''A Princess of Mars'' is Edgar Rice Burroughs first novel ever, having first appeared in print in 1917. Better known for his famous character Tarzan, Burroughs's the proverbial goose for the publishing profession, making it hard for us to get past their dedication to never letting their beloved shareholders lose the smile on their faces. Nonetheless a 1917 american novel is no longer protected by the almighty copyright, and as usual Project Gutenberg comes to the rescue.
Nineteen hundred and seventeen. Pulp Fiction[1] is at its apogee, and Burroughs is one of its biggest contributors, with a hundred novels or so before the half of the century. We have mentioned Tarzan already, his other famous series are the Barsoom and the Pellucidar series. Pellucidar belongs in the subterranean adventure genre, which has its protagonists explore underground complexes of caves and tunnels, and specifically in the hollow earth adventure genre where these caves and tunnels are so huge that, in fact, the interior of our planet is a gigantic cave, often with a solar-like body occupying its center, and providing light and warmth for the various living organisms occupying this interior world. Famous forerunners in these genres include Lewis Carroll in his Alice in Wonderland and Jules Verne in his Voyage au centre de la Terre. Barsoom, is the name by which the sentient inhabitants of the planet Mars, know their world. A pretty impressive planet, as far as 2012 sfx go[2], but this is another matter. A pretty impressive world, as far as 1917 science-fiction goes. Giant martians with six arms and legs, rifles that can shoot precisely upwards of two hundred miles, a (sic) "typical southern gentleman of the highest type" whose "slaves fairly worshipped the very ground he trod on" for a hero, a lot of Barsoom is ridiculously outdated. Yet the very flamboyance and exuberance of its early twentieth century science fiction tropes, as well as the impeccable manner in which Burroughs translates these in written language account for the undeniable charm of the novel even to this day. Just as (most) adults would never dream of using a bycycle as a top-of-the-line means of transportation, the very same ones litterally adulate bycycles, as long as their children occupy their saddles. Can we therefore not cast upon A Princess of Mars the same besotted, mushy drooling eyes the average parent casts on the prize of his life? I say we can, and we are then taken in for the ride of our lives on a top-of-the-line entertaining novel. Granted, slavery is not that hip anymore, happily, that's just John Carter's background - in fact, during the course of this and nine other novels, he will be a paragon of all the virtues of mankind, sometimes overdoing it, in our humble opinion. The plot of the novel is pretty basic, as such things go. By unexplained, barely alluded to means, John Carter finds himself transported from Arizona to Mars, where he discovers that his earthly muscles grant him almost divine strength in the lower martian gravity. Feats such as jumping a hundred feet in the air, or felling huge beasts with a simple punch are now his daily fare. Carter soon finds himself adopted by a barbarian tribe of martian men, as long as six-limbed, boar-tusked, green-skinned beings compete in the man category. I had read the book when a teenager, it felt even more ridiculous today than it did then, yet there is nothing to dislike about it, Burroughs delivers pure exhilarating entertainment. More when I finish it.