“Know, o prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars […] Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian; black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet.”
Proof that even purple prose can be good, when done right.
Hello again, readers! This time around, I’d like to talk about Robert E. Howard’s most famous creation: Conan the Cimmerian (NOT Conan the Barbarian, unlike the movie with Schwarzenegger). Howard was a prolific writer; in addition to Conan, he also created King Kull, Solomon Kane, Bran Mak Morn, and even more. But Conan was his flagship title, to the point that he would often rewrite stories that hadn’t been successful with editors or the public as Conan stories – and then those stories would sell. (It’s always sad when people pay more attention to the brand than the content.)
First of all, let’s give credit where credit is due: if Tolkien is the father of modern fantasy (that is, fantasy works of the 20th and 21st centuries), then Howard is the grandfather – or, more accurately, the father of a separate, older line, one whose children often intermingle with Tolkien’s own (Dungeons & Dragons, for instance, is a direct descendant of both lines, and D&D, in turn, influenced a whole slew of fantasy works). Tolkien is credited with the creation of High Fantasy, while Howard established most of the archetypes for Heroic Fantasy. Those are somewhat arbitrary distinctions (as they tend to be), but they’re still useful; however, they’re not my focus right now, so pardon me for not digressing any further (tempting though it is).
No, I’d like to discuss how, much like it happened with The Lord of the Rings, Howard’s admirers and imitators muddied the public’s perception of his creation, leading many to underestimate just how interesting Conan and his stories can be. Many think of him only as an ignorant brute clad only in a leather thong, but that’s not supported by Howard’s text; if anything, that comes from the paintings of Frank Frazetta and his own followers and imitators, or from movies like The Beastmaster, Ator the Invincible and The Warrior and the Sorceress, or games like Golden Axe and Rastan – all products of the “barbariansploitation” period in the eighties. So let’s first deconstruct this erroneous image of Conan before delving into what makes him such an interesting character, shall we?
(As an aside: fantasy is an interesting genre like that. Even as it often tries to distance itself from its seminal authors [notice how many people laud A Song of Ice and Fire just for not being a pseudo-Tolkienesque setting], it becomes ever more self-referential as it goes on, like a snake eating its own tail. On the other hand, I suppose this dichotomy isn’t so unusual in other genres – see how many modern works about vampires, to give only one example, deliberately distance themselves from folkloric or even Gothic vampires, only to repeat or reinvent pre-existing myths, even those created in the Modern Age. Enough of this digression, though!)
Let’s start with the aesthetics: Conan is no thong-clad savage. As I said right up above, that was created by Frazetta and taken up by many, many others, to the point that it’s become synonymous with the term “barbarian warrior”. In truth, Conan always wore the best armour he could; when he didn’t, it was because of practical reasons, like when he needed to sneak around (as he often did, since in his early adventures he “worked” mostly as a thief and treasure-hunter).
He was also no mindless warrior. It’s true that he was no erudite and often employed violence, but he just as often relied on cunning, wits and a panther-like grace. Whenever he was ignorant of something, it was ascribed to his being an outsider – he was always a foreigner to wherever his latest adventure was taking place (none of Howard’s stories take place in Conan’s native Cimmeria), and often a criminal (thief, treasure hunter, pirate or mercenary), too.
Now let’s move on to the crux of this article: defining Conan for what he is, instead of what he isn’t. And Conan is a power fantasy – but NOT an adolescent power fantasy, unlike so many of the follow-up acts.
Again, it’s easy to see why many would see him as such: he’s handsome and strong, he doesn’t take crap from anybody, and he almost always has beautiful women practically throwing themselves at him. Those traits apparently struck a chord with many people, since they’re the ones most often repeated in Conan’s pastiches (even the best ones). However, to focus solely on that would be a disservice to the character and the stories.
