Pulp Fantasy Library: Enchantress of Venus

The distinctions separating the literary genres of fantasy and science fiction are fine ones, especially when dealing with early examples of the latter. For example, is A Princess of Mars a work of science fiction because its story takes place on the very real planet of Mars or is it a mere fantasy because so many of its setting details are incompatible with what we now know about the Red Planet? Over the decades, it's been a frequently contentious issue, hence the proliferation of even finer literary genres – planetary romance, science fantasy, and sword-and-planet, to name but a few – intended to put an end to such questions. As I've gotten older, I've simultaneously become less interested in these matters and more accepting of an expansive definition of "fantasy" that includes all types of imaginative fiction.

In the case of Leigh Brackett's tales of Eric John Stark, many of which appeared in the pages of Planet Stories in the 1940s and '50s, this primal concern nevertheless resurfaces. Even in 1949, when Brackett wrote her first story of Stark, enough was known about the other worlds of our solar system that there was little plausibility to their being habitable by mankind without significant technological aid, let alone having intelligent natives of their own. Was Brackett then writing fantasy or did her stories still qualify as science fiction, albeit of an old fashioned sort – or is this, as I increasingly feel, a distinction without a difference? 

Of course, little of this matters, as Stark's adventures are engaging yarns told with great enthusiasm. "The Enchantress of Venus," which first appeared in the Fall 1949 issue of Planet Stories, amply demonstrates what I mean. Second in the chronology of the tales of Stark, the novella takes place, as its title suggests, on the planet Venus, renowned for its "seas" of buoyant, phosphorescent gas. This detail is important because, as the story begins, Stark is aboard a ship making its way across one such Red Sea toward the town of Shuruun. 

Shuruun is, to borrow a phrase, a wretched hive of scum and villainy. Stark is no stranger to such places and thus has no fear of the town. However, he only sought it out to find his friend, Helvi, "the tall son of a barbarian kinglet," who had gone into the town previously and never returned. Stark feels an obligation to locate Helvi and, if necessary, rescue him from whatever peril awaited him in Shuruun. Like so many pulp fantasy protagonists, Stark lives by his own code of honor, one that places great value in friends.

Malthor, the captain of the ship on which he is traveling, repeatedly suggests that Stark, whom he recognizes as a stranger, due to his black Mercurian skin, would do well to lodge with him when they reach Shuruun. Each time, Stark declines. As it turns out, he has good reason to do so: Malthor's true intentions are wholly sinister. Just as the ship gets within sight of the "squat and ugly town" that "crouch[ed] witch-like on the rocky shore, her ragged skirts dipped in blood," Malthor and some of his crew attack Stark in an attempt to take him prisoner, though for what precise purpose he did not know (and would not until later in the story). Rather than suffer this fate, Stark dives overboard into the Red Sea.

The surface of the Red Sea closed without a ripple over Stark. There was a burst of crimson sparks, a momentary trail of flame going down like a drowned comet, and then—nothing.

Stark dropped slowly downward through a strange world. There was no difficulty about breathing, as in a sea of water. The gases of the Red Sea support life quite well, and the creatures that dwell in it have almost normal lungs.

Stark did not pay much attention at first, except to keep his balance automatically. He was still dazed from the blow, and he was raging with anger and pain.

Properly scientific or not, this is evocative stuff and a reminder of why Brackett made such a splash (no pun intended) in the world of pulp fantasy during the 1940s and '50s. 

Emerging from the sea, Stark makes his way to Shuruun in search of Helvi. He is almost immediately recognized as a stranger by the locals, who confront him and appear ready to attack. Before this can occur, a white-haired Earthman named Larrabee calls out and invites him to drink with him. Larrabee, we soon learn, is a notorious thief who "got half a million credits out of the strong room of the Royal Venus." In the nine years since, he has holed up in Shuruun to avoid being found by the authorities. When Stark introduces himself, Larrabee mentions that he knows his name from a wanted poster as "some idiot that had led a native revolt somewhere in the Jovian Colonies—a big cold-eyed brute they referred to colorfully as the wild man from Mercury." 

