I’ the Licht o’ September Sleepin’ (Cimmerian September 2025)

But on they came, driven by the implacable will of Suleyman, and now in September, 1529, over the ruins of Hungary, the Turk swept on Europe, with the Akinji—the Sackmen—ravaging the land like the drift ahead of a storm.
 - Robert E. Howard, "The Shadow of the Vulture," The Magic Carpet Magazine, Volume 4 Number 1, January 1934

It's September... so why not?

The People of the Heather: Robert E. Howard and Scotland

Books dealing on Scottish history were easier for me to obtain than those dealing with Irish history, so in my childhood I knew infinitely more about Scottish history and legendry than Irish. I had a distinct Scottish patriotism, and liked nothing better than reading about the Scotch and English wars. I enacted these wars in my games and galloped full tilt through the mesquite on a bare-backed racing mare, hewing right and left with a Mexican machete and slicing off cactus pears which I pretended were the heads of English knights.
 - Robert E. Howard, letter to H.P. Lovecraft

Robert E. Howard's Irish fascination is well-known and explored among Howard scholars. Nearly every genre and series he wrote had some connection to Ireland and the Irish: several series starred Irishmen in lead roles, and a few of his most famous stories are set in Ireland. But Ireland is not the only Celtic nation Howard wrote about: Scotland too can boast her share of Howardian heroes and histories.

Howard counted Scottish authors like Arthur Conan Doyle, Robert W. Service, and Walter Scott among his very favourites, and plenty of his favourite non-Scottish authors like Edgar Allan Poe, Harold Lamb, Talbot Mundy, and Lord Dunsany wrote a few Scots tales in their time. As seen above, Scottish history was a significant influence on Howard's imagination. The theosophical writings of Scots Lewis Spence & William Scott-Elliot were foundational to the Thurian and Hyborian Ages of Howard's most famous creations, Kull of Atlantis and Conan of Cimmeria. My Floridian pal Jeffrey Shanks goes into great detail here:

Howard was far from alone in setting his Weird Tales in Scotland: Edmond Hamilton's "The Atomic Conquerors" is a wild yarn which supposes a rather otherworldly origin for the mysterious vitrified forts populating the Scottish wilderness; H. Warner Munn's "The Werewolf's Daughter" is a grand trilogy detailing the adventures of the Werewolf of Ponkert; Weird Tales regular Seabury Quinn even got in on the action with "the Bride of Dewer," a Rumpelstiltskin tale with a tartan twist.

So, on Robert E. Howard's 113th birthday, I wonder: what would a "Scottish" anthology of Robert E. Howard stories look like?

Robert E. Howard at 112

As I'd been branching out over the past few years, there are a few new friends & followers who might not know much about Robert E. Howard's work, and it never occurred to me to do something fairly simple: a wee list of my favourite stories. Not necessarily those I consider the best, just ones that have stayed with me, and that I found the most compelling & memorable.

Today, Howard's birthday, seems as good a day to do so as any.

To A Bard

Is there a whim-inspired fool,

Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,

Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,

Let him draw near;

And owre this grassy heap sing dool,

And drap a tear.

Is there a bard of rustic song,

Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,

That weekly this area throng,

O, pass not by! 

But, with a frater-feeling strong,

Here, heave a sigh.

Is there a man, whose judgment clear

Can others teach the course to steer,

Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,

Wild as the wave,

Here pause-and, thro' the starting tear,

Survey this grave.

The poor inhabitant below

Was quick to learn the wise to know,

And keenly felt the friendly glow,

And softer flame;

But thoughtless follies laid him low,

And stain'd his name!
 

Reader, attend! whether thy soul 

Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,

Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,

In low pursuit: 

Know, prudent, cautious, self-control

Is wisdom's root. 

 - Robert Burns, "A Bard's Epitah," 1786

Literary Afterlives

See, Howard just got pirates. None of this "arrrr matey" theatricality: just a surly, burly man slouching with a sword.

