I can have, what with Volmana and Ascalante dragging me into their bloody plots—I'll see to the ring."
The epigraphs that proceed each chapter in "The Phoenix on the Sword" seem to support this theme of power. They've been pulled from "The Nemedian Chronicles" and a poem or ballad called "The Road of Kings," and the one at the beginning of chapter 5 seems to have the most to say.
What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the lie?
I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky.
The subtle tongue, the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing;
Rush in and die, dogs—I was a man before I was a king.
--The Road Of Kings
Howard proved to be somewhat of a anti-colonialist in "Beyond the Black River." He had Conan spit that the Aquilonian oligarchy should split up their lands and not take up so much space, that they should squeeze the common man less. Here, he implies that common man is above a king. Subtle tongues, sophist guile, and cultured ways all fall to broadswords. All this fuss and feathers is just distraction from pure ways of living that are in touch with the world.
Our next story is "The Scarlet Citadel," which I'm really excited for. Jim Zub, the current writer of Conan comics at Titan, recently posted a write-up about it on Reddit, which someone in the comments called "the original dungeon crawl." Can't wait!
★★★★☆
Our next story is "The Scarlet Citadel," which I'm really excited for. Jim Zub, the current writer of Conan comics at Titan, recently posted a write-up about it on Reddit, which someone in the comments called "the original dungeon crawl." Can't wait!
★★★★☆
One of my biggest obsessions when I was between about 5 and 10 was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (along with Batman and Pokémon). In the 1990 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, premiering about 18 months before I was born, there's a stellar opening sequence where you are titillated over and over again about seeing the turtles. This was their first time being seen in live action, after all, and they were built by the Jim Henson Creature Shop for this risky independent movie.
The film holds off quite a bit. First, the turtles destroy a lightbulb, so while they're fighting some would-be muggers, we don't get to see them as they're in total darkness. Right afterword, we see only Raphael's eyes lit intermittently by flashing police lights. After the music picks up and move into the sewers, we hear the boys celebrating their win and we can see their shadows around a corner. And at the last moment, as you're hyped as fuck to finally see the turtles, Leonardo jumps. You think that this is it, but for just one moment longer we're denied seeing them because we're hit with a freeze frame and the title card. And then, finally, they appear in all their glory.
It's great how they hold off on showing them to great effect. But we eventually do get to see them.
The film holds off quite a bit. First, the turtles destroy a lightbulb, so while they're fighting some would-be muggers, we don't get to see them as they're in total darkness. Right afterword, we see only Raphael's eyes lit intermittently by flashing police lights. After the music picks up and move into the sewers, we hear the boys celebrating their win and we can see their shadows around a corner. And at the last moment, as you're hyped as fuck to finally see the turtles, Leonardo jumps. You think that this is it, but for just one moment longer we're denied seeing them because we're hit with a freeze frame and the title card. And then, finally, they appear in all their glory.
It's great how they hold off on showing them to great effect. But we eventually do get to see them.
"Wolves Beyond the Border" is unique in the Conan canon in that it's the only story in which Conan does not appear at all. He's mentioned a couple of times, but we never actually see him, as he's off leading the revolt in Aquilonia against King Numedides.
This is one of those stories which was abandoned by Robert E. Howard for one reason or another during his lifetime, so it never saw publication. Howard's fragment truly feels like half a story, and it ends extremely abruptly, with only about 18 pages of text. L. Sprague de Camp found the fragment of the story in 1965 in a pile of Howard's papers given to him by Glenn Lord, whose praises I've previously sung. de Camp did his best to complete the narrative, but I can't say it's super compelling.
This is one of those stories which was abandoned by Robert E. Howard for one reason or another during his lifetime, so it never saw publication. Howard's fragment truly feels like half a story, and it ends extremely abruptly, with only about 18 pages of text. L. Sprague de Camp found the fragment of the story in 1965 in a pile of Howard's papers given to him by Glenn Lord, whose praises I've previously sung. de Camp did his best to complete the narrative, but I can't say it's super compelling.
I thought it might be interesting to spend a full story with someone in the periphery of Conan's path, but it was a lot less satisfying than I'd guessed. We've spent time with other characters in this world throughout this chronology; stories often don't introduce Conan until a good way in when we've met commoners, thieves, sorcerers, or others, and it just wasn't that compelling to spend time with Gault Hagar's son. "Black Colossus," for example, opens with an incredibly compelling dungeon dive without Conan. Then, we hold off even a bit longer while we see people praying to Mitra for help. But we eventually get Conan in on the action.
I've seen some people claim that the main character is unnamed, referring only to his dad, but I feel like this is a naming convention in his region: his name is Gault, and he's Hagar's son. He's not unnamed, his name is Gault Hagar's son. If I remember right, this is how last names like Johnson and Harrison came about. They were John's and Harris's sons.
Anyway, this story just isn't very compelling and it doesn't help that I'm rather bored with the Picts after four straight stories in which they're the villains. While the western setting of "Beyond the Black River" was interesting and fresh and "The Treasure of Tranicos" kept it alive by adding the pirate element and dense plotting, right now I'm yearning to return to marbled domes and lost cities and horrifying monsters.
This is probably the shortest column I've written for this chronology, and I'm okay with that. "The Phoenix on the Sword" is next.
★★☆☆☆
I've seen some people claim that the main character is unnamed, referring only to his dad, but I feel like this is a naming convention in his region: his name is Gault, and he's Hagar's son. He's not unnamed, his name is Gault Hagar's son. If I remember right, this is how last names like Johnson and Harrison came about. They were John's and Harris's sons.
