A REVIEW
Aping the Ape-man
A Vine Madness: Tarzan takes on his teeth-baring jungle
enemies one more time in "Tarzan: The Lost Adventure."
Long after his death, Edgar Rice Burroughs returns
with a brand-new Tarzan novel
By Andrew X. Pham
WITH THE RECENT rash of posthumous publications, putting
a few chapters or an outline into a safe seems to be the best way to get
a book published without doing too much of the work yourself. Also, your
publisher will likely market it as one of your masterpieces.
Several decades after his death, Edgar Rice Burroughs,
one of the kings of the pulps and grandfathers of science fiction, has
a third posthumous novel, Tarzan: The Lost Adventure, on bookstore
shelves. Given the great hoopla surrounding this latest unearthing, Burroughs'
own explanation of how he became the creator of Tarzan provides a useful
perspective: "I had gone thoroughly through some of the all-fiction magazines
and I made up my mind that if people were paid for writing such rot as
I read, [then] I could write stories just as rotten ... just as entertaining
and probably a lot more so" (from The Washington Post, Oct. 27, 1929).
Burroughs published his first Tarzan book, Tarzan of
the Apes, in 1914, and, on average, hacked out about one Tarzan book
every year until 1939. After an eight-year hiatus, Burroughs issued Tarzan
and the Foreign Legion, his last Tarzan book (penned in his hand),
in 1947. The next two Tarzan books rolled off the press after Burroughs'
death (1950), one in 1964 and the other in 1965. Another unfinished and
untitled Tarzan typescript of 83 pages was discovered in Burroughs' safe,
and the publishing vultures have been squawking over the find ever since.
However, not much happened for 30 years until Dark Horse
Comics rustled up one Joe R. Lansdale to beef up the half-finished manuscript.
With a strong stable of pulp-era-oriented artists, Dark Horse put out a
nice four-part comic-book version in softcover. Sales pronounced it a resounding
success, and Dark Horse rushed it out as a piece of hardcover fiction.
Lost City of Ur
IN THIS NEW/OLD TALE, Tarzan returns to his African jungle
from England, where he has been living with his wife, Jane, under the alias
of Lord Greystoke. Back home, Tarzan chances upon a scientific expedition
that ran afoul of a murderous group of Foreign Legion deserters. The Ape-man
quickly becomes enmeshed in rescuing a beautiful damsel and her professorial
father from the bad legionnaires, the dangers of the jungle, a monster
from the world at the center of the Earth and the mad king of the lost
city of Ur.
Lansdale imitates Burroughs not at his best but at his
worst. If Lansdale has any talent as a writer, he has squandered all of
it trying to emulate the Burroughs of the early years. In fact, Lansdale
tried so hard that he often begins every other sentence with "Tarzan."
Sometimes he even succeeds in crafting pulpy blunders as perversely magnificent
as Burroughs'. For instance, in the second half of the book (written entirely
by Lansdale), he describes a fight scene: "The impact shattered the jailer's
head like an overripe fruit, and the contents of this fruit sprayed the
guards and the messengers, and in that instant, a blinking of an eye really,
Tarzan swung the chains, one in either hand, fast and rhythmically, taking
out heads and knees. In less than an instant, four men lay dead and two
were bolting out of the dungeon and down the hall."
How Burroughs' 83-page manuscript became Lansdale's 200-page
novel isn't as surprising as why Lansdale was permitted to contribute such
rot to an innocent manuscript in the first place. Several convenient coincidences
hurry the plot to a predictable ending. Worse, it's open-ended in such
a way that other serials seem quite inevitable.
It's too bad that Lansdale (and Dark Horse) can't envision
something greater. Although Burroughs' particular brand of fiction and
his "golden age" have long faded with his passing, the Tarzan series will
always have a sizable pubescent readership. Anyone toiling in the genre
ought to have enough sense to write decently, so that at least these future
writers won't be prematurely stunted.
Tarzan -- the concept -- still has merit as escapism entertainment
for both the adult and the juvenile markets. But what the genre needs isn't
someone who can ape Burroughs to a fault. It needs someone who can at least
make Tarzan, well, intelligible to a modern age, and maybe not so much
like a mechanical action-figure from a distant past.
Tarzan: The Lost Adventure by Edgar Rice Burroughs and
Joe R. Lansdale; Dark Horse Books; 211 pages; $19.95 cloth.