22nd of January, another in a month with a disproportionate amount of memorials to death authors who've shaped my imagination. Tolkien, Smith, Lovecraft... Howard.

Even before I knew Howard's work, he was always there. He was in my genes, as my parents and grandparents read his work - and the work of those which informed his writings, like Conan Doyle, Burroughs, Haggard - so if nothing else, it's keeping in the family. During the long spell between when I read Almuric and my rediscovery of Howard through Conan, he still managed to be there, that liminal figure on the boundaries of my imagination. Howard's ideas and thoughts echoed throughout the stories I enjoyed even without my realising it: many of the things I liked were mirrored in Howard's work.

Bite-Sized Blog: On Conan, REH and The Times In Which He Lived

“Crom!” It was an explosive imprecation from Conan’s lips as he started up, his great fists clenched into hammers, his veins on his temples knotting, his features convulsed...

In case anyone's wondering: I've not been up to much due to an attack of bruxism, which has resulted in me biting into my left cheek to the point where it feels like someone takes a pair of pliers to my jaw muscles every hour or two. Luckily it's starting to heal now, though I'll be needing gumshields and whatnot. Stayed in most of the last week washing my mouth with benzydamine and whisky.

Hopefully nothing interesting's happened in my absence, like a new Conan movie that's actually an adaptation of one of the original stories being announced with Patrice Louinet taken on board as advisor. 

Because that would just be the worst timing ever.

That I lived to a straight and simple creed...

In the last analysis, I reckon, I have but a single conviction or ideal, or whateverthehell it might be called: individual liberty. It’s the only thing that matters a damn. I’d rather be a naked savage, shivering, starving, freezing, hunted by wild beasts and enemies, but free to go and come, with the range of the earth to roam, than the fattest, richest, most bedecked slave in a golden palace with the crystal fountains, silken divans, and ivory-bosomed dancing girls of Haroun al Raschid. With that nameless black man I could say:

“Freedom, freedom,
Freedom over me! —
And before I’d be a slave,
I’d lie down in my grave
And go up to my God and be free!”

That’s why I yearn for the days of the early frontier, where men were more truly free than at any other time or place in the history of the world, since man first began to draw unto himself the self-forged chains of civilization. This is merely a personal feeling. I make no attempt to advocate a single ideal of personal liberty as the one goal of progress and culture. But by God, I demand freedom for myself. And if I can’t have it, I’d rather be dead.

 - Robert E. Howard, Letter to H.P. Lovecraft, ca December 1932

I had been neglecting my tributes to favourite authors for a while, but there would really be something wrong if I failed to observe the birthday of Robert E. Howard - not least because he, more than any other, gave me a channel for the passion I have for writing.

Bannockburn is permeated with Robert E. Howard. It isn't a pastiche, nor is it an imitation, but I'd like to think the impact of his historical and fantasy fiction on my creative mind would be, if not present, then at least acknowledged as a major influence - in particular "The Grey God Passes," of course, but also the Bran Mak Morn stories, "Delenda Est," "People of the Dark," and plenty more.

More consciously, it occurred to me how much of Bannockburn echoed elements of "The Hour of the Dragon." At first I thought it coincidental, but then I recalled the suggestion that much of Conan's journey in that story echoed the tale of Robert the Bruce himself. This has been brought up a number of times in Howard studies, but speaking in my position as a True Scotsman, I definitely support this hypothesis.

Consider: both are popular kings "elected" by the people to lead, after slaying their rivals by their own hand. Both are offered a position of vassalage to the invaders, which they reject not only from pride, but in the knowledge that the people would reject them and drive them out as the enemy. Both are driven from their country into the wild, where only a handful of brave supporters aid them as they cross the countryside to foreign lands in search of direction. Both (are said to have) come to revelations in dark caves. Both return with renewed purpose after their exile and search for answers, and engage in guerilla warfare, before a final confrontation in which their forces are outnumbered by their enemy - but in stronger positions. Both are aided by the timely intervention of the common people, abused and downtrodden by enemies from home and abroad, who were not ordered, but chose to fight for their own freedom.