Anyway, this story just isn't very compelling and it doesn't help that I'm rather bored with the Picts after four straight stories in which they're the villains. While the western setting of "Beyond the Black River" was interesting and fresh and "The Treasure of Tranicos" kept it alive by adding the pirate element and dense plotting, right now I'm yearning to return to marbled domes and lost cities and horrifying monsters.
This is probably the shortest column I've written for this chronology, and I'm okay with that. "The Phoenix on the Sword" is next.
★★☆☆☆
There are few events in the life of Conan the Cimmerian that are completely, inexorably fixed in time. There are two events, though, on opposite ends of his life that are immovable in Conan's story. The first is the siege of the Aquilonian outpost of Venarium, when Conan has "not yet seen fifteen snows," mentioned in countless Conan stories. It's like the starting place for Conan's adulthood and the prologue to the entire saga. Is the novel Conan of Venarium the only story that takes place at that siege? I've never read any.
The other event is Conan's kingship of Aquilonia, happening later in his life, usually about 40. It has been alluded to in at least half a dozen stories as something that "perhaps" he would even do one day. We're finally approaching that event as we round out this Pictish trilogy of "Beyond the Black River," "Moon of Blood," and now "The Treasure of Tranicos."
"Tranicos" began life under the title "The Black Stranger," and underwent quite a few edits between initial drafting and today. While it was written by Robert E. Howard in the 1930s along with all the other original Conan manuscripts, it wasn't published during his lifetime.
This story was edited by L. Sprague de Camp to fit more perfectly into that timeline than perhaps Robert E. Howard even intended. According to Conan the Usurper, where I read this story, de Camp found the manuscript of "The Black Stranger" amongst some other unpublished works.
The other event is Conan's kingship of Aquilonia, happening later in his life, usually about 40. It has been alluded to in at least half a dozen stories as something that "perhaps" he would even do one day. We're finally approaching that event as we round out this Pictish trilogy of "Beyond the Black River," "Moon of Blood," and now "The Treasure of Tranicos."
"Tranicos" began life under the title "The Black Stranger," and underwent quite a few edits between initial drafting and today. While it was written by Robert E. Howard in the 1930s along with all the other original Conan manuscripts, it wasn't published during his lifetime.
This story was edited by L. Sprague de Camp to fit more perfectly into that timeline than perhaps Robert E. Howard even intended. According to Conan the Usurper, where I read this story, de Camp found the manuscript of "The Black Stranger" amongst some other unpublished works.
"In preparing this manuscript for publication, I edited and rewrote it somewhat drastically, condensing it by more than fifteen per cent and adding a number of interpolations to tie the story in with King Numedides, Thoth-Amon, and the subsequent revolution in Aquilonia, to fit the story snugly into the saga."
| Unlike many Conan works which we can point to a two- or three-week period in which Robert E. Howard penned it, we have nothing that exact for "The Black Stranger." Most Howard scholars agree that he wrote it after Weird Tales accepted The Hour of the Dragon for publication, perhaps in the last months of 1934 or the early parts of 1935. We know at least that Howard had written to HP Lovecraft about the possibility of a follow-up to "Beyond the Black River," saying: "Some day I’m going to try my hand at a longer yarn of the same style, a serial of four or five parts." |  |
de Camp made some edits to bring "The Black Stranger" close the form we know today. The story was then further altered by editors at Fantasy Magazine and was published under its original title, "The Black Stranger." When the story was republished in the volume King Conan, de Camp changed the name to "The Treasure of Tranicos" because of the abundance of Conan titles with the word "black" in them. He's right, and it keeps getting worse. Right now, in late 2024, we've got:
I only made up one of those, but I defy you to tell me which one. What I'm trying to say is that Conan story titles follow a pattern.
Apparently, prior to Conan the Usurper's publication, de Camp un-did most of his changes, saying that he edited it only lightly and tried to only make changes that he deemed "urgently necessary." He did keep the timeline stuff that keeps it anchored to this period in Conan's life.
Apparently, prior to Conan the Usurper's publication, de Camp un-did most of his changes, saying that he edited it only lightly and tried to only make changes that he deemed "urgently necessary." He did keep the timeline stuff that keeps it anchored to this period in Conan's life.
I was glad to see that this story quickly answers a question I had last time. I was confused as to why Conan would be back up in the northwest after supposedly being whisked away to Aquilonia after "Moon of Blood," and it turns out that he somehow pissed off King Numedides, rousing his suspicions and sending Conan packing. Sometimes there's really good-sounding stuff that happens between stories entirely, and I wish we got to see it on the page. That's the kind of shit that de Camp and Lin Carter usually wrote about when they penned their own, original Conan stories, like adding "The Star of Khorala" to tie up a hanging thread that sounded cool from "Shadows in Zamboula."
Conan is now about 40 years old, which means that by my count, we will see him gain the kingship of Aquilonia within a year. Conan definitely seems like he is at the point where he could become a ruler. When I started this chronology, he was a provincial barbarian, suspicious of and scared of anything he deemed unnatural. He was illiterate and unworldly. Now, he's clever, ruthless, shrewd, and dare I say even a little bit sophisticated in this story, without having lost his wolfish grin or his bear-like strength. The scene in which Conan details how he snuck into the castle and infiltrated a secret meeting, totally commanding the room once he enters, is gold.
