Short Take: "The God in the Bowl," Robert E. Howard

This review was originally published on Pol Culture.

Robert E. Howard’s third Conan the Barbarian story, “The God in the Bowl,” is a murder mystery with sword-and-sorcery< trappings. Howard drafted the story in 1932, but it didn’t see print while he was alive. Farnsworth Wright, the editor of the Weird Tales pulp magazine, rejected it. The story was discovered in Howard’s papers after his death. A revised version by L. Sprague de Camp was published in the September 1952 issue of Space Science Fiction (cover above). The original text didn’t see print until 1975, when it appeared in the limited-edition Howard collection The Tower of the Elephant, published by Donald M. Grant. It seems surprising that the story was rejected at the time it was written. It’s an entertaining effort, and one may find it more enjoyable than “The Phoenix on the Sword,” the first Conan story to see print. Howard doesn’t include many of the supernatural allusions that gave the earlier effort its fascination, but the story at hand plays better. The setting is a temple museum. The temple’s owner has been found murdered, and Conan, who was discovered breaking in to the museum to rob it, is the prime suspect. But the authorities on the scene don’t quite accept him as the culprit. Part of the reason is that the details of the crime don’t point to him as the killer. But there’s a strong underlying suggestion--and this gives the story a welcome dash of humor--that the authorities don’t relish the prospect of trying to arrest Conan unless they are absolutely sure of his guilt. His combat skills all but guarantee a pile of corpses if there is any attempt at capture. But he doesn’t try to leave the scene, and the investigation calmly continues. The temple owner’s malevolence comes to light, as does the act that prompted his murder. The real killer is eventually discovered, and this provides some additional humor: Conan is the only character with the courage and fighting acumen to confront him. The story ends on an oblique note that refers to the mysterious supernatural aspects of Conan’s world, and as with “The Phoenix on the Sword," it’s the sort of intriguing bit that hooks the reader into coming back for more with the character. One wants to learn more about the world he lives in. “The God in the Bowl” isn’t a great adventure story, but it’s a good one: rich with description of the exotic locale, and briskly paced. And it certainly holds one’s attention while one explores this enigmatic fictional setting.

Short Take: "The Frost-Giant's Daughter," Robert E. Howard

This review was originally published on Pol Culture.

"The Frost-Giant's Daughter," pulp author Robert E. Howard's second story featuring his sword-and-sorcery hero Conan the Barbarian, was unpublished during his lifetime. It was written in 1932, but Weird Tales editor Farnsworth Wright rejected it, and it didn't see print until the 1953 Howard collection The Coming of Conan. While "The Phoenix on the Sword," the first Conan story, presented the character in middle age, this outing features the younger version familiar to most readers. It opens with the finale of a battle between Conan and the warriors of a northern mountain tribe. After Conan defeats the last of them, a beautiful young woman appears. He is consumed with lust for her, and chases her across the snow-covered mountain pass. She turns out to be a femme fatale; her only goal was to lure him into battle with her frost-giant brothers, where he will hopefully be killed. Structurally, the story isn't much: it's just this happens, and this happens, and this happens. Howard concludes it with a final twist that revolves around whether the woman was real or a hallucination. But the question isn't well prepared for in the earlier sections of the story, so it just feels tacked on. It must be said Howard does a fine job of rendering the action of the story; the battle scenes, though brief, are vivid and brutal. He also keeps the reader keenly aware of the wintry environment and the impediments it creates for Conan throughout. Ultimately, though, the strengths of Howard's writing pale against the story's odious misogyny. A woman is presented as nothing more than a malevolent, taunting sex object. The main source of suspense is whether Conan will succeed in raping her. The story is effectively told from Conan's perspective, and there's no sense on his part or Howard's that rape is an evil, monstrous thing. The morality of Conan's actions are treated as beneath notice. It's an appalling story, and one ends up rather grateful that Howard didn't do a better job of putting it together. A more effectively crafted piece would have rubbed the reader's nose in the ugliness even more. The above illustration is by Frank Frazetta.

Short Take: "The Phoenix on the Sword," Robert E. Howard

This is a revised version of a review that was originally published at Pol Culture.

Conan the Barbarian, the most famous creation of pulp prose author Robert E. Howard, is the defining hero of the sword-and-sorcery adventure genre. He made his debut in the story “The Phoenix on the Sword,” first published in the December 1932 issue of Weird Tales (cover at left). In this first appearance, Conan is different than one expects. His days as a nomadic adventurer are behind him; he has conquered the kingdom of Aquilonia and now sits on its throne. The story is fairly straightforward adventure pulp. It concerns a scheme by a group of nobles and courtiers to assassinate Conan and usurp his crown. Things are complicated by intrigues among the conspirators, some supernatural elements are thrown into the mix, and the story climaxes with an expectedly bloody battle against Conan. Howard has a weakness for archly pompous sentence constructions, but overall his prose is clear, efficient, and fast-paced. However, his most compelling quality is not his talent for adventure plotting, nor his skill as a wordsmith. He shows a remarkable ability to tantalize the reader with hints about the narrative world in which the story takes place. There are several portentous references to Conan’s bygone adventures and ultimate destiny. Howard also teases with the ambitions of the sinister mystic Thoth-Amon, and the role of Earth as a stage for conflicts among supernatural forces. The reader is left satisfied by the adventure at hand, but what sticks in the memory are those unresolved, coyly discordant bits that point to an even greater story beyond. One cannot help but want to learn more about the characters, the setting, and that setting’s past and future. Hooking the reader is a major goal of any series-fiction author, and Howard achieves it.