One reason for this misconception, I think, is that Conan often acted on instinct, instead of reasoned thought; that, and his life philosophy can basically be summed up as “eat, drink, fight, fuck and be merry” (“Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of white arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content. Let teachers and philosophers brood over questions of reality and illusion. I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.” From Queen of the Black Coast). But we shouldn’t ignore the way he explains said philosophy: even considering the purple prose prevalent in the stories, Conan is far more eloquent than everyone else around him, and he speaks with much more feeling. The others might be illusions, and Conan may be an illusion just as well, but he’s less illusory – more real – than all others, whether they’re friends, enemies or even lovers.
It’s also important to note the world Conan lives in. It’s often been said that in Howard’s stories, civilization is seen as bad and savagery is equated with nobility; that is true, but it’s only a part of the truth. Civilized men (and, by extension, civilization) are often criticized (for instance, take a look at this passage from The Tower of the Elephant: “He […] was too new to civilization to understand its discourtesies. Civilized men are more discourteous than savages because they know they can be impolite without having their skulls split, as a general thing.” Bonus points for Twilight haters: immediately after that, Howard uses “chagrined” correctly), but only when they behave in a manner that deserves such criticism (for instance, in the above passage, the other thieves in the tavern are mocking Conan for no good reason other than they find it funny; and in one of King Kull’s stories, an unfinished work which would later be titled Riders Beyond the Sunrise, the narration says something to the effect of “Kull wasn’t civilized enough to kill a messenger for bringing bad news”).
“But Spoony”, you might ask, “why do you bring up Kull when you’re talking about Conan?” Well, You, because those themes aren’t restricted to a single character, they’re explored throughout Howard’s body of works. In fact, what I’m really discussing is the archetype of the barbarian warrior; I chose to focus on Conan for being arguably the original model for said archetype and also its most famous representative, but we shouldn’t forget all other influences that fed into it, especially when they’re from the same creator.
Now, let’s go back to talking about Conan. One thing many casual fans don’t realize is that, while most of Howard’s stories have Conan as a wandering thief, pirate or sellsword, there are several with Conan as the King of Aquilonia. In fact, the very first Conan story, The Phoenix on the Sword (which was actually the Kull story By This Axe I Rule! reworked – see why we can’t focus solely on Conan?), starts out with some disgruntled noblemen trying to assassinate King Conan. Those are the stories which best showcase how civilization isn’t automatically something to be despised in Howard’s work. For instance, in The Phoenix on the Sword itself, even as people turn their support away from Conan and romanticize the reign of the tyrant before him (“When I overthrew Numedides, then I was the Liberator – now they spit at my shadow. […] Now in Mitra’s temple there come to burn incense to Numedides’ memory, men whom his hangmen maimed and blinded, men whose sons died in his dungeons, whose wives and daughters were dragged into his seraglio. The fickle fools!”) and Conan feels nostalgic for simpler times (“In the old free days all I wanted was a sharp sword and a straight path to my enemies. Now no paths are straight and my sword is useless”), the King also acknowledges there are things – products of civilization – greater than himself (“No, Prospero, he’s beyond my reach. A great poet is greater than any king. His songs are mightier than my scepter; for he has near ripped the heart from my breast when he chose to sing for me. I shall die and be forgotten, but Rinaldo’s songs will live forever”). Nor is barbarism something to be automatically taken as superior: in one of the fragments about Kull which would later be named Exile of Atlantis, the reason Kull is exiled is because he defies the traditions of his tribe and offers a mercy killing to a woman who was about to be burned at the stake for the sole crime of marrying a man who belonged to an enemy people of the Atlanteans.