Unlike a lot of Conan fare where essentially the plot is "Conan wants the McGuffin. Will he get the treasure?" this story is as densely plotted as a Game of Thrones episode.
We have a bunch of competing interests. There's Count Valenso of Korzetta, a disgraced noble who's exiled himself on the coast. There's the brutal Barachan pirate Strombanni who's after the treasure of Tranicos. There's the more suave pirate, Black Zarano, who's also after the treasure. Thoth-Amon, the Stygian sorcerer, is there to complicate matters and torment Count Valenso. The Picts are a constant threat from the wilderness, especially since Thoth-Amon is fucking with Valenso by baiting the Picts. There's Count Valenso's daughter Belesa who is terrified of being sold as property in a deal to the pirates.
I love the stories Howard writes where he forces characters into unlikely and tenuous partnerships and that's exactly what we get here. They all want the treasure of Tranicos, but Valenso is the only one with a crew of men. Strombanni is the only one with a ship, and Zarono is the only one with a map.
Then of course there is Conan, who burns the map, making him the only one who knows the location of the treasure. It makes for a great adventure.
Unlike a lot of Conan fare where essentially the plot is "Conan wants the McGuffin. Will he get the treasure?" this story is as densely plotted as a Game of Thrones episode.
We have a bunch of competing interests. There's Count Valenso of Korzetta, a disgraced noble who's exiled himself on the coast. There's the brutal Barachan pirate Strombanni who's after the treasure of Tranicos. There's the more suave pirate, Black Zarano, who's also after the treasure. Thoth-Amon, the Stygian sorcerer, is there to complicate matters and torment Count Valenso. The Picts are a constant threat from the wilderness, especially since Thoth-Amon is fucking with Valenso by baiting the Picts. There's Count Valenso's daughter Belesa who is terrified of being sold as property in a deal to the pirates.
I love the stories Howard writes where he forces characters into unlikely and tenuous partnerships and that's exactly what we get here. They all want the treasure of Tranicos, but Valenso is the only one with a crew of men. Strombanni is the only one with a ship, and Zarono is the only one with a map.
Then of course there is Conan, who burns the map, making him the only one who knows the location of the treasure. It makes for a great adventure.
Now, if you had asked me before I read all of these stories in order who Conan's arch-nemesis was, I would have said Thoth-Amon. There are tons of comics where he's the villain, he's got a great look, he represents everything Conan fears most. But truly, this story made me realize that he's not actually in that many of these stories. I understand that L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter make Thoth the villain of the last four short stories in Conan's life, four consecutive sequels that take place after The Hour of the Dragon, but he's only popped his head up here and there so far, never really interacting much with Conan.
He was merely mentioned in "The God in the Bowl," he floats around in "Treasure of Tranicos," but doesn't really do much to Conan, and he'll have to deal with only being mentioned in The Hour of the Dragon, too. He's also in some Conan novels.
He was merely mentioned in "The God in the Bowl," he floats around in "Treasure of Tranicos," but doesn't really do much to Conan, and he'll have to deal with only being mentioned in The Hour of the Dragon, too. He's also in some Conan novels.
Conan ends this story by being enlisted into a command position during the Aquilonian revolt, so he's ready to depose Numedides. It's all been leading up to this!
For some reason, when I read Roy Thomas's adaption of this story in Savage Sword 47-48, I didn't much care for it. The Howard / de Camp version totally rocks, though. I've consistently wanted to be conservative about my ratings of Conan stories- far too many bloggers in my opinion act like everything Howard ever wrote was gold, but I do find myself adding ever-more stories to the 5-star pile. When I think "What more could I ever ask for in an adventure story?" I figure I have to give it five stars. So far, I've got "The Tower of the Elephant," "Black Colossus," "Beyond the Black River," "Red Nails," "Queen of the Black Coast," "Rogues in the House," "The People of the Black Circle," and now "The Treasure of Tranicos."
For some reason, when I read Roy Thomas's adaption of this story in Savage Sword 47-48, I didn't much care for it. The Howard / de Camp version totally rocks, though. I've consistently wanted to be conservative about my ratings of Conan stories- far too many bloggers in my opinion act like everything Howard ever wrote was gold, but I do find myself adding ever-more stories to the 5-star pile. When I think "What more could I ever ask for in an adventure story?" I figure I have to give it five stars. So far, I've got "The Tower of the Elephant," "Black Colossus," "Beyond the Black River," "Red Nails," "Queen of the Black Coast," "Rogues in the House," "The People of the Black Circle," and now "The Treasure of Tranicos."
Despite this story being an absolute fucking ripper, it ping-ponged through publisher purgatories for decades without seeing the light of day.
Conan scholar Patrice Louinet assumes that "The Black Stranger" failed to sell to Weird Tales, but there are no surviving records. That would be a little odd seeing as Conan stories were huge headliners for Farnsworth Wright at the time, and were routinely gracing the cover.
The way Louinet tells it, Howard would go about trying a new route and rewrote the story with an Irishman named Terence Vulmea at the center of it, filing the Hyborian Age serial numbers off, and sending it to his agent in May 1935. For what is, by my count, a second time that I've written this, the story was accepted but the magazine went bankrupt before the story could go public ("The Road of the Eagles" was the first and The Hour of the Dragon will be the last).
