80 Years of Conan: "Cimmeria"

The more I reviewed the introduction's appraisal of Conan's literary origins in Howard's work, the more I felt one "immediate predecessor" deserved proper inclusion into the Conan canon, and that there was even more to say about this particular piece. The fact that it has been included in several Conan anthologies - particularly the Del Rey collections, as well as countless public domain books - just strengthens the case.
So before we get into the first Conan story, let's look a bit more closely at "Cimmeria."

Historic (and Mythic) Precursors

As most will know, the origin of Howard's Cimmerians was the mysterious and still poorly-understood tribe of nomadic horsemen which dwelt around the north of the Black Sea in antiquity, and by extension, the contemporary meme which cast Cimmeria as the origin of the Celts, including the Welshs and Gaels. Of course, the history and historiography of the factual Cimmerians is a fascinating discussion in and of itself: nonetheless, it's important to understand what Howard knew and felt about the historical Cimmerians when talking about his fictional offshoots, and not colour it with post-1930s discoveries and theories.

Back in the 1940s, knowledge of Cimmeria and the Cimmerians was largely informed by Greek and Assyrian sources. Howard knew of at least one:

Then there were that strange fierce people who came suddenly and terribly into southern Gaul and Italy – the Cimbri, who because of their association with the Germanic Teutones, many historians, including Plutarch, supposed them to be Germans.
At any rate, old historians such as Plutarch and the like, tell us plainly that the Gauls were grey or blue eyed and yellow haired. So were the Britons, while the Gaels, who probably more nearly approached the original Celtic type, were generally grey eyed and dark, rather than blond, with dark brown or black hair.
 - Letter to Harold Preece, 4th January, 1930

Plutarch discussed the Cimmerians in his account of Caius Marius:

There are some that say, that the country of the Celti, in its vast size and extent, reaches from the furthest sea and the arctic regions to the lake Maeotis eastward, and to that part of Scythia which is near Pontus, and that there the nations mingle together; that they did not swarm out of their country all at once, or on a sudden, but advancing by force of arms, in the summer season, every year, in the course of time they crossed the whole continent. And thus, though each party had several appellations, yet the whole army was called by the common name of Celto-Scythians. Others say that the Cimmerii, anciently known to the Greeks, were only a small part of the nation, who were driven out upon some quarrel among the Scythians, and passed all along from the lake Maeotis to Asia, under the conduct of one Lygdamis; and that the greater and more warlike part of them still inhabit the remotest regions lying upon the outer ocean. These, they say, live in a dark and woody country hardly penetrable by the sunbeams, the trees are so close and thick, extending into the interior as far as the Hercynian forest; and their position on the earth is under that part of heaven, where the pole is so elevated, that by the declination of the parallels, the zenith of the inhabitants seems to be but little distant from it; and that their days and nights being almost of an equal length, they divide their year into one of each. This was Homer's occasion for the story of Ulysses calling up the dead, and from this region the people, anciently called Cimmerii, and afterwards, by an easy change, Cimbri, came into Italy. All this, however, is rather conjecture than an authentic history.
 - Plutarch's Lives, Caius Marius, Chapter III

Speculative Historical Cimmerians

Another possible source, mentioned by Plutarch, is Homer. Howard devoured classical sources, and the author of The Odyssey was an obvious favourite. Homer spoke of a possibly mythical version of the Cimmerians, who dwell in a land that will sound very familiar:

She came to deep-flowing Oceanus, that bounds the Earth, where is the land and city of the Cimmerians, wrapped in mist and cloud. Never does the bright sun look down on them with his rays either when he mounts the starry heaven or when he turns again to earth from heaven, but baneful night is spread over wretched mortals.
 - The Odyssey, Book 11 (translation by A.T. Murray)

Much of what Howard has to say about the people of Cimmeria is found in later stories, and has been discussed on this blog before. What's interesting is that there is little to no difference between the Cimmeria described in the sonnet, and the Cimmeria described in the stories. I wonder...

A True Origin?

It is arguable whether "Cimmeria" be counted as part of the Conan canon, especially considering it predates the first Conan story: if anything, Cimmeria would be retroactively added. However, there are several indications that Howard may well have considered "Cimmeria" to indeed be part of the mythos.  First, comparing select phrases and descriptions yields many points of convergence.