It is not barbarism itself that Howard’s work lauds, nor civilization itself it condemns; rather, his writings glorify strength in all its myriad forms, strength which rises above societal norms and changes the world. See, for instance, how Solomon Kane (who was a barbarian warrior at heart, although he never acknowledges that) is described in Moon of Skulls: “A hunger in his soul drove him on and on, an urge to right all wrongs, protect all weaker things, avenge all crimes against right and justice. Wayward and restless as the wind, he was consistent in only one respect — he was true to his ideals of justice and right.” Or this speech from Conan in The Scarlet Citadel:
“I am a barbarian, so I shall sell my kingdom and its people for life and your filthy gold? Ha! How did you come to your crown, you and that black-faced pig beside you? Your fathers did the fighting and the suffering, and handed their crowns to you on golden platters. What you inherited without lifting a finger – except to poison a few brothers – I fought for. You sit on satin and guzzle wine the people sweat for, and talk of divine rights of sovereignty – bah! I climbed out of the abyss of naked barbarism to the throne and in that climb I spilt my blood as freely as I spilt that of others. If either of us has the right to rule men, by Crom, it is I! How have you proved yourselves my superiors? I found Aquilonia in the grip of a pig like you – one who traced his genealogy for a thousand years. The land was torn with the wars of the barons, and the people cried out under oppression and taxation. Today no Aquilonian noble dares maltreat the humblest of my subjects, and the taxes of the people are lighter than anywhere else in the world. What of you? Your brother, Amalrus, holds the eastern half of your kingdom, and defies you. And you, Strabonus, your soldiers are even now besieging castles of a dozen or more rebellious barons. The people of both your kingdoms are crushed into the earth by tyrannous taxes and levies. And you would loot mine – ha!”
What Conan is saying is unmistakable: he has the right to rule not because he was chosen by the people, but because he was the strongest (although we know from other stories that Conan’s rise to power was supported by Aquilonia itself). But his strength isn’t employed only for his own gain; it’s also used to “protect all weaker things” and “right all wrongs”. Conan wasn’t a good man by our modern standards, but he was always “true to his ideals of justice and right” even when they clashed with the world around him. In this way, Conan is closer to a Nietzschean Übermensch than a mere adolescent power fantasy. And while modern society rightfully takes a dim view of rule based on strength rather than on law, let’s remember that in the real world, Right often doesn’t make Might; rather, both exist independently, and for Justice and Law to be enforced, they must act in unison, instead of in opposition.
So why, then, did the barbarian warrior archetype stray so far from its roots? Can it be attributed only to how pop culture always seems to take only the most superficial aspects of a concept and endlessly play them up (for instance, see how often people think all it takes to create another Sam Spade is to put the character in a trench coat and a fedora)? Honestly, I don’t know. It’s entirely possible the fault lies within Howard’s writing as well: he had excellent moments and wrote several great stories, but various others are unfinished, or aren’t truly memorable. Besides, a true Übermensch must rise above their culture, and the racial prejudices and casual sexism present in his writing are both too strong (in fact, they’re even more uncomfortable, coming as they do from characters who are otherwise quite admirable).
In the end, it’s useless to cry over unfulfilled possibilities. It’s true that Conan could have been so much more, but what he already is, is very good. The barbarian warrior archetype seems to have been relegated mostly to pastiches these days; I can’t tell you whether that will change at some point, but if it does, I hope all its potential is fully realized.
Thanks for reading! Until next time!
Hater incoming:
Conan is the biggest marysue ever and I hate him and everything he stands for. Sure he’s been flanderized to hell due to Frazetta and copycats, but the basic concept itself is still a goddamn juvenile power fantasy who somehow does no wrong despite being a murderhobo because he has a “big heart”. The entire setting exists to constantly fellate him, stories bend over themselves so hard they become torus fractals just so Conan can look cool and awesome.
He becomes less of a dickhead once he becomes king, but at heart he’s still the same marysue except he’s now rocking the grizzled grey haired badass look and has bonus “responsibility” so he’s even more awsom.
The stereotypical stuff isn’t superficial, they’re the main themes Howard’s got going: man is an inherently savage beast no better than any animal, civilization is just weakness and corruption that sullies the pure natural barbarism, might makes right, testesterone is the best thing evar, trying to build or create things is for losers and real men can and should take it from those sissies. The flanderized barbarian “heroes” that came after him is just exaggerating what’s already there, Conan does not get a free pass just because his copycats did worse.
