Roy Thomas's CONAN THE BARBARIAN: A "War of the Tarim" Retrospective

1970's Conan the Barbarian title starts out a little weird. As young Conan putzes around just outside of Cimmeria in the first three issues, it's near-universally considered to be a slow start to one of the (eventual) best comics of the 70s. There are flashes of what is to come in #3, "The Twilight of the Grim Grey God," but most of it is rather tonally inconsistent, like author Roy Thomas isn't exactly sure what he wants to do on the book.

Even as the thief stories start with issue #4's adaptation of "The Tower of the Elephant," it doesn't automatically get better even though we're entering one of Conan's most fun life periods. Conan certainly improves quite a bit from issue #7-on, which would see free adaptation of "The God in the Bowl," "Rogues in the House," "The Garden of Fear" and a psychedelic crossover with Elric of Melnibone. Like its title barbarian, the book tends to wander for a while, and even though there are some great issues, it doesn't really have a clear narrative thrust.

Where it all really comes together about a dozen and a half issues in when Roy Thomas begins his "War of the Tarim" storyline.

The whole War of the Tarim is a Roy Thomas original... in a way. It's set in Conan's first mercenary period, which in the generally-accepted timeline comes in his early-to-mid twenties, right after his thieving. He goes east for the first time an enlists in the army of Turan, learning how to ride a horse, use a bow and arrow, and strategize militarily. As far as the Robert E. Howard original canon goes, there's not much there. The unfinished fragment "The Hand of Nergal" is all REH really included, though the period is fleshed out some more if you consider the L. Sprague de Camp stuff from the 60s. Roy says that from the start he was looking for a way to reenact the Trojan War in CtB, and this is where he finally got his chance.

Roy Thomas and Barry Windsor-Smith were planning an epic.

The War of the Tarim story arc, which more or less spans issues #19 to #26, is soft-launched by the creative team in issues #17 and 18 as they adapt Howard's "The Gods of Bal-Sagoth." These issues are a lot of fun and I honestly liked them better than the prose original (I found having Conan and Fafnir as the main characters a little more engaging) though Gil Kane's art can be hit-or-miss and sometimes his faces look oddly off-model. These two issues dumped Conan into the waters of the Vilayet Sea as he wanders substantially east for the first time. He crosses paths with an old bit-part character named Fafnir who appeared briefly in Conan #6. He begins as a rival, and eventually becomes a friend. Conan and Fafnir (who call each other "Redbeard" and "Little Man," respectively) are perfect analogues to that shot from Predator where Arnie and Carl are locking hands and flexing their biceps like oversized baseballs, only this time it's one dude with black hair and one dude with red.

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The end of issue #18 lands the Cimmerian on the ship of Prince Yezdigerd, a royal up until then had never really been in the spotlight of stories. Rather, he had always been a more unseen force that worked behind the scenes to periodically throw a wrench into Conan's plans. As it's better than being thrown overboard, Conan takes up with the Turanian army.

Conan #19 kicks off the Tarim War for real. It's explained to our young northerner that spies from the city of Makkalet a few short weeks ago stole into the city of Aghrapur and kidnapped the "living Tarim," the current incarnation of an ancient god who freed the Hyrkanian people long ago and has been worshipped ever since in whatever form into which he is reborn. 

Conan just scowls and scoffs at the wooden carving of the Tarim lashed to the boat, and this is where the real dramatic rub comes in for the story. Not only is Conan not a true believer in either side of this holy war, but he feels bald contempt for both sides. He will fight, but his first question is what it pays. They land in Makkalet and Conan does what he does best.

Barry Windsor-Smith's art in this issue, "Hawks from the Sea," is a serious trade-up from the two previous Gil Kane-penciled books. His beautifully-hatched, rococo style works so much better for the Hyborian Age than Kane's action figure poses. He does great covers, but I always felt his interiors looked better for superhero titles. Because of comic creation's breakneck schedule, the team didn't even have time to ink the second half of the book and it leaves it with an interesting Prince Valiant feel. It certainly looks different than the inked work, lacking the strong outlines and deep blacks comics usually have, but it doesn't look worse.