I guess, then, it's just natural I would include a mysterious wise woman who may be more than she seems, people from distant lands who aid both sides in the struggle, a nightmare lord of undeath who has come to claim what he believes his birthright, women who remain defiant despite intolerable cruelty and humiliation, and monsters & sorceries beyond the ken of man. But then again, these elements are common to Scottish culture as well as in Howard's 20th-century translations of the Nemedian Chronicles, and since Howard was a great fan of Scottish authors Sir Walter Scott & Arthur Conan Doyle - not to mention the history of the British Isles - it's perhaps inevitable one could make allusions between "The Hour of the Dragon" and Scottish culture.

Zelata bears similarities to the Cailleach Bheur, she who is as part of the wilds as the wolf and bird-of-prey, as well as the many legendary Scottish witches & wise women. Albiona's defiance and determination to die rather than submit reflects the bravery of Countess Isabella MacDuff. The stalwart Pallantides is to Conan as "the Guid" Sir James Douglas was to the Bruce, while the proud Trocero of the semi-autonomous realm of Poitain echoes Aonghas Óg of the semi-autonomous Lordship of the Isles. The aid offered to Conan by the outcast priests of Asura is not unlike legends of the excommunicated Knights Templar offering their secret aid to the Bruce's cause. There's even tales of a Scottish wizard, Michael Scott, roughly contemporaneous with the Wars of Independence, who wore "the oriental costume generally worn by the astrologers of the times" - not unlike the star-and-moon robes Xaltotun was given.

Rest assured, though, this won't be just "The Hour of the Dragon" with a coat of Scottish paint. For one thing, the main character will not be the Bruce, but a lowly peasant of the "Sma' Folk" who finally won the battle. Even so, rather than consciously try to mimic or diverge from my influences, I will be happy enough to simply try to make a good story which reflects what I'm trying to do. It's the best way to pay tribute to both men of the name Robert.

Norris Chambers, 1917 - 2013

  *Picture courtesy of Patrice Louinet

I just got an email from Roger Chambers, Norris Chambers' son, informing me that Norris passed away peacefully yesterday; Friday 22nd.

Norris was, as far as I know, the last person who had known Bob Howard personally.
Over the years, I had been exchanging emails with Norris on a semi-regular basis, and he usually answered them within 24 hours. Less than a month ago, he had been extremely helpful when I asked his help identifying the poems he had furnished Glenn Lord when Glenn was preparing what would become Always Comes Evening. In one of those recent emails, he quoted from memory several lines from "To A Woman", explaining me how much this poem had struck him and had stayed with him all those years.
It will be hard to accept that Norris won't be there to answer my emails anymore.

  - Patrice Louinet

Norris Chambers was a link to the past. With his passing, I'm reminded of the tenuous nature of time, how fleeting it is, and how personal experiences can be lost to time forever. This time last year, the last person to see service in the First World War died. The year before, the last combat veteran passed away. And the year before that, the last speaker of the Bo language. There is no one still alive who bore witness to the nightmares of Paschendaele and the Somme, the horror of Jallianwalla Bagh, the sinking of the Titanic, the Christmas Truce, the October Revolution. There are no more Ottomans, suffragettes, sky sailors, Bedford Boys, Cockleshell Heroes, Castner's Cutthroats, or Golden Thirteens. None of the people who fought for the independence of Estonia, Latvia, Turkey, and Ireland now live to see their countries' freedom. And we've lost other literary connections in the past decade: the last people who knew Thomas Hardy and Harry Houdini have also passed away. And now Norris Chambers, the modern world's last personal link to Robert E. Howard.

All the moments of a lifetime are lost, as they say, like tears in rain. But Norris loved to retell those moments, and as long as his personal site is online, people from all over the world can hear them. But what better way to hear those stories than through the man's own words?

 

Thanks for all the memories, Mr. Chambers.

