It’s Throwback Thursday. I thought it would be fun to go back and listen to some ground-breaking music, if not historically ground-breaking, then personally ground-breaking to my own music habits.
It was 1971. I was fourteen, a year into my teens, but still rather innocent musically. That fall I would be entering high school as a freshman.
My dad took me to a record store. Until this day, my musical tastes were poppish and bubblegummy. On the more mature side, I listened to the Beatles, but on the still chikd-like side, I had the entire collection of The Archies albums. I also liked the Monkeys, and most Top 40 hits that were played on the local AM radio station, WOKY, the Mighty 92! (920 on your AM radio dial.)
So who knows what I was looking for when I went in there? The Beatles had broken up the year before, so there would be nothing new from them. The Monkees technically were gone for several years. I liked Creedence Clearwater Revival and their breakup was still a year away, so maybe something from them.
Hard to say. So I just browsed, which is a lost art today considering there are no more record stores. You’d start at A and work your way along looking at all the album art. Because back then, album art was just becoming a thing. In the ’60s, most albums were just graced with a picture of the singer or the band. Boring. But the drug scene changed that and album art became psychedelic, in many cases it was real works of art able to stand on it’s own.
Maybe The Beatles pioneered that, with covers like the White Album (“It’s literally, just a white album, man!” “Far out!”) Or Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which was a collage of many different pictures and great fun trying to find all the celebrities.
So often times while browsing you’d run across artwork on an album that was so compelling, you’d buy it even if you never heard of the band before.
Thus, when I got to the Bs, I flipped to this spooky cover. It was simple, really, just some woods, with a haunted looking house, and this blurry image of a green-skinned woman dressed like a witch. I was mesmerized. The only printing on the album were the words, Black Sabbath. What’s a Black Sabbath? I had to know.
“Are you sure?” My dad asked, who I have to believe knew about the band already because he was always kind of trendy.
Once home, I rushed up to my room and put it on my Realistic Clarinette II turntable. The album started with the gentle sound of falling rain, then thunder and the chime of a a bell, like a church bell bonging slowly as if announcing some impending doom. A moment later, the first deep, thunderous guitar note struck, reminiscent of the thunder that came before. Slowly, like a dirge, but powerful like a punch in the chest, the first three notes crashed against my senses and kept repeating, then they grew more soft accompanied by the drums, which were also soft like the rain.
Then came the vocals, deep, raspy like a death rattle, and they croaked out, “What is this, that stands before me? Figure in black, which points at me. Turn ’round quick and try to run, find out I’m the chosen one. Oh noooooo!”
It gave me chills. I could feel the terror of the song’s narrator. I was hooked! This wasn’t anything like The Archies at all!
Even as I’ve grown in my music tastes, this is still my favorite. It has a strong blues influence, yet Tony Iommi’s guitar detuned a step and a half, gives an additional darker, scarier feel to it.
In high school, I also discovered the writings of Robert E. Howard, specifically Conan the barbarian, King Kull, and Solomon Kane. It was like this music was made for it and I’d read those sword and sorcery tales while listening to Black Sabbath’s eponymous first album and also Vol. 4.
So today, when I listen to either of these albums, my mind makes a strong association with sorcerers, demons, black magic, and sword fighting. So strong is the association that I play them when I write in that genre because they not only make a great soundtrack to what I’m writing, but provide inspiration as well.
I mean, with songs like Black Sabbath, The Wizard, Behind the Wall of Sleep, and Sleeping Village, how could you not be inspired to write something demonic?
Here then, is that first album. To me, it still sounds as fresh as it did that day I first heard it as an innocent, pimply-faced kid back in 1971.
We’ve arrived! Conan the Adventurer was the book that started it all, for me and everyone. Although this is listed as the fifth book in the series of 12 Lancer/Ace Conan anthologies, in truth, it was the first book published in 1966 and ironically, the first book I read when I discovered them in 1971 or 1972, and oddly enough, the inside first page blurb says it’s the proposed fourth book in an eight book series. Confused?
I can still remember the day I first saw this. I was in Walden’s Books at Capital Court, the mall down the street from our house. I was browsing for something. I don’t know why, since at that time, I really wasn’t much of a reader. I read what they demanded of me in school and of my own choice, I read simple things like the Bobbsey Twins (the original series ran 72 volumes about two sets of fraternal twins), the Hardy Boys Mysteries (a series about two teenage amateur sleuths), and some books by Whitman Publishing starring television characters, like Lassie and Fury. and such. Books for children and teens. Safe books.
More than likely, I was there looking for the latest Mad Magazine paperback reprint by Signet (“The Bedside Mad,” “Boiling Mad,” “The Voodoo Mad,” and so on.), or possibly a paperback reprint of “The Wizard of Id,” or “BC,” or even “Eek and Meek.” But a real book? One with all words and no pictures? No. It wasn’t what interested me. Yet.