Conan scholar Patrice Louinet assumes that "The Black Stranger" failed to sell to Weird Tales, but there are no surviving records. That would be a little odd seeing as Conan stories were huge headliners for Farnsworth Wright at the time, and were routinely gracing the cover.
The way Louinet tells it, Howard would go about trying a new route and rewrote the story with an Irishman named Terence Vulmea at the center of it, filing the Hyborian Age serial numbers off, and sending it to his agent in May 1935. For what is, by my count, a second time that I've written this, the story was accepted but the magazine went bankrupt before the story could go public ("The Road of the Eagles" was the first and The Hour of the Dragon will be the last).
Apart from the names of the protagonists this story is almost identical with the Vulmea story "Swords of the Red Brotherhood". The manuscripts of both stories were found in Robert E. Howard's papers after his death. The order in which he wrote them is disputed. In his essay "The Trail Of Tranicos" (1967) L. Sprague de Camp wrote: "There is reason to believe that the pirate version came before the Conan one." On the other hand, Karl Edward Wagner, in his introduction to "The Black Stranger" in Echoes of Valour, claimed: "I have the photocopy of Howard's original manuscript of 'The Black Stranger', which clearly shows Howard's efforts to change the story from the Conan to the Black Vulmea version."
| I'm not sure who to believe. It seems odd that Howard would have turned in a Conan story that Farnsworth Wright was such a dud when he was on a streak of serious winners (and this one's a serious winner too!), but if a photocopy exits that shows Howard making Conanly edits to the pirate version, it's hard to argue with that. The pirate version of the story, titled "Swords of the Red Brotherhood," would eventually see publication in 1976. The Conanized version wouldn't make it public until 1987, which is an incredibly long gap of fifty-two years between writing and publication. That also makes it technically Howard's final bow on Conan. I'm glad we have it. ★★★★★ |  |
Robert E. Howard’s short stories “Red Nails” and “Beyond the Black River” make an interesting pair of narratives that support the same thesis statement. "Red Nails" is Robert E. Howard's story about how civilization often eats itself, cautioning its readers against closing themselves and their society off from the natural world as the people of a lost city literally cut themselves off from all of nature. Their doors are perpetually locked, the sky is blocked by glass that warps sunlight, and even plants are grown away from soil.
If “Red Nails” is anti-civilization, "Beyond the Black River" is the other half of the equation: the proponent for barbarism. I like how Frank Coffman phrases it in his essay Barbarism Ascendant: "Barbarism [is] the natural human condition, with the many historical cycles of great civilizations and any attempts to establish a lasting order in the face of chaos always and ultimately futile." This is the story in which Howard not only makes his case for eschewing societal comforts, but inviting his reader to marvel at the power of nature. "Beyond the Black River" is an excellent Conan story. In fact, it's one of the best ever. It's thematically rich, very interesting, and a total blast to read.
Serialized in Weird Tales from May to June in 1935, this is one of the later publications, with only four more to be published before Howard's suicide.
"Black River" is one of the Conan stories that gives you ample hints as to where it sits in the chronology. As I noted in my post about "The Devil in Iron," Conan gives a whole speech about what he's done in his life, placing this one later on.
If “Red Nails” is anti-civilization, "Beyond the Black River" is the other half of the equation: the proponent for barbarism. I like how Frank Coffman phrases it in his essay Barbarism Ascendant: "Barbarism [is] the natural human condition, with the many historical cycles of great civilizations and any attempts to establish a lasting order in the face of chaos always and ultimately futile." This is the story in which Howard not only makes his case for eschewing societal comforts, but inviting his reader to marvel at the power of nature. "Beyond the Black River" is an excellent Conan story. In fact, it's one of the best ever. It's thematically rich, very interesting, and a total blast to read.
Serialized in Weird Tales from May to June in 1935, this is one of the later publications, with only four more to be published before Howard's suicide.
"Black River" is one of the Conan stories that gives you ample hints as to where it sits in the chronology. As I noted in my post about "The Devil in Iron," Conan gives a whole speech about what he's done in his life, placing this one later on.
"I've seen all the great cities of the Hyborians, the Shemites, the Stygians, and the Hyrkanians. I've roamed in the unknown countries south of the black kingdoms of Kush, and east of the Sea of Vilayet. I've been a mercenary captain, a corsair, a kozak, a penniless vagabond, a general—hell, I've been everything except a king of a civilized country, and I may be that, before I die." Conan is about to become king of a "civilized" country very soon. "Beyond the Black River" is his first step in Aquilonia toward that eventual kingship. Like usual, Conan will gain people's trust and admiration quickly, and he starts very simply as a scout for the kingdom. According to "A Probable Outline of Conan's Career," Conan is likely in his late 30s, about 39 years old. |  |
"Conan as a scout in Conajohara, fighting against the Pictish wizard, Zogar Sag. This is very shortly before he seized the throne; he may be 39."
While we're in a part of the Hyborian world we've never been to before, the area is very finely drawn by Howard in his descriptions. We're on the western reaches of the Kingdom of Aquilonia, which is colonizing to the west. The fertile land of the Bossonian Marches lays nearby. Two rivers mark the western border of the country of which Conan will soon become king: the Thunder River and the Black River, the latter is the one further into the wilderness.
The Aquilonians have pushed out far, perhaps too far, colonizing what has been Pitcish territory up to this point. They've built a fort named Tuscalan as the farthest outpost of the "civilized" world into the wilderness.