 I once wrote a fantasy tale about a society in some strange place where people entered into an amusement park and paid a sizeable sum of money to enter a dream parlor. Here a technologically advanced system took you through a lifetime on some fictional planet called Earth where you lived a full life from birth to death. After years of living in a strange land where you might have a great life or a terrible one you died and the journey was over. The experience seemed so realistic that you thought the existence on earth was real and that the life there was the center of the universe.

Visitors to this strange, unreal planet were shocked to find that the people there did not live in harmony but fought each other in strange conflicts called wars. Many of the participants actually died in battle and the dream was over for them. The entire population of that planet was composed of inhabitants living the dreams they paid for in another life.

While there they did not know about their real life but lived the life of the dream. None of the earth planet or the life on it was real!

Those who returned from this dream parlor experience had very vivid memories of the lives they lived there – some were short and some were long, depending on the unpredictable circumstances of that particular dream. Very few of the adventure seekers who took the dream trip wanted to try another experience on earth.

Dreams can be a lot of fun, but they can also become very confusing when you begin to wonder which is the dream and which is real.

Is there a lot of fun in dreaming? Sometimes there is and sometimes there is not. It seems to depend on what the dream is about and how you are involved. My advice would be if you must dream make it a good dream. Then it will be fun!

 - "Big Dreams are Big Fun," Norris Chambers

80 Years of Conan: "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" - Part Three

“Who are you to swear by Ymir?” she mocked. “What know you of the gods of ice and snow, you who have come up from the south to adventure among an alien people?”

80 Years of Conan: "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" - Part Two

The clangor of the swords had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed; silence lay on the red-stained snow. The bleak pale sun that glittered so blindingly from the ice-fields and the snow-covered plains struck sheens of silver from rent corselet and broken blade, where the dead lay as they had fallen. The nerveless hand yet gripped the broken hilt; helmeted heads back-drawn in the death-throes, tilted red beards and golden beards grimly upward, as if in last invocation to Ymir the frost-giant, god of a warrior-race. 

80 Years of Conan: "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" - Part One

 Sometimes you just have to go with the classics.

    “Asgard and Vanaheim,” Prospero scanned the map. “By Mitra, I had almost believed those countries to have been fabulous.”
    Conan grinned savagely, involuntarily touching the scars on his dark face. “You had known
otherwise, had you spent your youth on the northern frontiers of Cimmeria! Asgard lies to the north, and Vanaheim to the northwest of Cimmeria, and there is continual war along the borders.”
    “What manner of men are these northern folk?” asked Prospero.
    “Tall and fair and blue-eyed. Their god is Ymir, the frost-giant, and each tribe has its own king. They are wayward and fierce. They fight all day and drink ale and roar their wild songs all night.”
 - "The Phoenix on the Sword"

Howard didn't have to look far for inspiration for the second tale of Conan the Cimmerian, and actively drew from the previous story to write it: "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" could almost be considered a direct prequel to "The Phoenix on the Sword," so obvious is the link between the two stories in the form of the above quotations.

The shortest of Howard's completed Conan stories is also, in my opinion, the most steeped in myth and symbolism. It may only be 9 pages long, but all nine of those pages are filled with all manner of subtext, some beautiful prose, unforgettable characters and imagery, and an economy which only Howard could provide.

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Chapter V

What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the lie?

I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky.

The subtle tongue, the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing;

Rush in and die, dogs - I was a man before I was a king.

 - The Road of Kings.

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Chapter IV

When the world was young and men were weak, and the fiends of the night walked free,

I strove with Set by fire and steel and the juice of the upas-tree;

Now that I sleep in the mount's black heart, and the ages take their toll,

Forget ye him who fought with the Snake to save the human soul? 

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Chapter III

Under the caverned pyramids great Set coils asleep;
Among the shadows of the tombs his dusky people creep.
I speak the Word from the hidden gulfs that never knew the sun
Send me a servant for my hate, oh scaled and shining One!