So how or why I found myself in the science fiction/fantasy men’s adventure area in the far corner of the bookstore, looking at the bottom shelf, I have no idea. And yet, I remember that moment like it was yesterday. There I was, scanning novels that I knew nothing about. The authors all unknown to me that day. And then I saw it! The name Conan meant nothing to me. The name Robert E. Howard meant nothing to me. But the cover art. This wasn’t a picture of Lassie pulling his owner out of a bog. No. This cover featured a massively muscled warrior standing grimly upon a pile of dead bodies while a scantily clad, sensuous woman clung to his leg. This wasn’t safe. That art, by Frank Frazetta, took me by the shirt collar and slapped my face, hard. It said, “Read me, you pencil-necked geek! Experience adventure! Experience unbridled, blood-splattered action!”
Below the picture were the words: THE WORLD’S GREATEST FANTASY HERO – “THE ULTIMATE IN SWASHBUCKLING ADVENTURE” and on the back it declared: A HERO MIGHTIER THAN TARZAN… ADVENTURES MORE IMAGINATIVE THAN “LORD OF THE RINGS”
I was sold. So I took Conan the Adventurer to the counter, paid for it, rushed home, and began to read and my life was forever changed. My vistas grew. My world expanded. I instantly matured. I became a reader (and it also sent me down the path of writing). I was hooked on Robert E. Howard, Frank Frazetta, and heroic fantasy.
Conan the Adventurer
Conan the Adventurer (1966) by Robert E. Howard and L. Sprague de Camp
Contents
“Introduction” (L. Sprague de Camp)
“The People of the Black Circle” (Robert E. Howard)
“The Slithering Shadow” (Robert E. Howard)
“Drums of Tombalku” (Robert E. Howard and L. Sprague de Camp)
“The Pool of the Black One” (Robert E. Howard)
Introduction. Brief introduction to Robert E. Howard and the Conan stories.
The People of the Black Circle. First published in Weird Tales over three issues, September, October, and November 1934. Reprinted in The Sword of Conan (Gnome Press 1952), Fantastic (January 1967), The Bloody Crown of Conan (Del Rey 2004). Adapted in Savage Sword of Conan #16-19. The second and third installments in Weird Tales were preceded by a recap written by Howard himself. This was unusual, because the Weird Tales staff usually wrote such things. These recaps were reprinted under the title of “The Story Thus Far…” in Conan of Cimmeria: Volume Two (1934) (Wandering Star 2004) and The Bloody Crown of Conan (Del Rey 2004).
This novella has been called one of Howard’s best and it is rather good, with plenty of action, magic, and interesting characters. The king of Vendhya is cursed by Black Seers of Yimsha. Conan is a hill chieftain who has seven of his men captured by the king’s sister, Devi Yasmina, who wants to use them as leverage to get Conan to kill the Seers.
Conan, in the meantime, sneaks in and captures Yasmina to exchange her life for his men’s. At the same time, Khemsa, a sorcerer of the Black Seers who was cursing the king, is convinced by his love that he should strike out on his own. Another player in the story is Kerim Shah, an agent of King Yezdigerd of Turan, who had enlisted the Black Seers aids to kill the king of Vendhya. Things get complicated and exciting as they all ride a bloody swathe toward the climax.
The Slithering Shadow. First published in Weird Tales (September 1933) as “Xuthal of the Dusk.” Republished in The Sword of Conan (Gnome Press, 1952). The Conan Chronicles Volume 1: The People of the Black Circle (Gollancz, 2000) as “The Slithering Shadow” and in Conan of Cimmeria: Volume One (1932-1933) (Del Rey, 2003) under its original title, “Xuthal of the Dusk.” It was adapted in Savage Sword of Conan #20.
Conan and his female companion Natala are the sole survivors of Prince Amuric’s army and are out alone in the desert. They come across a city and enter. The guard is dead, but as they pass, he comes to life and attacks, forcing Conan to kill him. The two soon learn that the inhabitants of the city, who seem dead, are in fact, under the influence of a narcotic that puts them in a death-like trance, all the while they are stalked by an ancient demon that kills the city-dwellers one by one. And now, its stalking Conan and his companion. Another rousing episode in the Conan saga by REH.
Drums of Tombalku. This story comes from an unfinished fragment and synopsis that L. Sprague de Camp finished and it was published in this anthology for the first time. It was reprinted in The Conan Chronicles Volume 1: The People of the Black Circle (Gollancz, 2000) and Conan of Cimmeria: Volume Two (1934) (Del Rey, 2005). It was adapted in Savage Sword of Conan #204.
The story focuses on a character known as Amalric and a woman from the city of Gazal named Lissa. She had run away from the city and was captured by some desert men who Amalric was with. The men fight over the girl and Amalric comes out on top. He helps her return to her city in the desert that he never heard of before. The city is crumbling, the people in some sort of trance and the only structure untouched by time is a red citadel that Lissa says contains whatever it is that is killing off her people. (Sound familiar? Didn’t we just read this in “The Slithering Shadow?”) Amalric decides to flee the city again, but Lissa is taken by the creature, Amalric ends up killing it. As they flee, seven black demonic horsemen chase them, but out of nowhere, Conan arrives. And that’s when things get interesting as Conan, Lissa, and Amalric become involved in tribal wars, witch doctors, and accusations of having killed a god. As a non-Howard story, it isn’t bad.