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Perhaps it's because Conan is not fighting for gods or glory, but the story is surprisingly not enamored with this war. It takes the time to show us the meaninglessness of the violence as Conan looks down from atop a wall, aiding an injured Fafnir. Even with a reader sobered by that scene, the skeletal soldiers summoned by the mysterious wizard, Kharam-Akkad, are sick as fuck.

The war continues in issue #20, "The Black Hound of Vengeance," in which Conan comes closer to Kharam-Akkad. Fafnir loses an arm, which Roy refers to as one of the "dark undersides of the glories of the Trojan War." They wanted to humanize our Cimmerian hero a bit.

​The real achievement worth talking about in this issue actually comes when the story of the book is almost entirely over: for a two-page epilogue, Barry chose to just draw about a dozen illustrations and Roy wrote in prose, placing the text in and around the drawings as needed. The resulting vibe is like reading the bloodiest picture book you can imagine, while Conan puts a permanent scar on Yezdigerd's cheek before diving off the edge of the ship. The epilogue paces the end of the book well and calls back to the pulp era that works so well for Conan.

"The Monster of the Monoliths," which follows in issue #21, features an all-time great Barry Windsor-Smith cover to go along with a story that Roy Thomas feels only treads water. It says it's based on REH's "The Black Stone," but I don't feel like the issue evokes "The Black Stone" at all. It feels far more like the L. Sprague de Camp pastiche "The Curse of the Monolith." Conan swaps sides in the war, but the city of Makkalet is not without its own problems. We see a betrayal and, as Conan is strapped to a monolith with an eldritch frog, he barely escapes with his life. Though he wants to ride west and away from the war, he keeps a vow he has made and returns to Makkalet to enlist friends for the conflict.

Fans in the 1970s had to wait a bit to see the story continue, as that aforementioned comic crunch claimed issue #22 in its churn. Without a story finished, but with a stellar Barry Windsor-Smith cover already sent to the printer, Roy sheepishly reprinted Conan #1, with the promise that the saga would be back in the following issue. It was, but with a noticeably less impressive Gil Kane cover. Though both issues #22 and 23 were intended to introduce Red Sonja to the Conan mythos, neither cover actually depicts her in the cover illustration, which seems odd today considering that she's clearly the breakout character of 70s Conan.

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Roy says that it was nice to have Conan's life all mapped out before he even began writing. He knew that he would eventually introduce Conan's raven-haired Shemite love, Bêlit, in "Queen of the Black Coast" and his blond companion, Valeria in "Red Nails." So he decided to introduce a red-haired character as an occasional ally and occasional adversary to the big guy. In order to do this, he looked to the REH story "The Shadow of the Vulture" to adapt the WWI character Red Sonya of Rogatino into Red Sonja of Hyrkania. Much has been written about this already; you likely already know this bit.

Sonja's debut issue is actually probably one of least-exciting of the War of the Tarim, at least until Sonja and Conan exact some espionage-style revenge at the end of the book. The story just seems to go by a little too quickly: it introduces the character Mikhal Oglu, "the Vulture," and establishes him as a terrifying, shadowy menace for a few panels, but doesn't really do a whole lot with him. Roy wishes he'd stretched the story out to become a two-parter, and I think he's right. It would've hit a little harder.

Sonja feels a little off in this story. Not only is this prior to her acquiring her signature chainmail bikini, but she's also got more realistic orangeish-red hair rather than literal crimson, and she looks slightly older than she usually does today.

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Issue #24, "The Song of Red Sonja," fares a lot better than #23. It's just a more fun time than its predecessor as Conan and Sonja sneak into a palace tower of Makkalet under the pretense that they're simply thieving. But Sonja has a hidden mission there as well. She introduces Conan to the magical phrase "Ka Nama Kaa Lajerama" which Conan will use periodically to ward off evil serpent-people of the god Set.