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Chapter II

When I was a fighting-man, the kettle-drums they beat,

The people scattered gold-dust before my horses feet;

But now I am a great king, the people hound my track

With poison in my wine-cup, and daggers at my back.

                    — The Road of Kings.

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Chapter I

    Over shadowy spires and gleaming towers lay the ghostly darkness and silence that runs before dawn. Into a dim alley, one of a veritable labyrinth of mysterious winding ways, four masked figures came hurriedly from a door which a dusky hand furtively opened. They spoke not but went swiftly into the gloom, cloaks wrapped closely about them; as silently as the ghosts of murdered men they disappeared in the darkness. Behind them a sardonic countenance was framed in the partly opened door; a pair of evil eyes glittered malevolently in the gloom.
    “Go into the night, creatures of the night,” a voice mocked. “Oh, fools, your doom hounds your heels like a blind dog, and you know it not.”
 - "The Phoenix on the Sword"

80 Years of Conan: "The Phoenix on the Sword" - Introduction

Red Fury's a lucky man!

“Know, oh 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 – Nemedia, Ophir, Brythunia, Hyperborea, Zamora with its dark-haired women and towers of spider-haunted mystery, Zingara with its chivalry, Koth that bordered on the pastoral lands of Shem, Stygia with its shadow-guarded tombs, Hyrkania whose riders wore steel and silk and gold. But the proudest kingdom of the world was Aquilonia, reigning supreme in the dreaming west. 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 sandalled feet.”
- The Nemedian Chronicles, "The Phoenix on the Sword"

So the legend began in December of 1932. The newspaper kiosks, magazine stands, and newsagent shelves carrying Weird Tales received the latest edition, Volume 20, Number 6, and a new cultural icon strode into the popular consciousness. Not yet the fantasy juggernaut of later decades, Conan the Cimmerian's first appearance in any medium was nonetheless auspicious indeed. Could anyone have any idea of how this issue would change the course of fantasy fiction forever?

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."

S.H.I.E.L.D.W.A.L.L. Operation Auntie: A Follow-Up

Over four months later, Auntie's responded.  Due to what they are calling "a backlog of correspondence," my complaint to the BBC was lost in the shuffle, meaning that any possibility of rectification is long gone.  Sturgeon's law dictates that beaurocratic jumbling and IT gremlins are probably to blame over human error or open contempt, so I'll offer them that boon.  Unfortunately, their response comes far too late to be of any use, and doesn't seem to understand the problem in the first place.  They are sorry I was offended, but they weren't sorry they did anything wrong.  I had asked them to rectify this in a follow-up, but what would be the point in doing so five months after the original show came out?  The damage has been done.

Here are the contents of that email, received 19th March 2012:

Dear Mr Harron

Reference CAS-1085160-85SYDW

Thanks for contacting us regarding ‘The Review Show’ broadcast on the 4 November.

Firstly, please allow me to express my most sincere apologies for the long delay in replying. I'm sorry to say that your e-mail was caught up in a backlog of correspondence. We know that correspondents appreciate a quick response and we’re sorry you have had to wait so long on this occasion.

We understand you were unhappy with the final segment of the programme.

In regards to Kirsty Wark stating that the books discussed were out of print, it wasn't actually suggested that all of the books in Stewart Lee's library are out of print.

Kirsty Wark said, "Here’s comedian Stewart Lee with a selection of his favourite books, most of which appear to be out of print. Should that tell us something?"

We apologise for any confusion caused.

In regards to Stewart Lee’s comments on Robert E. Howard, this was not a documentary, but a discussion and Stewart Lee's sentiments were presented not as fact, but as his own personal opinions. He is a contributor and is not speaking for the BBC.

We apologise if you felt his comments about Robert E. Howard were offensive and if you felt the item was poorly researched, but any comments made by Stewart Lee were that of a contributor in a discussion and are not subject to the same levels of research and preparation a documentary.