The Pool of the Black One. First published in Weird Tales (October 1933), a month after “A Slithering Shadow.” Reprinted in The Sword of Conan (Gnome Press, 1952), The Conan Chronicles Volume 1: The People of the Black Circle (2000) and Conan of Cimmeria: Volume One (1932-1933) (Del Rey, 2003).
Conan rises from the sea and boards the Wastrel, which is in the middle of nowhere, to the shock of the crew. He works his way into the Zingarans’ trust. Soon, the ship anchors offshore of a mysterious island. The crew goes ashore and is soon eating native fruit. The captain disappears into the woods, followed by Conan, who confronts the captain and kills him. But then, Conan sees a large black shadow carrying a white figure through the forest and Conan gives pursuit. He soon finds a green fortress inhabited by a group of black giants, who have captured one of the crew. One of the giants dips the sailor he captured into a green pool, but Conan has to duck down to avoid revealing himself and doesn’t see what happens to the sailor. The large inhuman creatures leave and Conan investigates but can’t find the body of the sailor, not even in the pool. But then he sees a shelf that has dozens of tiny carved figurines that look unnaturally real. He is shocked to see that one of them resembled the sailor. The giants, in the meantime, have captured all the sailors, now unconscious from the fruit, and are returning to their fortress with them, and it’s up to Conan to save them.
I can’t repeat enough how much Conan the Adventurer impacted my life. It took a teenager with absolutely no interest in reading and turned them into a voracious reader, one who couldn’t get enough after reading this book. There was something magical about this book from the cover art by Frazetta to the amazing sword and sorcery stories by Robert E. Howard. Much thanks has to go out to L. Sprague de Camp, without whose work both editing and digging into Howard’s papers to find unpublished stories and fragments, this collection of books might never have come to fruition. Without this collection, its easy to think that Howard and Conan might have just slipped into the vast bottomless pit of forgotten pulps stories.
Next up, the sixth book in the series, Conan the Buccaneer, which despite having a great Frazetta cover, has absolutely nothing written by Howard.
Conan the Wanderer is book 4 in the Lancer/Ace series of Robert E. Howard’s Conan published back in the late 60s and 70s. It is a collection of four stories edited by L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter. This was one of the non-Frank Frazetta covers and was illustrated by John Duillo.
As I’ve stated in the blog posts for the previous books in this series, these are Conan’s stories as published in chronological order, not as they were written and published by Robert E. Howard, who had a tendency to jump around the Cimmerian’s life and write stories out of sequence. But L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter put the stories in order according to a chronological timeline as proposed by P. Schuyler Miller and Dr. John D. Clark, who had discussed it through letters with Howard. De Camp and Carter also wrote stories to fill the gaps in Conan’s life.
This was not one of my favorites in the series. Much of that, as explained in my review of Conan the Freebooter, has to do with the fact that Frank Frazetta did not do the cover. I guess, for me, I do just a book by its cover. The stories here aren’t bad. For example, “Shadows in Zamboula” is a strong Howard effort and “The Flame Knife” is a rousing rewrite of a Howard Oriental tale to suit the Conan chronology. But I was fifteen at the time, reading Howard, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Philip Jose Farmer, Michael Moorcock, John Jakes, Fritz Leiber, John Silverberg, John Brunner, and many other wonderful writers of fantasy and sci-fi, and in the over scheme of things, this particular anthology just sort of fell short of the others.
Reading it again, however, I enjoyed it now much more than I did then.
Conan, as the preface to the first story states, “is about 31-years old at this time and at the height of his physical powers.” Let’s get into it, shall we?
Conan the Wanderer (1968) by Robert E. Howard, L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter
Contents
“Introduction” (L. Sprague de Camp)
“Black Tears” (L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter)
“Shadows in Zamboula” (Robert E. Howard)
“The Devil in Iron” (Robert E. Howard)
“The Flame Knife” (Robert E. Howard and L. Sprague de Camp)
Introduction. As always, de Camp starts things off with a little essay on Howard and Conan.
Black Tears. A pastiche written by de Camp and Carter. First published here. Later reprinted in The Conan Chronicles 2 (1990) by Orbit Books.
Conan and his band of Zuagirs are chasing Verdanes, the man who betrayed them to the Turanian army but managed to turn around the surprise and slaughter the Turanians, across the desert. His men ask Conan to stop the pursuit because up ahead is the cursed Land of Ghosts. Conan won’t be put off and his men desert him in the middle of the night leaving not enough water to return, so he decides to continue on.
Conan reaches the mythical city of Akhlat the Accursed and is caught and dragged into the city, where they cleanse his wounds and heal him. Conan is brought before Enosh, who explains that his people are held prisoner of a demoness, but there is a prophesy that the city will be liberated and Conan is that liberator.
Meanwhile, Verdanes, also captured by the city dwellers, has been thrown into a room with several realistic looking statues. Statues that cry and moan. He sees a mummy on a throne with a bejeweled mask. His greed gets the best of him and he grabs the mask, but the mummy is alive and awakened, and Verdanes begins to feel himself turn to stone.