The Aquilonians have pushed out far, perhaps too far, colonizing what has been Pitcish territory up to this point. They've built a fort named Tuscalan as the farthest outpost of the "civilized" world into the wilderness.
Conan is working as a sellsword scout for the militias at Fort Tuscalan, protecting not only the men of the fort, but also the nearby town of Velitirum and the entire western border of Aquilonia, by extension. He meets young Balthus, who is definitely one of the most interesting companions of Conan's so far, who unfortunately doesn't make it out of the story (why do the best companions always stick around for only one story? I'm looking at you, Belit, Valeria, and Balthus!)
Conan fights ruthlessly against the Picts, who are portrayed as backwards, savage, cultish, animal-like, and completely bloodthirsty. Conan has a ticking clock on his quest this time- in fact, it's one of the strongest setups in any Conan story so far- the evil sorcerer Zogar Sag had been captured by the Aquilonians, but recently escaped and is picking off prominent members of the settlers as revenge. If he beheads five Aquilonians, terrible things will happen, meaning Conan has to act quickly.
The fort allows Conan to lead a detachment of 12 men to attack the Pict village of Gwawela while they still have time. What results is a constant thrill ride of stealth missions, heart-pounding chase scenes, fierce battles against prehistoric beasts, and a magical showdown at the end. It's an old saying that to write a good adventure story, your hero should lose every battle but win the war, and that's almost exactly what happens to Conan in this story (though Conan does, yeah, lose the war, technically). Through setback after setback, he perseveres, losing most of the people he meets along the way, but ultimately surviving.
Conan fights ruthlessly against the Picts, who are portrayed as backwards, savage, cultish, animal-like, and completely bloodthirsty. Conan has a ticking clock on his quest this time- in fact, it's one of the strongest setups in any Conan story so far- the evil sorcerer Zogar Sag had been captured by the Aquilonians, but recently escaped and is picking off prominent members of the settlers as revenge. If he beheads five Aquilonians, terrible things will happen, meaning Conan has to act quickly.
The fort allows Conan to lead a detachment of 12 men to attack the Pict village of Gwawela while they still have time. What results is a constant thrill ride of stealth missions, heart-pounding chase scenes, fierce battles against prehistoric beasts, and a magical showdown at the end. It's an old saying that to write a good adventure story, your hero should lose every battle but win the war, and that's almost exactly what happens to Conan in this story (though Conan does, yeah, lose the war, technically). Through setback after setback, he perseveres, losing most of the people he meets along the way, but ultimately surviving.
Every now and then, we see Robert E. Howard push at the boundaries of pulp fiction. "The God in the Bowl" was a mystery story. "A Witch Shall Be Born" implements elements of epistolary writing into it. "The Tower of the Elephant" plays with science fiction. "Beyond the Black River" is another peculiar Conan story. It seems to be an experimentation on two fronts for its author.
One, it is almost entirely devoid of women characters. It's true that many Conan stories feature exactly one (1) woman character, so dropping that count to zero might not seem like much.
But Conan stories had on-and-off become dependent on having a sexy, young woman who's completely smitten with Conan rounding out the cast. It seems like the more desperate Howard was to sell a story to the editors at Weird Tales, the more likely he was to write one of those ladies into his plot. While it appears that he was generally negative about this and felt that adventure story readers were too reliant on sex, which I wrote about extensively in my "Red Nails" post, he played the game frequently. Howard confirmed that this lack of a female companion was intentional when he wrote in a letter to his friend:
One, it is almost entirely devoid of women characters. It's true that many Conan stories feature exactly one (1) woman character, so dropping that count to zero might not seem like much.
But Conan stories had on-and-off become dependent on having a sexy, young woman who's completely smitten with Conan rounding out the cast. It seems like the more desperate Howard was to sell a story to the editors at Weird Tales, the more likely he was to write one of those ladies into his plot. While it appears that he was generally negative about this and felt that adventure story readers were too reliant on sex, which I wrote about extensively in my "Red Nails" post, he played the game frequently. Howard confirmed that this lack of a female companion was intentional when he wrote in a letter to his friend:
"My latest sales have been a 23,000 word Oriental adventure yarn to Top- Notch, and a two-part Conan serial to Weird Tales; no sex in the latter. I wanted to see if I could write an interesting Conan yarn without sex interest."
And two, the far more interesting part of the experiment, is that "Beyond the Black River" is a western. It may take place about 12,000 years ago on another continent, but it's absolutely a western in the same way that Firefly and Star Wars are westerns. Howard thought so too:
"My latest sales to Weird Tales have been a two-part Conan serial: 'Beyond the Black River' — a frontier story... In the Conan story I’ve attempted a new style and setting entirely—abandoned the exotic settings of lost cities, decaying civilizations, golden domes, marble palaces, silk-clad dancing girls, etc., and thrown my story against a back-ground of forests and rivers, log cabins, frontier outposts, buckskin-clad settlers, and painted tribesmen."
Howard's world in this story is actually reminiscent of something much older than westerns. The fact that the west is "normal" and the east is exotic reminds me of maps going as far back as the 13th century (I loved studying these in my Old English class back in undergrad). In the Psalter map, the farther one gets from England, the more horrid and fantastic the world is, ranging from Christ on one end of the map to horrifying monster creatures called blemmyae on the far sides. Howard takes this a step further by making "the west" in his world so far removed from the exotic that it ceases to be even a fantasy world. It instead becomes the much more recent, much more mundane (but I mean that as a "normal" way, not in a bad way) American frontier that he himself called home.
