Let's not beat around the bush: This is the best book ever.
If I could only save one book from my library this would be it. If I were stuck on a dessert island with only one book this would be it. Etc etc etc.
Just shy of 1000 pages, it took my time getting through all of Howard's tales. I sipped at it like a fine wine. I had to savor the greatness within because I knew once I had read it, there would be no more original Robert E. Howard Conan stories for me to devour. Robert committed suicide at the tender age of 30, and this is all he left us.
I'm still collecting the old paperbacks w/ Frazetta covers. I'll re-read the classic yarns within. But there's nothing new to discover now. Just the new fangled, derivative tales spun by Howard fanboys like L. Sprague De Camp. Better than nothing, I suppose.
Conan is my favorite literary character and Howard's tales truly transport me to a time since forgotten by mankind. All hail Conan...Amra...King of Aquilonia...
R.I.P. Robert E. Howard. May Mitra have mercy on his soul, for we know Crom won't.
No comments:
Post a Comment