Stark is amused by this description of himself but soon shifts the conversation to local matters, in particular the whereabouts of Helvi. Larrabee claims not to have seen him and instead speaks of the Lhari, "the Lords of Shuruun," who are "always glad to meet strangers." Hearing this, Stark decides he to call on the Lhari to see if they might know something about Helvi. Along the way, he meets Zareth, the teenage daughter of Malthor, who'd been sent into Shuruun to find him and then lure him into an ambush outside the city. Then, he'd be handed over to "the Lost Ones," who dwell in the interior of the swamp and have an interest in strangers like Stark. Zareth doesn't follow through on her father's plans, though, because he beats her and she hates him. However, she has no interest in joining Stark in visiting the Lhari, who frighten her as much as her father.

If you're having difficulty keeping all these narrative threads – Malthor, the Lhari, the Lost Ones – straight in your head, that's understandable. Brackett throws a lot at her readers at the beginning of "The Enchantress of Venus" and its can be confusing at times. Fortunately, she's a very skilled writer and repays the patience and forbearance shown to her. By the time Stark enters the castle of the Lhari and meets them, in all their decadent glory, for the first time, that things begin to make a great deal more sense. In some ways, that's the real beginning of the novella and the action barrels along from that point until it reaches its ultimate, satisfying conclusion. It's a lot of fun to read and reminds me, in some ways, like many of Robert E. Howard's tales of Conan the Cimmerian: a "wild" outsider finds himself caught up in the machinations of several sinister factions and must find a way to extricate himself from their clutches. What's not to love?

Planet Stories and I

As anyone who reads this blog regularly knows, I am a huge supporter of Paizo's Planet Stories line of books, which brought back into print many seminal works of pulp fantasy and science fiction. I happily took out a subscription in order to support the company's desire, which I also share, to "provid[e] a better understanding of the genre with classic stories that easily stand the test of time." And, if you look at the early entries in the series -- C.L. Moore's tales of Jirel of Joiry and Northwest Smith, Henry Kuttner's Elak of Atlantis stories, Leigh Brackett's Eric John Stark adventures, and many others -- you can see that Paizo made good on that desire. As someone who has an abiding interest in the literary inspirations of our hobby, I was ecstatic to see a publisher putting out attractive, accessible, and reasonably priced editions of seminal authors as diverse as Abraham Merritt, Manly Wade Wellman, and Otis Adelbert Kline.

Lately, though, with exception of the Wellman Silver John collection about which I've been raving, my enthusiasm for Planet Stories has been waning. Early on, I remember hearing complaints from others that many of the authors whose works were highlighted weren't "worthy" of being included, as they were of interest only to weirdos like myself. Naturally, I disagreed and indeed was pleased to see that some more obscure authors were getting the chance to present themselves and their stories to the world once again, thanks to Planet Stories.

Ironically, I now share the opinion of those critics, even if the authors I wouldn't consider worthy are different ones. Yesterday, I received my latest Planet Stories volume, a monstrous tome (450 pages in length) called The Walrus & The Warwolf by an author I'd never heard of, Hugh Cook. If the length hadn't put me off, reading China Miéville's praise of it as "meta-textually adventurous and pulp-avant-garde" certainly did so. Doing some research, I discovered that the novel is the fourth volume of a 10-volume series that was intended to be part of a larger series that would have encompassed 60 volumes. I can't say this new information did much to decrease my wariness.

I'm willing to forgive an occasional misfire in a series of books. After all, even the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series had its fair share of clunkers. (And it may even be that The Walrus & The Warwolf is something I will actually like once I get round to reading it). But two other recent releases, both by Piers Anthony, an author I don't particularly like, have sort of shattered my faith in Planet Stories, with only November's The Complete Hok the Mighty collection exciting me (and Before They Were Giants really disappointing me) among the installments announced for this year.