The sides of the battles in "Beyond the Black River" are drawn along the lines of the traditional western myth, long established in American literature. Daniel Weiss explains in his essay "Robert E. Howard's Barbarian and the Western:"
The sides of the battles in "Beyond the Black River" are drawn along the lines of the traditional western myth, long established in American literature. Daniel Weiss explains in his essay "Robert E. Howard's Barbarian and the Western:"
Howard’s life in Texas was shaped by Texan history, while at the same time, he fantasized about distant lands. But his interest in western history — its influence on the American imagination — was never far from his mind.
Conan and the Aquilonians are the pilgrims, the settlers, the white frontiersmen. The Picts are the Native Americans, standing in the way of "taming" the west. He even goes as far as to drape his Pictish shaman Zogar Sag in feathers.
I think these tropes will be instantly recognizable to any American reader (They definitely hit close to home for me, since I grew up across the highway from Bent's Old Fort in southeast Colorado, an old west trading post), and while they are incredibly problematic, it is very interesting to see how Howard uses them to inform a sword-and-sorcery story. Some of these tropes just sort of sit in the story and he doesn't do much with them, while other parts are almost transformed by moving the western from the American frontier to the Hyborian Age.
The trope that is the most troubling is also the one that Howard does the least with in the narrative. The Picts, Howard's analogue for Native American cultures, fit perfectly into the racist stereotype employed by most films in the high western genre and a lot of frontier fiction. He chooses to give them widely-known plains Indian characteristics rather than many of the markers that other pseudo-historical accounts have given Picts, like blue tattoo-like skin markings, as John Bullard notes over at Adventures Fantastic. They're bloodthirsty semi-humans as far as the story is concerned, with no culture of their own save for their pagan rituals that inevitably revolve around sacrifices. I mean, holy fuck Howard, you named one of your bodies of water Scalp Creek in this thing. Subtlety was never his strong suit.
The thing that is interesting about Native American tropes in this story, though, is that Conan also fits into one. In many tales, Conan is depicted as the "noble savage:" simple, but also glorious in the way he goes about life. Howard even decides to draw further connections between the Picts and the Cimmerians by pointing out that disparate Cimmerian clans were united at the siege of Venarium to become victorious over Aquilonia when Conan was just 15, exactly as the Picts are doing now. It turns the story into a two-pronged use of stereotypes, as the villains are one and the hero is another form of anti-indigenous racism.
I find it hard to call it anything other than racism, because when a white, blue-eyed character like Conan is living the simple life, it is upheld as an example of peak existence, while any character naturally darker-skinned than Conan is to be pitied at best, or to be eliminated at worst. When Conan fights against his land being colonized, it ignites the righteous rage of a proud people. When the Picts do it, the innocent settlers of Aquilonia need to be protected at all costs. The head of Balthus at the end of the story is worth the heads of ten Picts, according to Conan himself.
Strangely enough, Howard writes early in the story, "The Picts were a white race, though swarthy, but the border men never spoke of them as such." I find it strange that this line exists in the story when it's clear that whiteness is the reason why Conan sides with the Aquilonians rather than with fellow "barbarians," the Picts. Additionally, the next Howard-penned story chronologically, "The Black Stranger" / "The Treasure of Tranicos" clearly deems the Picts not white, saying, "The Cimmerian knew he was the only white man ever to cross the wilderness that lay between that river and the coast."
Conan even verbally draws a line between "white men" and "Picts" when choosing not to abandon some of his acquaintances in "The Treasure of Tranicos:"
I think these tropes will be instantly recognizable to any American reader (They definitely hit close to home for me, since I grew up across the highway from Bent's Old Fort in southeast Colorado, an old west trading post), and while they are incredibly problematic, it is very interesting to see how Howard uses them to inform a sword-and-sorcery story. Some of these tropes just sort of sit in the story and he doesn't do much with them, while other parts are almost transformed by moving the western from the American frontier to the Hyborian Age.
The trope that is the most troubling is also the one that Howard does the least with in the narrative. The Picts, Howard's analogue for Native American cultures, fit perfectly into the racist stereotype employed by most films in the high western genre and a lot of frontier fiction. He chooses to give them widely-known plains Indian characteristics rather than many of the markers that other pseudo-historical accounts have given Picts, like blue tattoo-like skin markings, as John Bullard notes over at Adventures Fantastic. They're bloodthirsty semi-humans as far as the story is concerned, with no culture of their own save for their pagan rituals that inevitably revolve around sacrifices. I mean, holy fuck Howard, you named one of your bodies of water Scalp Creek in this thing. Subtlety was never his strong suit.
The thing that is interesting about Native American tropes in this story, though, is that Conan also fits into one. In many tales, Conan is depicted as the "noble savage:" simple, but also glorious in the way he goes about life. Howard even decides to draw further connections between the Picts and the Cimmerians by pointing out that disparate Cimmerian clans were united at the siege of Venarium to become victorious over Aquilonia when Conan was just 15, exactly as the Picts are doing now. It turns the story into a two-pronged use of stereotypes, as the villains are one and the hero is another form of anti-indigenous racism.
I find it hard to call it anything other than racism, because when a white, blue-eyed character like Conan is living the simple life, it is upheld as an example of peak existence, while any character naturally darker-skinned than Conan is to be pitied at best, or to be eliminated at worst. When Conan fights against his land being colonized, it ignites the righteous rage of a proud people. When the Picts do it, the innocent settlers of Aquilonia need to be protected at all costs. The head of Balthus at the end of the story is worth the heads of ten Picts, according to Conan himself.