The dark woods, masking slopes of sombre hills;
The grey clouds’ leaden everlasting arch;
The dusky streams that flowed without a sound,
And the lone winds that whispered down the passes.
Vista on vista marching, hills on hills,
Slope beyond slope, each dark with sullen trees,
Our gaunt land lay. So when a man climbed up
A rugged peak and gazed, his shaded eye
Saw but the endless vista – hill on hill,
Slope beyond slope, each hooded like its brothers.

It was a gloomy land that seemed to hold
All winds and clouds and dreams that shun the sun,
With bare boughs rattling in the lonesome winds,
And the dark woodlands brooding over all,
Not even lightened by the rare dim sun
Which made squat shadows out of men; they called it
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and deep Night.
 - "Cimmeria"

“A gloomier land never was – all of hills, darkly wooded, under skies nearly always gray, with winds moaning drearily down the valleys.”
 - "The Phoenix on the Sword"

Hills, dark woods, gray skies, wind blowing down the passes, gloom, all variations which appear in both poem and story. The description of Conan's homeland is certainly not a conversion from "Axe," as Kull's Atlantis is never given such detail in that story, and the descriptions of the continent in other stories does not match.  Looking at Howard's extended description in the first draft of "Phoenix" (cut as part of Farnsworth Wright's request to tighten up the opening chapter and - in my opinion - as part of Howard's changing conceptualisation of Conan), one finds even more:

It was so long ago and far away
I have forgot the very name men called me.
The axe and flint-tipped spear are like a dream,
And hunts and wars are shadows. I recall
Only the stillness of that sombre land;
The clouds that piled forever on the hills,
The dimness of the everlasting woods.
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.

Oh, soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills,
To clouds and winds and ghosts that shun the sun,
How many deaths shall serve to break at last
This heritage which wraps me in the grey
Apparel of ghosts? I search my heart and find
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.
 - "Cimmeria"

“A gloomier land never existed on earth. It is all of hills, heavily wooded, and the trees are strangely dusky, so that even by day all the land looks dark and menacing. As far as a man may see his eye rests on the endless vistas of hills beyond hills, growing darker and darker in the distance. Clouds hang always among those hills; the skies are nearly always gray. Winds blow sharp and cold, driving rain or sleet or snow before them, and moan drearily among the passes and down the valleys. There is little mirth in that land.”

“Life seems bitter and hard and futile. The men of those dark hills brood overmuch on unknown things. They dream monstrous dreams. Their gods are Crom and his dark race, and they believe the world of the dead is a cold, sunless place of everlasting mist, where wandering ghosts go wailing forevermore. They have no hope here or hereafter, and they brood too much on the emptiness of life. I have seen the strange madness of futility fall upon them when a little thing like a spinning dust-cloud, or the hollow crying of a bird, or the moan of the wind through bare branches brought to their gloomy minds the emptiness of life and the vainness of existence. Only in war are the Cimmerians happy."

“Well,” grinned Prospero, “the dark hills of Cimmeria are far behind you.
 - "The Phoenix on the Sword" (draft)

Now we see specific and undeniable parallels: "endless vistas," "hills beyond hills," "winds... moan drearily among the passes/lone winds that whispered down the passes," "moan of the wind through bare branches/bare boughs rattling in the lonesome winds."

One of the more unsettling aspects is the comparison of the Cimmerian afterlife to what is described of Cimmeria itself. Take a look at these selections:

It was a gloomy land that seemed to hold
All winds and clouds and dreams that shun the sun,

... Not even lightened by the rare dim sun... 

It was so long ago and far away
I have forgot the very name men called me.
The axe and flint-tipped spear are like a dream,
And hunts and wars are shadows. I recall
Only the stillness of that sombre land...