Conan decides to help Enosh and enters the hall that Verdanes had entered. Will Conan survive the now youthful gorgon? You’ll have to read for yourself. If you can find a copy. It’s not a bad story despite not being written by Howard, but then, I’m a fan of both de Camp and Carter.
Shadows in Zamboula. Originally published in Weird Tales in 1935 as “The Man-Eaters of Zamboula.” Republished as “Shadows of Zamboula” in Conan the Barbarian (Gnome Press, 1954), The Conan Chronicles Volume 1: The People of the Black Circle (Gollancz, 2000), and in Conan of Cimmeria: Volume Three (1935-1936) (Del Rey, 2005) under its original title, “The Man-Eaters of Zamboula.”
Conan is warned by an old beggar to not return to the inn he has paid for a night’s lodging at, but Conan goes to the inn anyway and finds out the awful truth of being a lodger at the inn run by Aram Baksh. I don’t need to go into too much detail. It’s a Howard original and the original title gives away some of the storyline. Go read it.
The Devil in Iron. First published in Weird Tales in 1934. Republished in Conan the Barbarian (Gnome Press, 1954), The Conan Chronicles Volume 1: The People of the Black Circle (Gollancz, 2000) and Conan of Cimmeria: Volume One (1932-1933) (Del Rey, 2003).
When I was reading this story I thought it was a pastiche by de Camp and Carter because it seemed to borrow heavily from another Conan story, “Iron Shadows of the Moon” that appeared in Conan the Freebooter. Turns out, it actually is a Howard story. It’s not badly written, but as I said, it seemed to have a lot of elements from the previous story, including taking place on an island in the Vilayet Sea, the supernatural elements, and the similarity in the names of the girls, both who have escaped their captors to be protected by Conan, Octavia in this story and Olivia in “Iron Shadows.”
The Flame Knife. Revised by de Camp from an unpublished Oriental Howard tale featuring Francis X. Gordon titled, ‘Three-Bladed Doom.” It was published as a Conan story in Tales of Conan (Gnome Press, 1955).
It’s a rousing adventure tale where raiders kidnap Conan’s then flame, Nanaia, and Conan pursues them into their hidden city. It is filled with lots of military action as Conan’s men clashed against two other factions and runs into his old enemy, Olgerd Vladislav, who had freed him from the cross back in the story “A Witch is Born.”
Next up, Conan the Adventurer, which is the fifth book in the series, but was actually the first book published, and also the first of the series I read.
Andrew Jefferson Offutt (August 16, 1934 to April 30, 2013)
Andrew J Offutt passed away yesterday, April 30, 2013, and sadly, his death seems to have gone relatively unnoticed.
Outside of Wikipedia adding his date of death and a small obit on the Locus website, if you do a search you’ll get very few indications that he passed. In fact, a search for “Andrew J Offutt obit” brings up another “Andy” Offutt, no relation, who passed away April 9th.
Which makes me sad. Maybe he wasn’t among Fiction’s Giants, maybe he didn’t have the name recognition of a Ray Bradbury, but Offutt had as much influence upon my life, both as a reader and a writer, as many other more heralded authors did.
Offutt was an author and editor in the science fiction and fantasy genres. He began his writing career winning a young writers or college writers writing contest in 1954 (I read this somewhere but can’t just now verify this), and the story”And Gone Tomorrow” was published in “If” magazine. Despite that, he didnt make his first professional sale with the short story “Blacksword,” until 1959 to Galaxy magazine. His first novel under his own name (he had at least two pseudonyms, J X Williams and John Cleve), “Evil is Live Spelled Backwards” was published in 1970.
He became a major player in the sword and sorcery genre shortly thereafter, which is when he came to my attention. In the 1970s, I devoured sword and sorcery. Anything by or related to Robert E Howard and his creations interested me, along with anything similar to Edgar Rice Burroughs and his sword and planet adventures.
That’s about when AJO arrived. I don’t believe he ever created a Conan-like barbarian as many of his peers did (e.g. Lin Carter’s Thongar, John Jakes’ Brak), but he was still very involved in writing pastiches of REH’a Cormac Mac Art and Conan. He also wrote what I thought was a memorable erotic parody of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom series with “Ardor on Aros.” A novel I have been trying to find to replace my now time-lost copy.
But his greatest contribution might have been as editor for a top notch sword and sorcery anthology series, “Swords Against Darkness.” It consisted of five volumes of which I currently own the first two.
Seems I have a lot of eBay searching to do to restock my paltry collection of AJO paperbacks that I once owned but sadly today do not.
Offutt’s writing came out at a time when I was becoming an avid reader and an awkward writer. He impacted my formation as a writer within the fantasy genre positively. I owe him a debt of gratitude.
I remember arguing with a friend of mine about “The Scorpion King” with The Rock and its departure from factual realities (actually, she reminded me of it when I posted a rant on GetGlue about “The 13th Warrior”). My friend loves ancient Egypt, is fairly knowledgable on the subject, and has written at least one unpublished novel with that period as the backdrop. and she hated how Scorpion King took so many liberties with, and made so many errors about, that historical period. (In fact, we just had another discussion about it in the comment section of my previous blog post.)