I am left wondering if the reason why this issue is so good lies with Barry Windsor-Smith. He had decided to leave the Conan the Barbarian title and wanted this issue to be his ultimate statement. Roy gave Barry the green light to play around a bit. That full-page dance at the beginning? All Barry. The tower and treasure and snake monsters? Barry again.

Roy and Barry seem to have liked what they did for the epilogue of issue #20, because the combination of unbordered illustrations and straight prose returns twice in this issue for brief asides. They kind of tie the War of the Tarim era together under one style, so it's cool to see it return. I wish more comics would break up their formula in ways like this more often.

Sonja gets the best of Conan (this time, anyway!) and disappears. 

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The intricate piles of treasure in the tower and the bejeweled snakeskins were among the final Conan the Barbarian images Barry Windsor-Smith would ever draw. Barry did a few Savage Sword books, some Conan Saga covers, and a Conan Vs. Rune one-shot decades later, but "The Song of Red Sonja" would be his last time penciling the regular Conan title. Comparing his work in the first few issues to what he was doing just three years later is astounding. He'd grown from the friendly, square-jawed Jack Kirby figures to an unmistakably unique skillset in just a few years.

I would mourn his exit from Conan, but finally made room on the roster for John Buscema to finally step in as the regular Conan penciller. Buscema draws Conan the way John Romita drew Spider-Man: crystallized and perfectly. Not only was Buscema destined to be Conan's long-term artist, but his interiors and covers took a title that was already climbing in sales and then kicked it into high gear, eventually becoming one of Marvel's bestselling series.

Big John's first issue as artist sends the War of the Tarim careening toward its conclusion. Issue #25 finally allows the sorcerer Kharam-Akkad and the Cimmerian barbarian to face off in a riff on the Howard classic, "The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune." As Conan does battle with the wizard, the crazed faces of the Turanians march on Makkalet yelling, "For the Tarim!" 

With Kharam-Akkad dispatched in spectacular, prophesized fashion (foreshadowing Conan's future tenure as Amra the Lion), all that is left is to see who will claim the living Tarim once and for all.

"The Hour of the Griffin" in issue #26 serves as the war's epic conclusion. Issue #25 had brought the Roy Thomas / John Buscema team together, but issue #26 would bring about the final piece of the puzzle: longtime Buscema inker Ernie Chan would inks Big John's pencils for the first time.

​Finally bringing that whole Trojan War thing back around, the Turanians invade Makkalet by sneaking through tunnels into a horse statue in the city. With the gates open, pandemonium fills the streets. Conan reluctantly rescues some royals before retreating to the chamber which happens to house the Tarim himself.

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Conan scoffs at the robed figure and commands that he reveal himself to an unbeliever. He knocks over a brazier which fills the room with light and throws the Tarim's image on countless mirrors, which was apparently Kharam-Akkad's preferred home décor choice. What Conan sees is not a god, but a drooling, inbred old man.

Once he processes what he sees, Conan involuntarily throws his head back and laughs. He is vindicated as men fight and die in a holy war which he's seen right through from the start. The Tarim is struck by a stray arrow from the invading forces, causing him to fall into the uncovered brazier and burn to death. Prince Yezdigerd and the Turanians find the body, re-cloak him, and prop him up for the coming procession. "The city that houses the living Tarim lays claim to homage from all Hyrkanian peoples. My faithful troops expect a procession, come the dawn... and by dark Erlik, they shall have it!" spake Yezdigerd, revealing that this was a political power grab, never a sincere attempt at a rescue.

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Roy intended to use Conan #26 to set the Cimmerian on a new path, which he does, sending our hero riding out of Makkalet, westbound and away from all this holy war bullshit.

His time in Turan was not over, but Conan the Barbarian the character, and Conan the Barbarian the comic book series would go back to wandering. However, the next 91 issues would be an adventure worth reading. And eventually, Roy would find a special spark again, greatly expanding on REH's stories to once again put his own stamp on things, this time by pairing Conan with his greatest love for an astounding 40+ issues of pirate marauding.