Strangely enough, Howard writes early in the story, "The Picts were a white race, though swarthy, but the border men never spoke of them as such." I find it strange that this line exists in the story when it's clear that whiteness is the reason why Conan sides with the Aquilonians rather than with fellow "barbarians," the Picts. Additionally, the next Howard-penned story chronologically, "The Black Stranger" / "The Treasure of Tranicos" clearly deems the Picts not white, saying, "The Cimmerian knew he was the only white man ever to cross the wilderness that lay between that river and the coast."
Conan even verbally draws a line between "white men" and "Picts" when choosing not to abandon some of his acquaintances in "The Treasure of Tranicos:"
"'But I'm not going to do that!' Conan roared. 'Not because I have any love for you dogs, but because a white man doesn't leave white men, even his enemies, to be butchered by Picts.'"
If we put aside the detestable action of siding with someone solely because you see them as your own race, the Picts are apparently white, but not white white and they’re nonwhite enough to be othered by most of the white characters. In a way, Howard is agreeing with the progressive idea that race is a social construct. Paradoxically, Howard is expressing viciously racist views while also predicting antiracist concepts from decades on.
But "Beyond the Black River" is far from just regressive western tropes, though. Whether Howard intended all of the political messaging in this story or if it showed up by accident isn't super important, but I am reminded of playwrights like Sophocles and Shakespeare writing politically-coded stories that help the blow land softer because they set them in earlier, mythical times. Goddamn, did I really just compare a pulp story to Sophocles and Shakespeare? Give me a second to make my point.
Conan, frequently as the mouthpiece for Howard's politics, makes some interesting statements in this story. In the first chapter, Conan makes almost a socialist and anti-colonialist argument.
But "Beyond the Black River" is far from just regressive western tropes, though. Whether Howard intended all of the political messaging in this story or if it showed up by accident isn't super important, but I am reminded of playwrights like Sophocles and Shakespeare writing politically-coded stories that help the blow land softer because they set them in earlier, mythical times. Goddamn, did I really just compare a pulp story to Sophocles and Shakespeare? Give me a second to make my point.
Conan, frequently as the mouthpiece for Howard's politics, makes some interesting statements in this story. In the first chapter, Conan makes almost a socialist and anti-colonialist argument.
"Some day they'll try to sweep the settlers out of Conajohara. And they may succeed—probably will succeed. This colonization business is mad, anyway. There's plenty of good land east of the Bossonian marches. If the Aquilonians would cut up some of the big estates of their barons, and plant wheat where now only deer are hunted, they wouldn't have to cross the border and take the land of the Picts away from them."
Surprising. That's a pretty good case for the redistribution of wealth and for them to end colonization. If the oligarchy would avoid opulent overconsumption, there would be less case for the poor people of Aquilonia to have to strike out into dangerous conditions to just scrape by with subsistence farming. And Conan is acknowledging that the land they're on belongs to the Picts: colonization is not the filling in of a blank space, but the replacement of one population with another. Conan says, "Free Palestine."
As REH was a lifelong Texan, it's interesting to see that he might have held some sympathies for the tribes displaced by Texas settlers, or at least may have felt bitter about the burdens that he saw country people carrying during the Depression.
As REH was a lifelong Texan, it's interesting to see that he might have held some sympathies for the tribes displaced by Texas settlers, or at least may have felt bitter about the burdens that he saw country people carrying during the Depression.
What is for sure is that "Beyond the Black River" makes it clear that Howard believes society softens and weakens a person and that it's nature that gives a person the physical prowess that Conan possesses. Describing Conan from Balthus's perspective, he says:
"Evidently Conan had spent much time among civilized men, though that contact had obviously not softened him, nor weakened any of his primitive instincts. Balthus' apprehension turned to admiration as he marked the easy catlike stride, the effortless silence with which the Cimmerian moved along the trail. The oiled links of his armor did not clink, and Balthus knew Conan could glide through the deepest thicket or most tangled copse as noiselessly as any naked Pict that ever lived."
I noted briefly in my "Red Nails" writing that barbarism for Howard is a kind of simplicity. I like how Daniel Weiss says it:
...an uncluttered intellect, unsullied with the political cravings, irrational desires, or other distractions a civilized man suffers.
Conan remains untainted by the weakness of society and retains the strength given to him by his barbarism. For Howard, there is even a mystical quality to holding onto that simplicity of barbarian life. It gives a person a natural, animal-like power that apparently has threads to the very dawn of man in his philosophy.
"The barbarian's eyes were smoldering with fires that never lit the eyes of men bred to the ideas of civilization. In that instant he was all wild, and had forgotten the man at his side. In his burning gaze Balthus glimpsed and vaguely recognized pristine images and half-embodied memories, shadows from Life's dawn, forgotten and repudiated by sophisticated races—ancient, primeval fantasms unnamed and nameless."
This is also mirrored in the fact that Zogar Sag summons forth only incredibly ancient beasts from the forest. In the logic of a Conan the Barbarian story, older is better, stronger. Then, only through even somehow more ancient knowledge, is Conan able to fend off the beasts, using the sigil of Jhebbal Sag. It has been long forgotten with the exception of the memories of a few, and its age is its power.
