“I still live!” — the motto of John Carter of Mars, just one of ERB’s immortal creations

Seventy-five years ago today, Edgar Rice Burroughs died in bed. He was a wealthy man, who had been instrumental in the development of the San Fernando Valley and his ranch formed the nucleus of what would be the city of Tarzana, California. Despite all of those ‘real world’ accomplishments, his cultural and literary feats far outweigh those Californian dreams-come-true. He created characters and concepts that will be read and remembered for as long as English is spoken—if not long after that. The Epic of Gilgamesh is still being read, after all.

I covered ERB's life in some detail five years ago, which post can be found here. He spent almost half of his life barely getting by. After that? He became a cultural juggernaut. Not only have there been more movies filmed based on his fiction than Stephen King, Tom Clancy and John Grisham combined--which is a fact--none of those authors have created characters or concepts that will (likely) last more than a century. That is the genius that Edgar Rice Burroughs possessed. It can be ridiculed and/or denied, but his spirit strides on, that half-smile on his face.

The secret? I'll let Ed explain it:

“No fiction is worth reading except for entertainment. If it entertains and is clean, it is good literature, or its kind. If it forms the habit of reading in people who might not read otherwise, it is the best literature.”

In the Current Year, we are instructed as to what we should read. We have what is approved/correct, and then there is 'problematic' fiction. We also have appalling levels of Americans reading little to nothing. Meanwhile, we now have an author who has received consecutive Hugos that stack up higher than those received by Heinlein or Herbert--both of whom were Burroughs fans, by the way. Yet, that same Current Year author bitches about low sales and living in a small apartment. Could there be a connection between the post-literacy malaise and the current attitudes extant in Traditional Publishing and among the Brahmins of SF fandom? It can't be ruled out. Giving people what they don't want to read is a fairly sure prescription for them not reading anything at all.

Burroughs gave people what they wanted. Democracy! In fact, he gave them what they didn't even know they wanted until he gave it to them. Sure, there were some prototypes for John Carter and Tarzan, but ERB crystallized and improved upon those models--right out of the gate, with no fumbling--to the point that the precursors are mostly an afterthought.

While Ray Bradbury's star may be waning in the literary firmament, his description of how he reacted as a boy to Burroughs' fiction is still instructive:

"I memorized all of 'John Carter' and 'Tarzan', and sat on my grandparents’ front lawn repeating the stories to anyone who would sit and listen. I would go out to that lawn on summer nights and reach up to the red light of Mars and say, 'Take me home!' I yearned to fly away and land there in the strange dusts that blew over dead-sea bottoms toward the ancient cities."

Carl Sagan would relate having a similar experience.

Edgar Rice Burroughs touched lives. Millions of them. Some would yearn for other worlds, like Sagan and numerous astronauts. Others would seek the wild, like Jane Goodall and many, many others who went into zoology and anthropology. Just as many simply sought something less 'modern', something more transcendent and real. The "Burroughs Boom" immediately preceded the Tolkien and Howard 'booms' of the 1960s. That is no coincidence.

When one digs deep into Tarzan and John Carter, both are versions of the primal American literary genre: the "Captivity Narrative". That narrative--a European being taken captive by Native Americans--long preceded any accounts from Jamestown or the Plymouth Plantation; the Spanish tale of Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca being just one of many. However, such narratives were particularly popular in colonial America and James Fenimore Cooper's 'Leatherstocking' novels were a fictional outgrowth of that. Exploring the topic in-depth would derail this entire essay and it deserves its own venue. I'll just say that ERB tapped into something very deep within the American soul with those two characters.

When we narrow things down to Sword-and-Sorcery, the influence of Edgar Rice Burroughs is starkly evident. In fact, I've written an entire essay about that influence right here. Robert E. Howard, C.L. Moore and Fritz Leiber. Jack Vance and Michael Moorcock. Lin Carter, Roger Zelazny, Adrian Cole, Charles R. Saunders and John C. Hocking. I have no doubt there are more out there who simply don't want to admit to the ERB influence because he's not 'cool' or that he's 'problematic'. They have to wrestle with their own consciences, I guess. Or, they may have been influenced second-hand and don't realize it.

ERB’s legacy has survived—and will survive—such tribulations and shenanigans. His creations speak to the souls of men--and some women--who seek adventure and who kick against the spurs of modernity/post-modernism. For those who seek to swing a sword in an honorable cause or to walk the forests unhindered, his works can slake your thirst. Suppression of such literature only makes the finding that much sweeter. As I said five years ago, “Don’t worry about ERB. Worry about those who have forgotten or repudiated him.”

Rest in peace, ERB. Your legacy lives on.