From My Bookshelf

I read a lot. A LOT. Magazines, books, stuff on the Internet, books I've written myself, words and words and words and words and words. In the past few years I've leaned towards non-fiction books - seeing as how I write my own fiction - and I try to keep informed on advances in science through magazines. I also love Vanity Fair, even though I sound really fey when I admit that. I haven't been reading a lot of fiction, until recently when I paid another visit to Movie World in Burbank. I picked up this book, which reminded me why I started reading in the first place.

Pirates of Venus by Edgar Rice Burroughs
   This is pulp fiction at its grandest achievement, done by a master. Make no mistake, it's not high literature, the story is about a 1930's man who rockets to Venus and becomes leader of the noble savages there. It was written in that amazing time between 1900 and the advent of World War II, when pulp magazines ruled the news stands and the stories were ripping yarns of high adventure and base betrayal. I loved this stuff as a kid, it's what got me reading in the first place, and coming back to it now is like visiting my old college campus, familiar and yet with surprises I forgot I knew about.

   Edgar Rice Burroughs is the titan of early sci-fi responsible for Tarzan, John Carter of Mars, and Pellucidar (Hollow Earth). Tarzana, CA is named for Tarzan - really - and since Pirates of Venus was written in the 30's, the protagonist leaves from Tarzana to go to his rocket ship. Written towards the end of Burroughs's life and career, the Venus series borrows heavily from everything he'd written before, and he even mentions Tarzan and Pellucidar in the first chapter, but that doesn't detract from the work one bit. Every boy should read this. Twice.

Quote: (you're gonna love this)
'I pressed her to me for an instant; I kissed her, and then I gave her over to the birdman.
   "Hurry!" I cried. "They come!"
   Spreading his powerful wings, he rose from the ground, while Duare stretched her hands toward me. "Do not send me away from you, Carson! Do not send me away! I love you!"
   But it was too late, I would not have called her back could I have done so, for the armed men were upon me.
   Thus I went into captivity in the land of Noobol, an adventure that is no part of this story; but I went with the knowledge that the woman I loved, loved me, and I was happy.'