Me, I just thought it was a fun movie, a great action vehicle for The Rock (with the hope that he’d maybe star in a Conan vehicle that would automatically be superior to Ahnold’s), plis it had a semi-nude Kelly Hu, so I didn’t understand her anger against it.
So she was quick to point out that I was being somewhat hypocritical when, as a fan of Vikings and their culture (not the purple kind from Minnesota. For one thing, those horned helmets did not exist!), I myself was ranting about “The 13th Warrior” and all its errors and inconsistencies with real Viking culture.
So I had to admit, begrudgingly, that I can see where she was coming from. (And enough time has passed that the bloom has gone off The Scorpion King and it doesn’t hold up to repeated viewings.)
So I fully admit that if you are critical of Historical inaccuracies in one instance, then you should care about it in all instances, even if it isn’t a period you’re knowledgable in. Because, essentially, Hollywood is lying to you and laughing about it as they count their money.
So we should hold their feet to the fire over accuracy in every instance. Let’s be mad as hell and not want to take it any more. (I’m not exactly sure where alternative histories fit in here, nor do I have an argument ready for that discussion. So lets just move on, shall we?)
I’ve been interested in Vikings for a while, having done quite a bit of research for a trunk novel and several unpublished stories about that era. And to be honest, I’ve loved Norse mythology since childhood, resenting how school taught Greco-Roman mythology, but snubbed every other pantheon. And lately, I’ve been immersing myself in researching swords. So that gives you an idea of my mindset and interests.
So, I thought it would be fun to watch “The 13th Warrior,” having become somewhat disappointed with the current “Vikings” program on the History Channel.
Well, it wasn’t fun. I couldn’t shut down Critical Me. And instead of enjoyment, I found myself getting angry. And anger, of course, inspires blogposts. Lucky you.
“The 13th Warrior,” if you didnt know, is based on the Michael Crichton novel, “Eaters of the Dead.” A novel that has been on my To Be Read pile for years, but keeps getting bumped by other things. It’s a historical piece that is a departure for Crichton, who is best know for his science fiction thrillers. “The 13th Warrior” was released in 1999 and current has a critic’s rating of 33% on Rotten Tomatoes.
The movie begins with some Middle Eastern Mulims, possibly near Bagdad, circa 922 AD. Antonio Banderas is a court poet who, through various misadventures, becomes involved with a band of Vikings and a lot of random violence as the Vikings return home to defend their homes from a bloodthirsty (and flesh-eating) band of invaders.
I began to notice flaws and inconsistencies almost from the very beginning. The first is Banderas is discovered with a “romantic interest” with a noble’s wife. Now why they didn’t just cut off his head or hands or penis, I have no idea. Oh, yes I do. Because then there wouldn’t have been a movie! So instead of death or dismemberment, he is exiled to be an “ambassador” to the northern barbarians.
Something else, when the Middle Eastern folk see the Viking ship they ride away in fear. Why? I thought the Vikings were trading with the Middle East. I think it was a source for some of the high quality steel that was used in the Ulthbert swords, for example, so why would they also be raping, pillaging, and plundering there? That would put off anyone they’d want to do business with, wouldn’t it? On this point I don’t know the history, so I’ll have to do some research on what the Vikings were doing in the Middle East in 900ad.
There are several flaws in this movie that I noticed before I finally gave up and watched something else.
Viking swords are one-handers. They held the sword in one hand and a buckler (shield) or an ax in the other. Now, if the sword was so blamed heavy that Antonio Banderas couldn’t use it, it would have been too heavy for a Viking to use. Generally, their swords weighed around 3 pounds, give or take several ounces.
One of the Vikings carries his sword on his back, so long it is. There is no evidence such swords ever existed among the Vikings. In fact, there is no evidence of a back scabbard ever used in Europe, the near East, or India. They are a modern invention and are inaccurate to use in this movie as well as “Braveheart.” Besides, you’d need gorilla arms to withdraw a sword from a back scabbard that had a blade longer than 20 inches.
Then Antonio found a grinding wheel and ground the hell out of the sword to make it weigh less so he could use it. Forget for a moment that grinding the hell out of steel causes it to heat, which changes the temper of the blade, making it more fragile and brittle. Not to mention the whole geometry and balance would be way off. I mean, Banderas’ character was a poet for Crom’s sake, not a smithy. But in the meantime, he has invented a curved blade. Something that didn’t exist in the Middle East at the time. Curved scimitars came centuries later.
And one of the Vikings was wearing Spanish Conquistador-like armor which also didn’t exist then and wouldn’t for another couple hundred years. Vikings used chain mail around 900 AD, when this was supposed to take place.
And I’ll forget for a moment that quality swords were expensive and thus rare among the Vikings. For instance, unread that of 100 Viking burials they found in Iceland that included a weapon, only 16 were swords.
So I’ll have to rewatch “The 13th Warrior” and pay closer attention to see if all 12 Vikings are chieftains or at least very prominent warriors. Otherwise, its very coincidental that the majority would have swords.
And speaking of valuable, Vikings held their swords in very high regard because a quality sword could mean life or death. They often valued them above their family. So for one of them to just give Banderas one goes against everything I’ve read of their culture.