Which is a fucking shame because Howard is an awesome writer and a phenomenal world builder, who kept wasting his talent on Manliest Men of Mannington. Hyboria is the coolest fantasy setting ever and utterly wasted on Conan’s shenanigans.
(also übermensch is still a shit, Nietzsche was just smart enough to wrap it in a layer of pretentiousness thick enough to make it appear somewhat palatable)
Well, it’s a good thing you said you were a hater, I might not have realized it myself. :-P
Seriously, though, I have to disagree with nearly everything you just said. It’s perfectly natural if the very concept of the barbarian warrior is distasteful to you – I’d say that’s actually to be expected -, but “man is an inherently savage beast no better than any animal”? “Civilization is just weakness and corruption that sullies the pure natural barbarism”? None of that is supported even by the passages I quoted, much less by others I haven’t!
As for Might Makes Right… Yes, that is a predominant theme in the stories. Sadly, it’s also a predominant theme in the real world. I mean, even T. H. White’s King Arthur couldn’t truly establish Right Makes Might in his Camelot, the most he could accomplish was channel Might into Right. :-) Mind you, as a citizen of a modern democracy, I don’t want that Might to rest solely on the shoulders of any individual, no matter how exceptional or well-intentioned; but when analyzing a work of art (as opposed to just enjoying it), I don’t think we should let our own ideologies colour that analysis as much as you’re doing here.
It’s true that Conan is a tremendous Mary Sue, though. I don’t think the world bends around him as much as you claim, but the outcome of any story is rarely (if ever) in doubt: Conan will triumph, and he will nearly always get the girl. It can get quite repetitive if you’re reading the stories in quick succession, and it’s part of the reason why I think the character ultimately failed to rise above pop culture’s simplification. Of course, there are degrees to “Mary Sue-ism”. Conan isn’t only a cardboard cutout or a walking plot device, he’s an actual character (even if you find him distasteful). I think Howard did a better job with Solomon Kane, actually, regarding this “Mary Sue-ism”.
Funny you should say you actually like the setting. I think it’s the weakest part of Howard’s Conan stories, in general; he basically just took a real-life Ancient or Medieval culture and filed the serial numbers off. It does have some very cool features, but I’d chalk those up more to atmosphere than worldbuilding.
“(also übermensch is still a shit, Nietzsche was just smart enough to wrap it in a layer of pretentiousness thick enough to make it appear somewhat palatable)”
That’s an overly simplistic view of the concept. The idea behind the Übermensch is that the Individual should never be submissive to Society, for better or worse. It’s an appealing concept to many, and it’s been explored (even if in different terms) by several other writers and philosophers throughout the centuries.
I agree with guestest ever. I have not read these works, but from the passages and points you have chosen I don’t see why this is a power fantasy more intricate than any other. Good characters have convincing conflicts but most of what this article is about is how secretly smart he is.
At what point does an adolescent power fantasy become a mature power fantasy?
I think you guys are kind of mixing up different things in here.
Conan isn’t a conflicted or flawed character, that’s true. But internal conflict isn’t a requirement to being a good character.
Secondly, Conan isn’t a good man by most modern standards. He is a violent man in a violent world who lives by a creed of strength and his own honour (not society’s, but his own). That’s also not something that reflects on the character’s literary quality, only on the reader’s enjoyment of the stories.
Now, as for the turning point, I’d say that when the power fantasy is only about the insert character’s gratification, that’s an adolescent power fantasy; but when it’s also a commentary on society, it’s a more mature one. Conan isn’t content with living the high life – riding from one quest to the other, eating, drinking and fucking along the way -, he seizes power in a corrupt society and changes it for the better. (If I knew how to bold text in the comments, I’d bold the last one, because that’s really what needs to be stressed.)
You can’t argue that he does it only for his own ambitions, either; a man who just wanted gold and power wouldn’t have hesitated to execute Rinaldo, the slanderous poet, nor would he have cared about his people when others tried to buy his crown, only about his pride.
All in all, I’d say it’s a matter of what the stories focus on.