We’d like to assure you that we've registered your complaint on our audience log. This is an internal report of audience feedback which we compile daily and is available for viewing by all our staff. This includes the programme makers and presenters, along with our senior management. It ensures that your points, along with all other comments we receive, are circulated and considered across the BBC.

Thank you for bringing your concerns to our attention.

Right, let's look at it in more detail.

In regards to Kirsty Wark stating that the books discussed were out of print, it wasn't actually suggested that all of the books in Stewart Lee's library are out of print.

Kirsty Wark said, "Here’s comedian Stewart Lee with a selection of his favourite books, most of which appear to be out of print. Should that tell us something?"

We apologise for any confusion caused.

I think it's pretty clear that this sentence can be taken in two ways.  First, one could assume that Wark is talking about most of Stewart Lee's selection of his favourite books being out of print, which makes sense, since we're talking about his favourite books, not all of the books in Steward Lee's library.  Or, one could assume that Wark was talking about most of Stewart Lee's books in his own library are out of print - even though the segment is specifically talking about a selection of his favourite books, and his library isn't even mentioned.  If, indeed, Wark was talking about Lee's entire collection being "out of print," then that should've been clarified, since there's a big difference.

Nonetheless, this is all besides the point, since none of the books in question were out of print at the time of the show's broadcast.  So if Wark was talking about those other books which were not featured, why mention that little factoid and mean-spirited snipe when it has zero bearing on the books that are being discussed?

In regards to Stewart Lee’s comments on Robert E. Howard, this was not a documentary, but a discussion and Stewart Lee's sentiments were presented not as fact, but as his own personal opinions. He is a contributor and is not speaking for the BBC.

We apologise if you felt his comments about Robert E. Howard were offensive and if you felt the item was poorly researched, but any comments made by Stewart Lee were that of a contributor in a discussion and are not subject to the same levels of research and preparation a documentary.

Again, Stewart Lee said:

Because he was insane, he maintained that he didn't write any (of the stories) - these characters stood over his shoulder, and dictated to him. 

How is a viewer supposed to know that this was Lee's "opinion," given that this isn't being presented as anything of the sort?  This is being presented as fact.   Not "I think he was insane," or "I heard that he maintained he didn't write any of the stories," this is presented as black-and-white, this-is-how-it-is-so.  I can't know if Lee himself considers the insane hallucinating REH to be a factual account of the man, but his language certainly suggests he does.

See, I recognize that this isn't a documentary, but does that mean all attempts at journalistic rigour and fact-checking are thrown to the wind?  I expected better from the BBC.  I can understand a live show being unpredictable and inaccurate, but The Review Show is filmed in advance.  The idea that there's nobody on that show doing a modicum of fact-checking even among contributors absolutely astounds me.  How could anyone be so blasé about the content of a programme which is allegedly about education, encouragement of learning, and discovery of new things?

I think it's the complete lack of accepting complicity which bothers me.  "It's not our fault, you misunderstood what Wark was saying, and we can't be held accountable for what that loose cannon Stewart Lee says!"  All the blame for the misunderstanding is placed back on the viewer for "misunderstanding it."  They try to reassure me by saying my complaint and others like it are circulated around the BBC offices and made available for all to read, but notably fail to ensure that any of the makers, presenters and management will actually make a point of reading it.

Putting it on a desk doesn't mean they will read it.  How do I know?  Several of my friends and family work in the BBC, and I haven't heard anything from them on the matter.  Either they didn't read it, and this "make it available for all" didn't work, or they didn't make it particularly available whatsoever.  Or maybe they just had a paper plane fight one afternoon, who knows.  Who knows what sport they make of license-payer's complaints?

And to top it all off, the email made a point of noting that the address could not be responded to.  The only way to get a response to the response is to go through the complaints process all over again.  I can't be bothered waiting four months just to get another brushing off.

It's times like this I really miss Points of View, but then, I think that show was one giant joke to the BBC, an elaborate prank set up to ridicule all the Tunbridge Wells sorts who complain about all the sex and violence on television. Knowing my luck, they'll get some voice actor to impersonate me on their web show.  If you're reading, Auntie: at least make sure I sound Scottish.