So I flipped the movie off and watched something on The Military Channel about the Battle of Marathon and immediately noticed that some of the swords the Greeks were using were VIKING-era swords! Several had 5-lobed pommels. Made me wonder if they were leftover from some previous historical program about Vikings or if some sword manufacturer donated them just so they’d get some free advertising.
And I’m not even going to start a rant on the current movie sword fighting technique (made popular in Highlander) where they block blows using the EDGE of the sword! Gah. Edge to edge blows! Stop it!
Maybe I should just stick with reading. It’s less stressful.
And speaking of swords, mine should be arriving today. My first real, battle-ready sword. I’m so excited! Pictures, of course, will be posted along with a mini-review (more of a list of impressions from a novice than an actual review).
Thulsa Doom: Yes! You know what it is, don’t you boy? Shall I tell you? It’s the least I can do. Steel isn’t strong, boy, flesh is stronger! Look around you. There, on the rocks; a beautiful girl. Come to me, my child…
[coaxes the girl to jump to her death
Thulsa Doom: That is strength, boy! That is power! What is steel compared to the hand that wields it? Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart, I gave you this! Such a waste. Contemplate this on the tree of woe. Crucify him!
That, of course, is from the godawful movie, “Conan the Barbarian” (1982) starring Ahnold.
I only bring it up because in the scene in the crypt where Conan finds the Atlantean sword, it merely has some sort of crust on it that Conan easily smashes off.
But stop and think about that for a moment. If you took a piece of steel, and left it sitting out for a millennia, what would happen to the metal? It would RUST, of course. Unless it was stainless steel, in which case it would make for a lousy sword. But I doubt very much they even knew how to make stainless steel back then. It was still considered an art to create quality steel of any sort.
There was no rust on the blade. Now, maybe when they entombed that ancient Atlantean king, they were nice and protected his sword for all eternity by coating the blade with some sort of prehistoric petroleum jelly or possibly bee’s wax or Carnauba wax, which might have protected it and inhibited rust, thereby causing that crust that Conan had to smash off.
Maybe, but I doubt it, only because I won’t give that movie, or anyone associated with it, any credit for intelligence.
And I only bring it up because it’s been bothering me for 31 years!
Now I’m over it.
At least that portion of it.
And yes, I do obsess about that movie. Only because I was a huge Conan and Robert E. Howard fan at the time of it’s release. I looked forward to that movie more than any movie before or since. I couldn’t wait to see Conan on the big screen. He was a great literary character. Marvel was doing an excellent job portraying him in the comics. Conan was a natural for the big screen. What could go wrong?
Everything. That’s what. My eager anticipation of the movie was matched only by my utter disappointment in the final product.
I blame that movie for killing the whole sword and sorcery genre.
Yes, I’m bitter. And ranting about it is very cathartic.
Thanks for letting me vent.
And I promise, I’ll be posting my thoughts on the third Lancer/Ace Conan, Conan the Freebooter soon.
Growing up, I don’t know about you, but I always felt like I didn’t belong. Not in the “I have no friends, I’m an outsider, woe is me” kind of way, but in the honest to goodness, “I think I belong in a different time period” kind of way.
Some people believe these feelings of belonging to a different time are merely remembrances of past lives, like some people think nostalgically about their youth, you’re experiencing memories of having lived somewhere in another time and another place. Whatever. I don’t have the space or inclination to discuss that here and now.
My feelings arose from reading about Conan the barbarian and other sword and sorcery tales. I wished that I had lived in those times. How exciting. How deadly. As the proverbial 98-pound weakling, I’d have lasted all of ten seconds then. Just long enough to insult someone and then be disemboweled before I could withdraw my sword.
So let’s blame those feelings on a poor sense of self and my undiagnosed and untreated ADHD, shall we?
But Even today I think about living in the past, The Migration Period where barbarians descended upon Rome. Or the Viking days of pillaging and plundering. Of knights and chivalry. Or of the Renaisance and a rapier at your side.
I’d still probably live all of 10 seconds, but it would be a glorious 10 seconds. A lifetime of living by the sword, defending your honor and manhood, dueling for pride and country — in 10 seconds.
I’m not interested in guns, but as I’ve said, I’ve had a lifelong obsession with swords. I’ve had guns in my hands and honestly, they just don’t do anything for me. But a sword in the hand quickens the pulse, excites the imagination. Swords were manly, you had to face your opponent, eye to eye, knowing that the only thing standing between you and death was that 3 foot piece of steel and your ability to wield it.
Any punk can pull a trigger. Shooting someone doesn’t make you a man. That’s because, as the saying goes, you have no skin in the game. Most shootings happen from a distance as in drive-bys. Or the other person is unarmed. Where’s the honor in that? There is none. We lost the concept of honor with the gun.
But with a sword, there were rules, rules of honor, rules of etiquette, rules of fair play, and skin in the game. You knew it wasn’t just a game, you knew the odds were equal and you were just as likely to be injured as your opponent was. There were no drive-by sword deaths. You didn’t have punks with swords stabbing people to make themselves seem like men. And there certainly were no mass murders at the hands of a single unbalanced sword-weilding individual.