Stories focus on either what an awesome badass guy Conan is (proven by his ability to beat all the dudes and bang all the chicks) or how much nobler and purer he is than the civilized rabble that surround him (nobleness and purity proven by badassery). Or sometimes how evil and vile and horrible wizards generally are.
And that “proudest kingdom of the world” Aquilonia was stagnant and corrupt but got revitalized and made all better when he put his manly muscled butt on the throne shows how much barbaric savagery is better than the degenerate ways of civilization. Then Aquilonians put on their black hats and screw themselves up epically and whole country gets completely razed after Conan’s time, once the “civilized” men are back in control. That’s a torus fractal right there.
That’s also the “cycle of barbarism and civilization” Howard is in love with. His works insist civilization is fleeting and inherently corrupting and barbarism is the rightful natural state of man. Like every other empire Howard writes of, Aquilonia becomes comically evil without the guidance of a cool manly barbarian king (just like Acheron, Atlantis, Turan, Stygia, Hyperborea, Khitai… there isn’t a single powerful civilization that isn’t bugfuck crazy) and gets itself destroyed by barbarian hordes.
Howard also doesn’t understand evolution, but he’s too enthusiastically embracing it instead of just dismissing it in a bout of fanatical frenzy, which is a point in his favor.
…
I have a lot of distate for Howard’s themes and characters. If only he wasn’t such a goddamn prose master, I could just dismiss him :(
“Stories focus on either what an awesome badass guy Conan is or how much
nobler and purer he is than the civilized rabble that surround him.”
Some, yes, but not all. I think you’ve let your distaste for the character and what he represents cloud your reading.
Would it help you readjust your focus if I said Conan is an anti-hero (or possibly a classical hero) as opposed to a hero?
Hm. See, I don’t think he’s a sue because I don’t feel the stories focus much on how great Conan is.
I was reading a series of comic adaptions of Conan, and there was one story where Conan runs afoul of a sorcerer and his hot shapechanging sorcerer daughter who’s all I can’t hurt you because you’re super hot and I love you. In the afterword they were gushing about how proud they were that the people who read it thought it was an original and I was like dudes really? That was you writing Self-Insert/Hot Chick. Or possibly Conan/Genderbend Self-Insert fanfic, or some weird mix. That was the Conan people think of as Conan, but it’s not the Conan who shows up originally.
Conan, despite the fact he generally solves his problems with sudden violence and a lot of words comparing him to a cat, often ends the stories disturbed and no better off. There’s definitely some pontificating about noble vs savage, but I feel you’re missing how there’s also a solid OMG HUMAN HEADED IMMORTAL SNAKE MUMMY WTF WHY IS THIS MY LIFE aspect to them. He’s often just the vehicle being used to tell us about what if Ganesh was an elder thing alien imprisoned by a magic user, and to be totally over his head when faced with this sort of stuff.
“MG HUMAN HEADED IMMORTAL SNAKE MUMMY WTF WHY IS THIS MY LIFE”
You owe me a new monitor, on account of this one having Coke splattered on it. :-D
Maybe it’s more accurate to say it’s a different power fantasy than people remember it as, which is a dumb hulk sort of hing.
Well, like I say in the article, it IS a power fantasy – in the real world, you can’t change things just by virtue of being stronger and more virtuous (a relative concept in itself) than others -, it’s just not one of the “this self-insert protagonist IS SO AWESOME, you guys!” variety.
Dark Horse Conan is more relatable in many ways;
He has more of a sense of honor (two men are about to kill a teenage girl trying to steal food; he takes the men out and gives the girl money.) He also fails more; The Hyperborea Arc is pretty much “Conan fails.” He fails to save his friends, he fails to save the woman he loves….even killing the guy who caused it is denied him since the guy kills himself as part of some depraved custom. The only thing he DOES do is kill the guys who sold him and his friends out. In his time as a thief he gets too cocky, makes too many enemies, and looses all the loot he’s gained over the last few months.
