Continuing my Great Literature series begun with Red Sonja and Conan, I’ve started reading the Barb Wire saga.
She’s a part of the Dark Horse Universe. We forget (or even don’t know) about it because of the supremacy of the DC and Marvel mythologies; like Greek and Roman, in no particular order, since so many of the super strength, super fast, invisible, other-dimension-origined, et al. are merely different manifestations of the same gods. Dark Horse fits into this framework but on a smaller scale and with some indie differences. For example: there is the odd character Concrete who is a man with his body replaced–for some reason–with a minimal-featured stone body, and who has to learn to live in his new circumstances. It’s more middle-aged Bildungsroman than superhero. Dark Horse’s polished indieness is appealing in a different manner than the experimentation of less established indie publishers. Solid yet daring.
I’m not sure where but I’d seen covers of old superhero comics recently and, though I read mostly sci-fi comics growing up, it made me nostalgic for some classic 60s/70s pulp art cheese. Enter, somewhat unrelated, Comixology. I had resisted them in the same but greater way that I resist ebooks: physicality is important and especially so with art. However, also as with ebooks, for much of what I purchase physicality is not needed because some of the books are more… ephemeral? In other words: some are worthy of taking up space on a shelf and others not so much.
Back in the 90s maybe earlier, no it can’t be earlier because I didn’t get to Atlanta until 85 or so, so probably late 80s early 90s. There was a used book store call Oxford Too that was at 2395 Peachtree Rd. (looking at Google Earth). It was an old house that had stacks of books, narrow hallways, lots of dust. Heaven.
I just watched this on MST3K. Their marathon station on PlutoTV (channel 385) is constantly on in the background when I work from home, and so it often bleeds over to the weekends. The humor of the series is not as frequent as when I originally watched in college, but the banter between Joel, Mike, and the robots is like TV comfort food. Even just looking over to see Crow gab at the screen can lighten an oppressive day. That charm is their staying power.
🎶 …he’ll have to sit and watch them all while they monitor his mind… 🎶
There were 35 books from 1966 to this 2019 (!), and two movies: Gor (1987) and Outlaw of Gor (1988). The books are well known for their S&M and misogyny and are an egregious rip-off of both Conan the Barbarian and Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom series. The latter is pretty dated and contains its own “quaint” views of women, but those views are explained by the early 20th century publishing date. The Gor novels began being published during the heyday of 2nd wave feminism, so they are more of a push toward for a more subservient time rather than a “grandpa just doesn’t know better” moment.
The main character is a college professor (Tarl Cabot) who gets transported to a parallel Earth that is stuck in some Conan world. There, he becomes a brave warrior saving/having his way with slave women and generally alpha-maling it up. The author (John Norman) of the books is a college professor (John Frederick Lange, Jr.) who has decidedly not been transported to the land of subservient slave women, but can at least Mary Sue his way there.
How you see yourself… (cover of Outlaw of Gor by Boris Vallejo)
…vs. how you really look… (MST3K lover letter to Gor)
…vs. the first image that comes up in a search. (Rebecca Ferratti as Telena from Gor, also appears in Ace Ventura, Beverly Hills Cop II, and Three Amigos)
Reading randomly through the Goodreads reviews, I found Jason Pettus’s review of Outlaw, which linked to his review of Tarnsman, the first Gor novel, and why he started reading them. He had been the owner of the now defunct Chicago Center for Literature and Photography, author of a few books, but took on the noble task of experiencing all that is Gor. Or at least all he can stomach:
I’ve decided to finally tackle John Norman’s infamously sexist series of “Gor” S&M erotic fantasy novels, which I first developed a fascination for in 2006 when I spent a year playing Second Life, and met a group of literally hundreds of people (men and women, young and old) who were there specifically to persistently roleplay in a Gorean setting 24 hours a day, in some cases to supplement a quasi-Gorean lifestyle they were living in real life as well. I’m basically going to be reading as many of the books as I can stand before I get sick of it all (I doubt I will make it through all 34 [ed. now 35] of them)
Bonus: their song about the almost-nudity in the film.
Tom Servo: Hey fellows, there sure is a lot of skin in this movie. Mike: There sure is! Crow T. Robot: Yet despite all the acres of flesh in this film, I just can’t come up with a word to describe it. TS: Well I can! CTR: You can?! TS: Sure…
High Art ensues:
Update 30 Jan 2020:
I couldn’t help myself because I’m a 14-year-old boy:
Tom Servo: Iiiiiit’s Breastica boobical Chestica mamical Pendular globular fun.
Mike Nelson: Fleshical orbital Mombula scupula?
TS: Right, all of that’s the one!
Crow T. Robot: Is it guleal maximal Tushical crackula Buniona morning till night?
TS Well you’re absito glandular Fanny fantastical Mastica fleshular right!
All: It’s an aereological auto-erotical Tubular boobular joy. An exposular regional Vagical pouchular Fun for a girl and boy. Oh it’s sisimal dorsical Hung like a horsical Calavaligical ball!
CTR: The most bunula funula…
MTN: Fruita baloobula…
CTR: Frenchical toungular…
TS: Wabida boobular…
(unintelligible closing chorus while Tom Servo sings:)