I admit I have a romanticized notion of what life with a sword was like. Much of it brought on by the books I’ve read and Hollywood’s notion of what sword fighting was like. And yes, I know that much of the Errol Flynn-styled dueling is as far from real sword fighting as you can get.
But still, I have my dreams of those times, of what it must have been like, and of how I’d have fared.
So let us, for a moment, return to those days. I’d like to like to think they had a chain of armoury stores called Swords and Roebuck, and you could go in and handle all their wares, from deadly side swords and curved sabers, to straight double-edged Viking swords and massive two-handed Claymores, to beautiful swept-hilt or cup-hilt rapiers with needle sharp blades. And you’d be able to try on different leather frogs and other scabbard attachments, all the while checking yourself out in the three-way mirrors. You’d be like, “You talking to me? Are you talking to me?” then you’d whip out your blade and thrust toward the mirror with a “Yeah, I look cool” smile on your face.
You’d go up to the register. “I’ll take these.” And the cashier would ask, “You want this bagged?” And you’d say, “No, I’ll wear them out.” And she’d say, “Cash or charge?” And you’d whip out your Renaissance Express and put everything on.
Then you’d step outside, dressed to the nines in all your fancy, creaking fresh leather accoutrements, a shiny new sword at your side that you withdraw and slash it back and forth a few times, smiling as it makes the vwoot! sound slicing through the air. Then, you insult the first likely person, and he runs you through before you can even defend yourself.
When last we visited our hero, he was impatiently waiting for his latest eBay purchase to arrive. He had believed it was going to be nothing more than another SLO, good for nothing more than hanging on a wall. Let’s join our story, already in progress.
Yes, so if you recall from my USPS post “The saga of the wayward package,” this final sword took two weeks to arrive from the time I actually won the bid and paid for it. In eBay time, two weeks seems like an eternity, at least from my experience (and it doesn’t help to have ADHD). Most purchases I’ve won arrive within a week.
And this one was particularly frustrating because it seemed the Post Office was conspiring against me.
Finally, it did arrive and I tore open the package with reserved zeal. I was excited, but guarded. I knew not to get my hopes up that I had won an actual real antique US Cavalry sword.
So when I pulled the sabre out I was pleasantly surprised. It had heft. It was solid. It was long. The blade alone was longer than all my other wall hangers (excluding the foils). It wasn’t sharpened and I can’t tell the difference between stainless and carbon steel, but this blade had some rust spots and corrosion.
The hilt was nice and tight. The knuckle-bow (hand guard) and the backstrap (a metal piece running the length of the grip) were solid brass and the grip itself is made of leather (or a really nice imitation of it) wrapped in brass wire.
The entire sword seems of good quality to my amateurish, know-nothing eye. But seems is a dangerous thing if you’re swinging a large sharp metal blade around (ok, this isn’t sharp but it does have a point).
The sword had a small brass nut in the pommel, holding it all together. So I unscrewed it and took the sword apart. Again, to my untrained eye, the tang seems solid. It isn’t a welded on rat tail.
So maybe I lucked out and actually bought a real sword for cheap? If so, then this will become my project sword. I’ll clean up the blade, attempt to sharpen it, and maybe by the time nice weather arrives, I can go out and do some test cutting. (First, I’ll have to build a cutting stand.)
Yes, I’m not going to just assume anything. I’ve got more research to do. Take more pictures and see if someone with more knowledge can tell me something about it. I have looked online and there are some carbon steel sabers for sale for around $50. That seems awfully cheap for a “battle ready” sword considering most other sword styles of that quality go for $100 to $300. Are sabers an exception? Maybe they aren’t as popular among collectors as Europeon medieval swords or Japanese katanas and that reflects in the price.
I don’t know. And I’ll check it out before I do anything silly.
But in the meantime, I’m now excited to own what is the closest thing I have to a real sword.
I can’t wait for my tax refund to arrive because I have my eye on a few battle ready swords from real quality manufacturers.
In our last episode, there I was, learning about swords and waiting for my final disappointment to arrive in the mail.
In the meantime, my oldest son, who also has an interest in bladed weapons, expressed an interest in a katana.
He is almost 18. He is mature and responsible. Ok, why not?
But this time, I’ll research it. I’ll read reviews. Compare prices. And buy an affordable, yet good quality katana — not an HSN disaster.
So after much research, I decided on a Musashi Wind Dragon. A very good sword for under $100.
When it arrived I was surprised by how a real sword feels. It has heft. It’s solid. It has good fit and finish. The blade is razor sharp and I’ve tried to explain to him it is not a toy. It’s a weapon. Act like its a loaded gun. Don’t just swing it around carelessly.
You probably think I’m being overly protective. “C’mon, Ed. It’s just a sword.”
Just a sword. True. But consider that swords were designed for one thing: to kill, to cut through flesh and bone with minimal effort. A properly sharpened sword is as dangerous as the butcher knife example I used before. It’ll cut through steaks like a hot knife through butter. And your leg or arm or any other part of you that gets in the way. And we’re talking about a katana, that if you believe the legends, is so mystically sharp it’ll cut you just looking at it. So allow me to present a video of what can happen if you don’t respect the sword. It’s somewhat graphic and the anticipation of waiting for her to injure herself is almost painful in itself.