Mark Finn's gearing up: "Southwestern Discomfit" and Blood & Thunder 2.0

A couple of Mark Finn-related links I wanted to share.

First is something I find to be of tremendous importance: "Southwestern Discomfit," a response to Gary Romeo's "Southern Discomfort."  The interests of impartiality on the REHupa website have meant that the latter essay, despite a few considerable issues (which Mark discusses), is widely available to anyone who comes on the site. Unfortunately, the lack of any counterpoint to the essay means that some have taken this as the Party Line on REH and race, which is certainly not the case.

Bothered by this phenomenon in recent times, Mark decided to offer that counterpoint:

REHupa #173 was a watershed mailing, way back in February 2002, for a number of reasons. Significantly, it was the mailing that featured Gary Romeo's article, "Southern Discomfort." As I read the article, I immediately noticed that Gary, in constructing his argument, was so interested in trawling the bottom that he willfully overlooked so much better stuff closer to the surface.  It made me angry, and it made me instantly defensive.  What I wanted to do was first ask Gary: what was your point in writing the article? Who is the target audience for it? And then I wanted to take it apart, piece by piece in my next mailing.

But I didn't. I was new, and I didn't want to rock the boat, or make any enemies right away. So I held my tongue. Besides, I wondered, I had no idea what my fellow REHupans thought about any of this. Maybe they agreed with Gary.

As it turned out, they did not. In the subsequent mailings, several of the older and more experienced REHupa members took Gary to task, and took a number of calculated swings at his essay, his methodology, and even his intent. I felt a lot better about my involvement in REHupa, but I regretted never having a chance to tee off on the topic.

When the REHupa website started up, it was determined that more recent, more approachable articles could also be listed on the site, if any member so wanted. Gary was one of the few people who stepped up to the plate and actually handed out articles to post. Along with his other Pro-de Camp essays was "Southern Discomfort." I watched it go up, go live, and bit my tongue. After all, I thought, who was I to say that Gary could list all the rest of his articles, except that one? That's when I got the idea of first doing a counterpoint article, just to balance out Gary's essay, especially now that it was devoid of its context within the REHupa mailings and commentary structure. But at the time, I was working on what would become Blood & Thunder: The Life and Art of Robert E. Howard, and so, I thought, I had bigger fish to fry.

Now it's 2011. I've been a member in REHupa for nearly ten years now. And it's high time I took a whacking stick to "Southern Discomfort" publically. It has needed it for a long time, particularly since it's one of the most popular things accessed on the REHupa website. The number of links to it from external blogs, websites, and citations used to indicate that yes, Robert E. Howard was indeed a racist, because look, right here, this guy says so on the experts' website, are too numerous to count. That's the problem with Internet research: it's grab and go, and no effort is made to fact-check it.

Well, you may consider this the official fact-check. This article assumes that someone has already read "Southern Discomfort" and want to know more about whether or not Robert E. Howard was a racist or not.

I don't doubt that the issue of Howard and race is something that will be a subject of discussion for as long as Howard himself is, but the more approaches we have to the argument, the more fulfilling and satisfying those discussions may be.

The second piece of news is on the new edition of Mark's outstanding Blood & Thunder: The Life And Art of Robert E. Howard. He made a tantalizing mention that an announcement will be made on Monday, but to tide us over, he revealed the cover for B&T 2.0, courtesy of the indefatigably talented Keegan duo:

I liked the cover for B&T 1.0, but I like this a lot better. Why? Because it has Robert E. Howard on it! That's always good. Plus, while the previous cover had the requisite sanguinary & brontological elements, Conan hacking lumps out of a giant snake isn't representative of Howard's vast library - something Mark himself keenly notes frequently - so rather than pick one aspect of Howard's work, why not pick a quintessential image of Howard which tells you everything you need to know about the man in a single shot?  Better than the studio photo, certainly.