At Planet Stories, we're all about recovering cherished pieces of SF's past; treasures that have fallen between the cracks and been forgotten by modern readers, despite their merit and importance to the genre. But one of the problems with history is that it happened in the past... and the past is rarely clean. In order to unearth the gems, you have to dig up some serious dirt. So let's get messy.
Let's talk about racism.
One of the issues we've run up against time and again with Planet Stories, especially with stories from back in the 1930s, is the use of racist language and ideas. Even beyond the standard prejudicial themes and cliches of the day—the fact that the "advanced" races were always white, and all the dark-skinned characters were described by their bright white teeth (seriously, try finding one where that isn't mentioned)—pulp writers were fascinated by the issue of race. Remember, this is decades before the Civil Rights Movement, a time when the oldest readers might still remember legalized slavery.
Otis Adelbert Kline was no different. Both of his novels published by Planet Stories, The Swordsman of Mars and the newly available Outlaws of Mars, deal extensively with the issue of race, and for Outlaws, the entire plot depends on it: a planetary race riot between the white-skinned rulers, their dark servitors, and the menacing yellow men from another world. The patois of Dr. Morgan's faithful African-American servant, Plato, is also likely to make the unsuspecting modern reader cringe—for in this blatant (if sympathetic) caricature, Kline paints a picture of a past most Americans would like to forget.
Yet, as Joe Lansdale points out in his introduction, you can't hold these stories to modern standards of political correctness—and in fact to do so would be a disservice to the author. In his words:
Kline's work is of its time. Non-white races suffer under his hand, though Plato, the black servant of Dr. Morgan, is treated kindly enough, if in an unintentionally condescending way. Still, Kline, like Burroughs, would have probably been considered liberal in their times. They could at least appreciate the fact that someone of a different color could be brave and loyal and worthy of the mantle of humanity. Even Jack London had problems with that, and no doubt he is a more celebrated author.
"Worthy of the mantle of humanity." A phrase so obvious to most of us today that it seems offensive, yet Joe is absolutely right. At the time, belief in racial equality was a bold position in the States.
Which is why at Planet Stories, we feel that it's important to give you the whole manuscripts, unabridged and unabashed. In the past, publishers uncomfortable with content sometimes cut drastically from older books (especially Kline) in order to sanitize for their new era. We say: let the works stand on their own and speak for themselves. H. P. Lovecraft used the N-word. Robert E. Howard had some (today) scandalously negative portrayals of non-white races. Yet this is history, and to redact history is to lose a vital part of how we got to where we are.
In 2009, with the United States' first black president in office, I can read these books and separate the prejudices of the time from the stories themselves, and I have faith that Planet Stories readers will do the same. If anything, I think these books are all the more significant for their transgressions—a glimpse, not just of science fiction's history, but America's past as a whole.
One of the greatest strengths of the Planet Stories book line is that, in addition to republishing SF classics by some brilliant and historically significant authors, we have the chance to get other amazing authors to introduce them. People like F. Paul Wilson, George Lucas, C. J. Cherryh, Ben Bova, Samuel R. Delany—it never fails to blow my mind every time I see their names in my email inbox. Through their introductions, these authors get to contextualize the forgotten literary heroes that influenced them most and help usher their teachers back into print, the better to educate the next generation of science fiction and fantasy authors.
Which, really, makes me wonder why I'm saying anything at all about these books, when I could get out of the way and let them do it for me. So without further ado, here's an excerpt from Bubba Ho-Tep creator Joe R. Lansdale on why Otis Adelbert Kline's The Outlaws of Mars deserves to be in your shopping cart as we speak:
The Outlaws of Mars was written in the thirties and appeared in Argosy Weekly. It is very much in the Burroughs interplanetary format. A young American, Jerry Morgan, already skilled in the ways of combat due to his time in the army, goes to the home of his uncle, Dr. Morgan, and is after a little too much explanation about telepathy and machinery, transported, via machine, to Mars. The reason for Jerry's departure is embarrassment of a sort, having to do with a woman. Though the event is never fully explained, it appears Jerry has allowed a lie about himself to exist to keep from compromising the aforementioned young lady. So, our noble, romantic, and very Victorian hero flees our world for one of adventure on Mars. Upon his arrival, there is enough action for three novels: some court intrigue, treachery, weird inhabitants, sword fighting, and one hot mama named Junia.
Frankly, the plot is of little consequence, and is not dissimilar from those of the Burroughs novels, or of any sword and planet adventure written by Kline himself. Movement is the name of the game, and Kline provides that in the proverbial spades. There is hardly a moment to breathe, and the only time the novel bogs down is when Kline tries to justify his plot with too much explanation. When Kline is moving the story forward, bringing on the action, keeping us tightly wrapped up in his warm and bloody dream, we are with him all the way. It is only when he pauses to explain that the cocoon we were so tightly wrapped in breaks open and we fall out.
These moments are few, and Kline is more than willing to rewrap us, and we are more than willing to let him. There is plenty of color and beauty and a sweeping approach to story that reminds me of the cinema. In fact, with the popularity of such films as Star Wars and Indiana Jones, I would have thought by now, considering special effects have improved to the point of being almost as incredible as our most astounding dreams, that Burroughs and possibly Kline's characters would have been updated and filmed. Certainly, it's this color and sweep and majesty of background that make these stories so damned appealing; they are like movies in the head.
New Blog Entries