See? So what did she do wrong? She didn’t respect the sword. She was waving it around like it was a harmless stick. But a sword isn’t a stick. If you aren’t careful, mishandling a sword could prove dangerous as the girl in the video found out. There was very little force behind that blow and it laid open her ankle. So consider that even just dropping a sword, you could lose a toe or, if it hits your leg just right, it could severe the femoral artery and you’ll be dead before help arrives.
So observe safety at all times. Swords are not toys. That cannot be emphasized enough. Treat them with the idea they can hurt you. You wouldn’t wave a loaded gun around in a crowded room, don’t wave a sword around.
Always have someone with you. That way, while you’re screaming and bleeding, they can calmly call 9-1-1.
Never handle a sword when tired or under the influence of alcohol.
Be aware of your surroundings. If you are going to test swing it in the yard, or do some cutting, make sure no pets, people, or anything else is in the vicinity.
Have a sure, dry grip. You don’t want the sword flying out of your hand into the neighbors yard. (I have read the advice of tying the sword to your wrist with a cord to prevent it from flying away like you would a Wii controller, but to me having a sword swinging around on the end of a rope at arm’s length seems pretty dangerous, too.)
Plan your swing. Don’t just wave it wildly about. Don’t just take a haphazard swipe at that water bottle. Plan it all out, visualize it. Take slow test swings, like you were lining up a putt in golf, from where you’ll start the swing to where you’ll end up. Hopefully, not in your leg.
Always have control of the sword. This goes with planning your swing. Make sure of where your start point and end point will be, but also be cognizant of the blade’s entire trajectory and that it’s always solidly in your control.
In other words, don’t let its momentum control you like some baseball players allow the bat’s centrifugal force determine where it ends up — often in the catchers head. A sword won’t just leave a bruise, it’ll slice you open.
Here’s a good safety video put out by Sword Buyers Guide.
So, there you have it. Safety first.
And my son has a real sword before I do. How fair is that?
But finally, after almost 2 weeks of waiting (I felt like a kid sending off boxtops to fabled Battle Creek, Michigan for some eagerly awaited toy), the final sword that I had purchased before knowing what I was doing, came.
And when it came, I was expecting another scale-model replica disappointment. When I extracted it from the box, I was pleasantly surprised to find …
… that the story is continued in the next segment.
Oh, right. I was voraciously reading about swords, after the fact. So I’d made my purchases and then realized how stupid that was.
I already own two scale-model replica swords, and now I was thinking I just ordered more off of eBay.
Keep in mind, wall-hangers still look nice, they’re inexpensive to own, they require little maintenance (stainless doesn’t rust and doesn’t require oiling), and visitors will probably be just as impressed seeing them if they have little knowledge of swords also.
However, if you ever want to take them down and pretend to be Sir Galahad, or one of the Three Musketeers, or maybe even Conan, you have to be aware that they could become a dangerous flying object if they aren’t of good quality.
I mentioned the tang in my last post and showed a video of a katana attacking a HSN salesman.
So, the things I’ve learned so far: a quality sword is made of carbon steel and it has a full tang not a welded on metal rod (although I also learned that full tang is incorrect unless the tang is actually sandwiched between two handle pieces so you can see the metal edge, like on most kitchen knives)..
And real swords, quality swords, often called “battle ready” cost money. If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is. If someone is selling something on eBay and they can’t answer even the most basic questions on it (who is the manufacturer, what it it made of, does it have a full tang, is it battle ready) chances are they’re selling a wall-hanger. Odds are very slim that you’ve lucked onto that rare find of a genuine antique offered by a naive seller. Things like that don’t happen. And since quality swords cost a few hundred dollars, don’t think that anyone is selling their collection for pennies on eBay. You might find a sword made by a quality manufacturer, but expect to pay for it.
So after learning more about swords, my first pre-knowledge purchase rolled in. I had picked up what had been described as Vintage Colada del Cid. Well, it was another scale-replica with a dulled blade of only 22 inches. Sure, it fits right in with the other two and really, it is kind of cool with the swept hilt (which is funny because swept hilts didn’t come into vogue until 4 or 500 years after El Cid died), but its still pretty much a wall-hanger. I’m not even sure how safe it is to swing.
Still, I’m polishing it up and it is still fun to ghost fence with. But I was disappointed it wasn’t a real sword.
So I waited for my next purchase. When it arrived I was fairly happy. These I knew weren’t battle ready swords. They were three “dueling” swords as eBay called them. But I could tell from the description they were old fencing foils with blunted ends. One is in pretty sad shape with the handle material unwrapping, but the other two look pretty nice with decorated cup hilts and a good sized foil blade. If I get some masks, maybe we can play in the back yard with them.
So that left one more sword. By now I knew not to expect much. I hadn’t paid much. All three purchases came to about $70. But this one was a tease. This is the one I wrote about a few blog posts ago that took weeks to arrive.
So now I’ll tease you in turn and tell you about that next time.
Upon Reflection 