Now, maybe I'm being overly critical. Or maybe I had false expectations for the line. I don't know. I had assumed that most, if not all, of the books in the series would be works of older pulp fiction (i.e. pre-1970 or thereabouts). It may well be that there's not much of a market for such stuff and Paizo is simply shifting ground in order to be able to keep Planet Stories going at all. I know that the change from monthly to bimonthly was a result of such concerns. I can't blame Paizo for wanting to make some money off their efforts, but, speaking only for myself, if they can't do that according to the original vision of Planet Stories, I'd just as soon see it end. Much as I appreciate being able to get nice, new editions of classic SF and fantasy, I don't want to have to pay for other stuff that doesn't interest me to do it.

So, I don't know. I've already gotten several books through my subscription that don't appeal to me as it is. Do I want more just so I can get a discount on The Complete Hok the Mighty at year's end? I'm increasingly thinking not and that saddens me.

The Legend of Hillbilly John

So, as you can see from the picture to the right under "What I'm Reading," I'm enjoying Paizo's recent collection of all of Manly Wade Wellman's "Silver John" short stories, about which I posted briefly a year and a half ago. They're frankly among the best fantasies I've read in a long time, so much so that I'll probably be discussing several of the tales at length in upcoming installments of my "Pulp Fantasy Library" series. Wellman was a superb stylist and his gift for realistic, natural dialog is matched by very few authors. Combined with his knowledge of the history and folklore of the Appalachians, his Silver John stories make for great reading.

Anyway, the Paizo collection includes two introductions, a new one by Mike Resnick and a reprint of an older one by Karl Edward Wagner. Both of them make reference to something I didn't know existed -- a movie based on the Silver John stories. Here's what Resnick says about it:

And now that I've praised the stories and touted you onto the novels, let me tout you off something. Hollywood made a film version of the Silver John stories, done with Hollywood's usual taste and respect for the material. It is called The Legend of Hillbilly John, and the change from Silver John to Hillbilly John pretty much says it all.

Wagner provides some more details:

John would next appear on film, with folksinger Hedge Capers miscast as John. The film was partially shot in Madison County, North Carolina (the general setting of the John stories) in October 1971. Despite a surprisingly good supporting cast and the incorporation of two of the best stories ("O Ugly Bird!" and "The Desrick on Yandro"), the film was an embarrassment -- largely due to its shoestring budget and stultifying script. It was released in 1972 as Who Fears the Devil and flopped at the box office. It was the re-edited and re-released the following year as The Legend of Hillbilly John, with equal success. Sometimes it turns up on videocassette.

What's sad is that I think the stories of Silver John would make for great cinema, either on the big or small screens. The stories are well written and focused, with superb characterization and dialog and mixing horror with a deep love for the people and traditions of the mountains in which they take place. I imagine very few people in Hollywood these days have any interest in these things -- more's the pity.

Even so, is it wrong of me to want to hunt down this movie and watch it?

Early Birthday Gift from Paizo

What should come in the mail today but the latest installment in my Planet Stories subscription, The Ship of Ishtar by Abraham Merritt! Not only is it a complete and unabridged edition of this classic tale but it includes original illustrations by Virgil Finlay, probably my favorite artist from the period (and why can't I find a contemporary artist who illustrates in Finlay's style?). And an introduction by Tim Powers doesn't hurt either, come to think of it.

It's been a long time since I've read The Ship of Ishtar, so it'll be a pleasure to have the opportunity to do so again in the near future. Perfect timing too, since I just finished my latest Poul Anderson collection a couple of days ago. Thanks for the early birthday gift, Paizo!

Appendix 3

So I'm flipping through the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game and I come across Appendix 3, "Inspiring Reading." Given that Planet Stories seems to have as its goal the re-publication of a goodly part of Gygax's Appendix N, I was quite interested in what the guys and gals at Paizo considered their primary literary influences. For the benefit of those who haven't seen it, here's the list:

Barker, Clive: The Hellbound Heart, Imagica, Weaveworld
Beowulf (anonymous)
Blackwood, Algernon: “The Willows,” “The Wendigo,” et al.
Brackett, Leigh: The Sword of Rhiannon, Skaith series, et al.
Burroughs, Edgar Rice: Pellucidar, Mars, and Venus series
Campbell, Ramsey: Ryre the Swordsman series, et al.
Dunsany, Lord: The King of Elfland’s Daughter, et al.
Farmer, Philip José: World of Tiers series, et al.
Carter, Lin: ed. The Year’s Best Fantasy, Flashing Swords
Feist, Raymond: Riftwar saga, et al.
Gygax, Gary: Gord the Rogue series, et al.
Kuttner, Henry: Elak of Atlantis, The Dark World
Homer: The Odyssey
Howard, Robert E.: Conan series, et al.
Hugo, Victor: Les Miserables
King, Stephen: Dark Tower series
Leiber, Fritz: Fafhrd & Gray Mouser series, et al.
Lovecraft, H. P.: Cthulhu Mythos tales, et al.
Machen, Arthur: “The White People,” et al.
Martin, George R. R.: Song of Ice and Fire series
Merritt, A.: The Ship of Ishtar, The Moon Pool, et al.
Miéville, China: Bas-Lag series
Moorcock, Michael: Elric series, et al.
Moore, C. L.: Black God’s Kiss
Offutt, Andrew J.: ed. Swords Against Darkness
One Thousand and One Nights (traditional)
Poe, Edgar Allan: “The Fall of the House of Usher,” et al.
Saberhagen, Fred: Changeling Earth, et al.
Saunders, Charles: Imaro series, et al.
Shakespeare, William: Macbeth, et al.
Simmons, Dan: Hyperion series, The Terror, et al.
Smith, Clark Ashton: Averoigne and Zothique tales, et al.
Stoker, Bram: Dracula, Lair of the White Worm, et al.
Tolkien, J. R. R.: Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Hobbit
Vance, Jack: Dying Earth series, et al.
Wagner, Karl Edward: Kane series, ed. Echoes of Valor
Wells, H. G.: The Time Machine, et al.
Wellman, Manly Wade: John the Balladeer series, et al.
Zelazny, Roger: Amber series, et al.

It's a good list, to be sure, certainly not identical to my own, but then why would it be? I find it hard to quibble about any list that includes Howard, Kuttner, Leiber, Merritt, and Wagner. And Smith finally earns his much-deserved spot, which makes me happy. There are a few authors there I don't much care for, but that's true of Appendix N as well, if I'm honest.

Would that Pathfinder weren't a 600-page behemoth and I'd probably be happier still.

Planet Stories Continues to Impress

I just received Robots Have No Tails, the first volume in Paizo's revamped Planet Stories line. I've only barely begun reading the five short stories included in the book, so I can't say much about them -- though, being Henry Kuttner efforts, I have little doubt that I'll enjoy them greatly. However, I can say that I am absolutely in love with the new format of the series. The books are slightly larger and thinner now, with a two-column layout that recalls the pulp magazines in which these stories appeared. So does the paper, for that matter, which, though sturdy, reminds me of old-fashioned magazines, as do the illustrations that begin each tale.

All in all, I think the changes are ones of which I greatly approve. They give Planet Stories a "pulpier" feel that I think better suits their subject matter than the trade paperback format of the earlier volumes. I have already found Robots Have No Tails much more readable and portable than its predecessors, which is terrific, as Planet Stories is what I read while on the subway or in the backseat of a car. It's a pity the series has gone bimonthly and I hope that's not because of poor sales. Planet Stories is a remarkable line of books and I'd hate to see it come to an end anytime soon. People are finally starting to give the pioneers of genre fiction their due, so we need Planet Stories more than ever.

Planet Stories Changes

This is a press release issued by Paizo about some changes to the format, frequency, and subscription of its excellent Planet Stories line of pulp reprints:

We've just implemented some changes to the Planet Stories imprint and to Planet Stories subscriptions that we believe will significantly increase the quality of the books in general and enhance the value of your subscription.

Starting with June's Robots Have No Tails, by Henry Kuttner, Planet Stories subscribers will enjoy a 30% discount on new Planet Stories volumes (up from 20%). Additionally, subscribers will be able to order older Planet Stories books at a substantial 15% discount off the cover price as an added benefit of subscribing. We hope this new discount structure makes it easier for collectors to pick up volumes they may have missed from earlier in our series.