Even in the stories he has weaknesses. In Devil in Iron he needs the blade to defeat Khostra Khel. In Phoenix on the sword he only survives because Epimitreus gave him a heads up and Thoth’s demon happened to kill most of the assassins, and as anyone in combat knows it’s FAR easier to kill one opponent in hand to hand than several at once. In Scarlet Citadel Pelias helps him escape the citadel’s horrors. In Queen Belit’s ghost saves him.
Even in the stories he has weaknesses.
I’d say it’s more that he suffers temporary setbacks, like any character would. Plus, one of the classic Mary Sue traits is how the plot and setting go to great lengths to help them. The spirit of a priest from an ancient age showing up to help would have fit the King Kull stories, since one of their main plots is that Kull is supposed to lead the human race against the remannts of the serpent men, but Epimetreus showing up to help Conan is mere plot convenience.
I have always loved the Conan stories. Thanks for this interesting discussion.
My pleasure! :-)
> It’s true that he was no erudite
Ah, but is it?
> Remembering something, the Cimmerian drew forth the roll of parchment he had taken from the mummy and unrolled it carefully, as it seemed ready to fall to pieces with age. He scowled over the dim characters with which it was covered. In his roaming about the world the giant adventurer had picked up a wide smattering of knowledge, particularly including the speaking and reading of many alien tongues. Many a sheltered scholar would have been astonished at the Cimmerian’s linguistic abilities, for he had experienced many adventures where knowledge of a strange language had meant the difference between life and death.
> His recent allies eyed him in amazement, and Conan asked, in the Aquilonian tongue: “Who is this madman?”
> On a venture Conan replied in Stygian, and the stranger answered in the same tongue: “Who are you?”
> Conan had seen rude images of them, in minature, among the idol huts of the Yuetshi, and there was a description of them in the Book of Skelos, which drew on prehistoric sources.
Conan is not only highly literate in a world where illiteracy is the norm, but he also seems to be particularly knowledgeable of ancient cultures and dead tongues. His, shall we say, “field research” gave him unique insight.
Oh, good catch! So yes, another point of divergence between him and the archetype as it tends to be envisioned by popular culture: while the younger Conan is uneducated, but smart, as he grew older and more experienced, he also learned quite a bit about his world. And that’s not even mentioning how King Conan is quite philosophically inclined and appreciates the arts.
I agree, and I think much the same phenomenon happened to Frankenstein’s monster: the original was seemingly smarter than normal humans, having taught himself to read with Milton, and expressed himself in highly articulate and poetic (if a tad purple) language; but the popular image of Frankenstein is a mentally deficient, zombie-like subhuman who can barely put two words together.
I think it’s a kind of compensation theory, a just-world philosophy. It seems unfair that the same character should be strong and smart and knowledgeable. Mythology and pop culture are full of the idea of “compensation”—Hephæstus is ugly as hell, but highly skilled; Homer was blind, but a genius bard; Daredevil lost his vision, but gained augmented senses; Hulk forgoes his intelligente in order to get strong, etc.
[…] but the popular image of Frankenstein is a mentally deficient, zombie-like subhuman who can barely put two words together.
That one can be traced directly to the Universal movie and its many sequels, I think, which redefined the whole story for modern audiences (though it seems some of its changes originally came from an earlier play?). I’ve read an interesting theory that the impoverishment of the “barbarian warrior” archetype has its origins in L. Sprague de Camp’s and Lin Carter’s “contributions” to the mythos; certainly, a lot of the elements discussed above can be found in their own stories.
Funny you should mention the Hulk: he, too, was actually quite smart in the very beginning, since he wasn’t a different personality yet, he was only Bruce Banner transformed. I think this characterisation only changed when the trigger for his transformation changed from additional doses of gamma radiation to anger.
I think it’s a kind of compensation theory, a just-world philosophy.
I think that’s mostly a factor in modern, post-pulp stories, especially for ensemble stories, since it’s an easy way for writers to add characters who can contribute meaningfully (or at least “meaningfully”) to the plot without feeling superfluous.