Oh, soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills,
To clouds and winds and ghosts that shun the sun,
How many deaths shall serve to break at last
This heritage which wraps me in the grey
Apparel of ghosts?
 - "Cimmeria"

Their gods are Crom and his dark race, and they believe the world of the dead is a cold, sunless place of everlasting mist, where wandering ghosts go wailing forevermore. They have no hope here or hereafter, and they brood too much on the emptiness of life.
 - "The Phoenix on the Sword" (draft)

It's tempting to imagine that "Cimmeria" is a description not just of the physical reality of the land, but the spiritual otherworld. The unnamed narrator's preoccupation with ghosts, mists, stillness, the memory of hunts and wars "like shadows"...

Patrice Louinet put forward the theory that "Cimmeria" is a reincarnation poem, but I have to wonder if Howard may have subconsciously recast it as something else. Perhaps the unknown rememberer is not a man of the distant future recalling an ancient past: perhaps he is a wanderer in that realm of everlasting mists which the Cimmerians perceive awaits them after death, where the only thing that made them happy - the hunt, war, conflict - was but a distant shadow. Indeed, if I could perpetuate the idea of a certain ghost-king retelling his tale, perhaps the finale of Conan the Cimmerian's legend is a sombre and gloomy one.

However, to me, the most compelling reason to consider "Cimmeria" the true beginning of Conan is found in Howard's correspondence. Remember the note from last time, where Howard sent a copy of "Cimmeria" to Emil Petaja, where the date and place were established?  Well, there's more to the story than that.  In 1934, Emil Petaja - who went on to be a highly celebrated writer of science fiction and fantasy, not to mention the first Author Emeritus of the Science Fiction Writers of America - wrote fan mail to Howard, which included a rather wonderful tribute in the form of a sonnet:

Echo from the Ebon Isles
A Sonnet Dedicated to the Modern Master of Fantasy, Robert E. Howard

From ancient fabled Cimmeria he came
With sword uplifted, on that bloody day,
To join the beaten forces in the fray,
And triumphant refuse eternal fame.
Men trembled at the mention of his name,
And humbly stepped aside to make his way.
“You are our King,” they said; he answered “Nay.”
And left them wondering what could be his aim,

I saw him then, and I still we him now,
Cryptically silent on yon hill’s brow,
Watching with brooding eyes the scene below
Where flame the earth and sky in scarlet slow,
He grasps his curious staff in mighty hands
And strides into the dusk ... toward other lands.

Howard was most appreciative - he even sent a copy of the poem to Novalyne Price around December of 1934 - and reciprocated by sending him a poetic piece of his own on 17th December that year, one that's now familiar to fans of Conan:

Dear Mr. Petaja:
Thank you very much for the splendid sonnet. I feel deeply honored that a poem of such fine merit should be dedicated to me. You seem to grasp the motif of my stories, the compelling idea-force behind them which is the only excuse for their creation, more completely than any one I have yet encountered. This fine sonnet reveals your understanding of the abstractions I have tried to embody in these tales.

In response to your request for an ms. copy, I am sure I can find something of the sort, when I rearrange my files, which are at the present in a chaotic state. In the meantime I am enclosing a so far unpublished bit of verse, “Cimmeria”, for your notebook. Hope you like it.

Thanking you again for the splendid sonnet, I am,

Cordially,

Robert E. Howard

In response to a poem about Conan the Cimmerian, where Howard notes the author seemed to understand the motifs, idea-force and abstractions embodied in the stories, Howard sends the author a copy of "Cimmeria." By no means is it rock-solid, but I believe it to be sufficient circumstantial evidence that Howard, at least retroactively, considered "Cimmeria" part of the Conan mythos. This wouldn't be the only case of this phenomenon: Tolkien didn't write The Hobbit as a prelude or prequel to The Lord of the Rings, but he certainly thought of it that way after the latter's publication, even going so far as to rewrite the original book so as to better coalesce with the grander story of Middle-earth. If Howard did not write Cimmeria with the intention of its place as the beginning of a saga, perhaps he came to recognize it in retrospect.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Further Reading

Rusty Burke, "Without Effort On My Part," The Iron Harp, v1n1

Frank Coffman, "The Poem "Cimmeria" and Howard's Use of Blank Verse," The Shadow Singer, Issue 5

Brian Murphy, "London Calling: The Call of the Wild Echoes Strongly in Howard's Tales of Conan," The Cimmerian Blog