Also in June, Planet Stories will shift to a roughly bimonthly publication schedule, with six volumes scheduled per year into the future. We're worried we may be producing Planet Stories books faster than subscribers are able to read them, so we want to slow things down a bit and give each book a chance to make a strong impact on the marketplace and in the minds of our faithful readers. We hope to increase the frequency in the future, but doing so will require significantly more subscribers than we have now and better penetration into local and national bookstores. We believe these changes will come with time, and reducing the frequency in the meantime gives us an opportunity to ensure that Planet Stories has the best possible foundation in the years to come during a very challenging period for the book publishing industry.

The biggest change to the line will become apparent when we send out Robots Have No Tails in the upcoming weeks: We've completely revised the Planet Stories format to pack in more story for your buck and to include illustrations that harken back to the pulp era from which many of our stories are drawn. In the case of this summer's The Ship of Ishtar, by A. Merritt, we've even negotiated rights to publish illustrations by noted pulp illustrator (and the best man at the wedding of C. L. Moore and Henry Kuttner) VIRGIL FINLAY!

Those of you familiar with Finlay's marvelous work will no doubt be jumping up and down with excitement. Those of you who have not encountered his work are in for a real treat. Other Planet Stories volumes will contain interior illustrations (many original to the Planet Stories line) as well, and we hope to set a new standard of design excellence with the series. We've posted sample page layouts on the Robots Have No Tails product page to give you a taste of what's in store in the very near future.

The very best way that you can help to ensure a bright future for Planet Stories is to subscribe, and to evangelize the line to your science fiction and fantasy-reading friends. We hope to double the number of Planet Stories subscribers in the next year, and we're going to need all the help you can provide in order to achieve that goal.

We're more excited about the Planet Stories line than we've ever been. In many ways, we're finally publishing these stories in a format that does them justice and best matches our original plans for the line. We hope you love what's in store, and that you continue to support Planet Stories.

It means the (strange adventures on other) worlds to us.

Sincerely,

Erik Mona
Publisher
Paizo Publishing, LLC

They Dream for Us

There are certain authors that are primal, and are in some cases best suited to being discovered by young readers. They have a kind of magic that is impossible to define in literary terms. These writers, imagining on paper deep dreams of power and sex and survival, tap into those roots that are closer to the reptilian brain than the more developed part of our gray matter that deals with culture and society and maintaining good manners.

These writers not only dream, they dream for us.

--Joe R. Lansdale, "Otis Adelbert Kline: Swords and Planets and Adventure, Oh My"

That's from the introduction to latest Planet Stories release, The Outlaws of Mars, which is next up on my reading list. The entire line of books has kept me happily occupied over the last year and shows no signs of letting up anytime soon. It really is one of the most exciting things happening in fantasy publishing these days. Fans of pulp fantasy owe a big debt of gratitude to the Paizo crew for their work on Planet Stories. Thumbs up.

Pulp Fantasy Library: Queen of the Martian Catacombs

Along with swords-and-sorcery, sword-and-planet stories exerted an immense influence over the imaginations of many early game writers. This second genre is most famously exemplified by the Barsoom stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, but also includes the works of authors as diverse as Edmond Hamilton, Otis Adalbert Kline (who was Robert E. Howard's literary agent), Gardner Fox, and Michael Moorcock. Stories in this genre can't rightly be called science fiction, since they often play rather fast and loose with scientific fact. At the same time, they're not wholly fantasy either, since many sword-and-planet authors tried to maintain some semblance of plausibility to their tales. Thus, they exist in a middle realm, freely borrowing elements from both science fiction and fantasy.

Leigh Brackett wasn't just another sword-and-planet writer. In 1946, she co-wrote -- with William Faulkner, no less! -- the script to the Humphrey Bogart movie, The Big Sleep, considered by some the best hardboiled detective movie ever made. Brackett also wrote the first story treatment for The Empire Strikes Back, owing to George Lucas's great fondness for her tales of planetary mercenary Eric John Stark. Stark made his first appearance in Planet Stories in the summer of 1949 and went on to become the protagonist in many more stories throughout the 1950s and 1960s.