I'm very easily reminded of the concept of the sublime (not the terrible band) that was inspiring to Romantic-era British writers like Percy and Mary Shelley. Jesus Christ, I've compared Howard to both Shakespeare and Mary Shelley in the same blog post, so I think I need to ease up on the coffee.
The sublime is the awesome (as in awe-inspiring power of capital-G God and capital-N Nature rather than, like, something that's totally tubular, dude) feeling within ourselves that we experience looking at an enormous mountain range, or a raging sea, for example. We could so easily be crushed like an ant beneath the boot of Nature. There's a fear there, but also an appreciation of a type of beauty. Conan's strength, for Howard, is clearly something to be revered, awed at, and strived toward.
We get some of Howard's best-ever lines describing the sublime qualities of the forested frontier, reminding us that nature is an unconquered thing of its own:
I'm very easily reminded of the concept of the sublime (not the terrible band) that was inspiring to Romantic-era British writers like Percy and Mary Shelley. Jesus Christ, I've compared Howard to both Shakespeare and Mary Shelley in the same blog post, so I think I need to ease up on the coffee.
The sublime is the awesome (as in awe-inspiring power of capital-G God and capital-N Nature rather than, like, something that's totally tubular, dude) feeling within ourselves that we experience looking at an enormous mountain range, or a raging sea, for example. We could so easily be crushed like an ant beneath the boot of Nature. There's a fear there, but also an appreciation of a type of beauty. Conan's strength, for Howard, is clearly something to be revered, awed at, and strived toward.
We get some of Howard's best-ever lines describing the sublime qualities of the forested frontier, reminding us that nature is an unconquered thing of its own:
"The shadows were thickening. A darkening blue mist blurred the outlines of the foliage. The forest deepened in the twilight, became a blue haunt of mystery sheltering unguessed things."
Like Conan's barbarism lending him strength, Howard speaks highly of the unnamed settler characters in the narrative, imbuing them with a quiet strength that leaves the unshaken even when they're threatened. This even extends, surprisingly, to his female characters on the frontier.
"They stared at him seriously, making no outcry. The woman took the horse's halter and set out up the road. She still gripped her ax and Balthus knew that if cornered she would fight with the desperate courage of a she-panther."
"But the old woman, a stern old veteran of the frontier, quieted them harshly; she helped Balthus get out the two horses that were stabled in a pen behind the cabin and put the children on them. Balthus urged that she herself mount with them, but she shook her head and made one of the younger women ride.
'She's with child,' grunted the old woman. 'I can walk—and fight, too, if it comes to that.'"
These characters are pretty unique in the Hyborian canon. Not only is one of them old, as opposed to the young, sexy ladies hanging off of Conan's arm, but they're unflappable and ready to defend themselves- with lethal force if they must.
Not all of this is detective work on my part, though. Howard finishes the story by just coming out and saying his thesis plainly.
Not all of this is detective work on my part, though. Howard finishes the story by just coming out and saying his thesis plainly.
"The forester stared at him, comparing him with the men about them, the men who had died along the lost river, comparing him with those other wild men over that river. Conan did not seem aware of his gaze.
'Barbarism is the natural state of mankind,' the borderer said, still staring somberly at the Cimmerian. 'Civilization is unnatural. It is a whim of circumstance. And barbarism must always ultimately triumph.'"
So barbarism is more natural than civilization and will always win when the two are pitted against one another.
I'm inclined to think that this unnamed forester is Howard himself, inserting a stand-in into the story. The forester stares at Conan and speaks to him, with Conan seemingly unaware of either, the same way Howard follows Conan's adventures on the page. He compares the Cimmerian with the other frontiersmen around, as Howard has often compared Conan to the men in the taverns of Zamora and the palaces of Shem and the tents of Turan. Knowing Howard's penchant for considering Conan stories to be remembrances that have sprung up from the past, it just seems like an incredibly Howardian thing to have this line spoken by Conan's chronicler himself.
"Beyond the Black River" is perhaps Howard's magnum opus on Conan. I wouldn't say it's quite as purely entertaining as "The Tower of the Elephant" or "Black Colossus," but it is far more worth discussing. It's Howard's thesis on plain living, the power of nature, and the American frontier myth. It's weird western with actual philosophical things to say. It's absolutely Howard raising a twenty-five cent pulp publication into the realm of literature.
"Moon of Blood" is up next!
★★★★★
I'm inclined to think that this unnamed forester is Howard himself, inserting a stand-in into the story. The forester stares at Conan and speaks to him, with Conan seemingly unaware of either, the same way Howard follows Conan's adventures on the page. He compares the Cimmerian with the other frontiersmen around, as Howard has often compared Conan to the men in the taverns of Zamora and the palaces of Shem and the tents of Turan. Knowing Howard's penchant for considering Conan stories to be remembrances that have sprung up from the past, it just seems like an incredibly Howardian thing to have this line spoken by Conan's chronicler himself.
"Beyond the Black River" is perhaps Howard's magnum opus on Conan. I wouldn't say it's quite as purely entertaining as "The Tower of the Elephant" or "Black Colossus," but it is far more worth discussing. It's Howard's thesis on plain living, the power of nature, and the American frontier myth. It's weird western with actual philosophical things to say. It's absolutely Howard raising a twenty-five cent pulp publication into the realm of literature.
"Moon of Blood" is up next!
★★★★★
Author
Hey, I'm Dan. This is my project reading through the career of everyone's favorite sword-and-sorcery character, Conan the Cimmerian, in chronological order.
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