Sometimes, as someone who enjoys writing, I find it entertaining to go back and read things I wrote years ago. On one hand, it’s completely embarrassing to see my first attempts at being a novelist, but, at the same time, it’s encouraging. I can see how I’ve developed as a writer.
Reading the Barsoom series kind of feels the same way.
Edgar Rice Burroughs plunged into the world of writing pulp fiction (“rot” as he called it) because he saw that people actually got paid to write such things. Admitting to absolutely no experience as a writer, he set out to do the same and accomplished it with the same wild success that has come to more modern writers of questionable ability (Twilight...50 Shades…). Literature this is not. But, a damned fine yarn it certainly is. It’s a fast-paced set of stories that’s all just plain good fun. The reader doesn’t need to think, doesn’t need to put forth any effort, and it all makes for a very good break for a burnt-out brain in today’s multitasking, non-stop society.
I enjoy this series. The first three stories are told expressly from John Carter’s perspective (first person, the general default to new writers). Thuvia, Maid of Mars, is ERB’s first foray in his Barsoom novels to attempt a more omniscient third-person that is even bold and daring enough to trade off and put us in the minds of both protagonists in turn, Carthoris and Thuvia. Instead of watching our intrepid hero traipse across the vastly unknown expanse of Mars to find his captured love where all we know of Dejah Thoris is what John decides to tell us, we actually get to see both sides of the line this time. It threw me off, at first, but I jumped into reading this book immediately after finishing The Warlord of Mars. However, I appreciated that the shift to third-person slowed down the narrative enough that a few more details could be thrown in to flesh out the scenery (something that develops even further in The Chessmen of Mars...ERB’s paragraphs grow steadily larger). It still has an undeniably amateur quality...but I’m reading pulp fiction, not War and Peace. I glance over the sentences that ring of nonsense and move on.
I won’t hash over any more of the quality, the formula plot, the logic gaps, or dropped plot threads. There are plenty of other reviews here that will spout off about that ad nauseam. I’ve also been reading back through these stories to see them through the eyes of an adult rather than a child with an overactive imagination. The hero still rescues his princess and “gets the girl” as it were, but something actually managed to impress me with Thuvia, Maid of Mars. Considering that this story was in the works between 1912 and 1916, Thuvia is actually given the opportunity to be more than the damsel in distress. By comparison of all we’re allowed to see of Dejah Thoris, Thuvia is a heroine in her own right thanks to her mysterious ability to control banths and her strength of will.
No, she’s not what modern women want to see by way of a heroine. She’s not out there in armor, sword blazing, fighting her own way out of the horde of green men that captured her (though Gods of Mars hinted that she’s quite capable). The readers of ERB’s world, where women in the US still didn’t even have the right to vote, would have balked at the notion. Pulps, like comics, were written with a male audience in mind, and this was still before the World Wars where women showed how much of a bastion they could be to society. But for all this, there are few things in this story more satisfying than the first scene outside of Lothar. The scavenging banths have turned their attentions upon Carthoris and Thuvia. Carthoris moves to protect her, but then:
“You may return your sword,” [Thuvia] said. “I told you that the banths would not harm us. Look!” and as she spoke she stepped quickly toward the nearest animal.
Carthoris would have leaped after her to protect her, but with a gesture she motioned him back. He heard her calling to the banths in a low, singsong voice that was half purr.
Instantly the great heads went up and all the wicked eyes were riveted upon the figure of the girl. Then, stealthily, they commenced moving toward her. She stopped now and was standing waiting them.
One, closer to her than the others, hesitated. She spoke to him imperiously, as a master might speak to a refractory hound.
The great carnivore let its head droop, and with tail between its legs came slinking to the girl’s feet, and after it came the others until she was entirely surrounded by the savage maneaters.
Between that and the similar event John Carter witnessed in Gods of Mars, Thuvia has been cemented as my favorite character in the series. Warlord of Mars has Carter telling us that the women of Barsoom do not fight as men fight, though it is not for a lack of knowing how. If ERB had let Thuvia keep her small pack of banths, the remaining chapters of Maid of Mars could have gone quite differently...but that would have made Carthoris less of the hero that we’re meant to picture him as. Instead, Thuvia is separated from her most powerful weapon, captured, imprisoned, and fought over by five different men. And at least six armies/navies.
I still wasn’t entirely disappointed by ERB falling back into his usual trope (which, I have to admit, is not as horrible as the more dangerous Women in Refrigerators). Thuvia was captured by the original Lustful Villain of the story and imprisoned in the royal palace. But, here, we got to see Thuvia facing down the spineless prince--not for the first time--even though death was the only other apparent option. What we see of Thuvia is what we should have seen of Dejah Thoris in the first three books when we were too busy following John Carter around because of that meddling first-person perspective. As expected, however, Carthoris rescues Thuvia from certain death (and I say “certain” only because Astok was a spineless nit and made sure she was outnumbered and out-muscled). The trope ends there, though. Carthoris isn’t the one to kill his own nemesis, which was refreshing. Kar Komak, a new supporting character from the newly introduced Lotharians, gets the glory kills usually reserved for the primary hero, and Thuvia, in her own feminine way, frees Carthoris from a prison of his own. It’s not the most satisfying twist, but I found it amusing.
In all, the book definitely has its flaws, not the least of which being its abrupt ending. However, I definitely appreciated what was there.