"Queen of the Martian Catacombs" describes Stark's adventures on Mars, where he becomes enmeshed in a plot by criminals who are attempting to stage a revolution that would leave them masters of the planet. Initially, Stark comes to Mars as a mercenary to fight in the little wars between its city-states. When he's caught by Terran agents, though, he reluctantly agrees to work with them in investigating this plot and soon discovers that there's far more going on than anyone realizes. Unlike many sword-and-planet protagonists, Stark isn't a chivalrous straight arrow; he has a wild and unruly nature and his innate sense of justice means that he often acts against the powers-that-be rather than with them. Indeed, Brackett's stories often have an unexpectedly anti-colonialist thrust to them, a theme that becomes ever more important as the series grew over time.

"Queen of the Martian Catacombs" was expanded and republished in 1964 under the title The Secret of Sinharat, which is currently available from Paizo Publishing as part of their Planet Stories line. It's an engagingly written story and Eric John Stark is a terrific character. And of course Leigh Brackett is one of the great unsung writers of pulp fantasy and science fiction. It's unfortunate how few people in this hobby are familiar with her many works, given how much of an impact she's had over its early days. If you're one of those people, do yourself a favor and read a story or two by her -- any one will do; they'll all repay the effort.

The Swordsman of Mars

I received in the mail today the latest installment of my Planet Stories subscription, The Swordsman of Mars by Otis Adalbert Kline (Writers used to have such terrific names, didn't they?) Kline is probably not very well known to many people today, except perhaps as Robert E. Howard's literary agent from 1933 until REH's death three years later. Kline continued to act in that capacity afterward, helping to get Howard's manuscripts published posthumously, including the planetary romance, Almuric (also available from Paizo).

Prior to this, though, Kline had penned many pulp fantasies himself, including the Martian adventures of Harry Thorne. This is the first complete edition of the stories to have appeared since the 1930s, which alone is good enough reason to read them. That they're also excellent tales that compare very favorably with those of Burroughs only adds to their attraction.

Once again, my hats off to Paizo and Planet Stories. Frankly, I can't think of a more exciting series of books being published anywhere today.

Shilling Isn't Just an English Coin

I've mentioned Paizo's Planet Stories line of reprints a lot in this blog. I do that for a couple of reasons. One is that I like Paizo; I think their hearts are in the right place when it comes to our shared hobby and I'd like to see them succeed. Another is that they're singlehandedly doing more to educate today's gamers about the literary foundations of the hobby than probably any company out there. The stories they're reprinting are forgotten classics by authors whose influence on D&D cannot be underestimated. I'm a firm believer, as you know, in respecting the past and Planet Stories is a giant love letter to the early days of fantasy and science fiction.

I had been buying each book in the series piecemeal through local retail stores. However, I decided that, since I was buying them all anyway, I might as well get a subscription. Obviously, this isn't something everyone will want to do, not even if you're a fan of pulp literature. Still, I'd like to recommend it as an option, because I'd like to see Planet Stories prosper for many years to come. And maybe one day my dream of seeing every author and story in Appendix N to the Dungeon Masters Guide back in print will come true.

Black God's Kiss

"He was still staring, as most men stared when they first set eyes upon Jirel of Joiry. She was tall as most men and as savage as the wildest of them, and the fall of Joiry was bitter enough to break her heart as she stood snarling curses up at her tall conqueror. The face above her mail might not have been fair in a woman's head-dress, but in the steel setting of her armor it had a biting, sword-edge beauty as keen as the flash of blades. The red hair was short upon her high defiant head, and the yellow blaze of her eyes held fury as a crucible holds fire."

With these words, C. L. Moore's heroine Jirel of Joiry was introduced to the world in "Black God's Kiss," published in Weird Tales 1934. Once again, Paizo Publishing's Planet Stories line fills a void in pulp fantasy. Collected in this volume are all six of Moore's stories of the medieval French swordswoman, the first female protagonist of note in the annals of sword & sorcery. Despite the impression the cover illustration gives, Jirel is no female Conan and would never be caught dead in armor so ludicrous (she is called a "lobster" by an antagonist who does not realize that it is a woman who nearly bested him in battle).

Jirel is the ruler of a fictitious fiefdom ostensibly in France sometime before the modern era but history is such a minor concern in these stories that they might as well be set in the Hyborian Age. She is thus a leader of man, who cares more about her domain and its people than she does about herself. Like Conan's first appearance in "The Phoenix on the Sword," "Black God's Kiss" features Jirel fighting to reclaim the rulership of Joiry by any means necessary. Though a warrior of no mean skill, it's interesting to note how differently she approaches than problem than did the Cimmerian in a similar situation. That different approach is one of many reasons why Moore's short stories are still worth reading almost 75 years later.

"Black God's Kiss" is unquestionably a classic of pulp fantasy and worth the $12.99 cover price alone. The other five stories in the collection are a mixed bag in my opinion, but each offers something for aficionados of the genre. The sixth story, "Quest of the Starstone," was co-written with Henry Kuttner, Moore's husband, and features a meeting between Jirel and Northwest Smith, making it a rather unusual story and another example of the blurry lines between science fiction and fantasy in those days (The story is also reprinted in the Paizo collection Northwest of Earth, which I discussed earlier). All the stories reveal the considerable talents of Moore, whose characters, even supporting ones, show greater depth than one would expect and whose plots were unusual even when originally published.

Paizo continues to do good work with their Planet Stories line. I have not regretted buying a single one and Black God's Kiss is no exception.

Mo(o)re Northwest Smith

I've been greatly enjoying Northwest of Earth from Paizo's Planet Stories line of reprints. I'd never read these pulp science fiction tales before, so it's a real treat. Despite the years, they hold up remarkably well. Yes, the science is completely fanciful and would almost certainly have been fanciful even at the time they were written, but that doesn't adversely affect the fiction at all. In some ways, I think it works to the advantage of the stories. When you read them, you won't get caught up in technobabble and speculation and can just focus on the characters and situations, both of which are extremely well done and engaging.

Last night, before before bed, I was reading the story "Dust of the Gods," in which Northwest Smith finds himself, once again, out of work, out of money, and almost out of booze. So he and his faithful friend, the Venusian Yarol, consider hiring themselves out a wild-eyed little Earthman whose employment has already scared off several toughs. After listening to the madman's tale, the two companions confer with one another.

"Did you believe that yarn?"

"Don't know -- I've come across some pretty funny things here and there. He does act half-cracked, of course, but -- well, those fellows back there certainly found something out of the ordinary, and they didn't go all the way at that."

"Well, if he'll buy us a drink I say let's take the job," said Yarol. "I'd as soon be scared to death later as die of thirst now. What do you say?"

"Good enough," shrugged Smith. "I'm thirsty too."

With dialog like that, it's hard not to enjoy these stories. They take place in a setting that reminds me a bit of Space: 1889 except with "modern" rather than Victorian trappings. All the worlds of the solar system boast intelligent species and Earthmen have entered a dark universe whose true history they do not understand. Lurking in the background there are secrets and mysteries and things Man was not meant to know. Into this strides Northwest Smith, a latter day gunslinger, with his scarred face and no-color eyes. These stories are a terrific blend of science fiction, horror, Westerns, and the weird tale. They're great fun and it's hard not to be inspired by them.

Before there was Han Solo ...

... there was Northwest Smith. Paizo Publishing has collected all of C. L. Moore's Northwest Smith stories under a single cover as part of their excellent Planet Stories line. If you're a fan of pulp science fiction that, according to Fritz Leiber, is part Abraham Merritt, part Robert E. Howard, and part H. P. Lovecraft, you're in for a treat. This is a superb collection and Paizo, particularly Erik Mona, deserve a huge round of applause for making the literary roots of our hobby once again available to a new generation.