The Hounds of Amtor
On Mars, John Carter had Woola, who was the closest thing the Martians
had to an earthly dog.
But were there dogs on Venus?
The closest animals the reader finds to dogs are the hunting pack of
Skor of Morov. Carson and Duare encountered them after crossing the land
of Noobol through the large, dangerous forest. "I chanced to glance back
and saw a strange animal standing on the opposite rim watching us. It was
about the size of a German police dog, but there the similarity ceased.
It had a massive, curved beak remarkably similar to that of a parrot; and
its body was covered with feathers; but it was no bird, for it went on
four legs and had no wings. Forward of its two short ears were three horns,
one in front of either ear and the third growing midway between the others.
As it turned part way around to look back at something we could not see,
I saw that it had no tail. At a distance its legs and feet appeared bird-like."
(LV, Chapter 7)
The animals voiced "a hoarse, wailing scream" which Carson referred
to as "baying." The dogs also cackled. Later, they were said to be whistling.
So on Venus, it's the dog that whistles instead of the master.
When Carson fired an arrow at one, the others attacked and devoured
it. Even on Venus, it's a dog-eat-dog world.
However, they turned out to be animals called kazars, domesticated by
Skor, who showed up shortly; Skor used the kazars for hunting and protection.
Later, after Carson and newfound acquaintance Nalte escaped from Skor's
gloomy castle in search of the missing Duare, the duo had to hide when
they spotted Skor with his pack, apparently out hunting for all the escapees.
That's about the last we hear of any kind of "dog" in the Venus series
until Escape on Venus, and then ERB reintroduces them in a brief
humorous reference to what sounds a lot like Earth dogs.
In the land of Brokol, where men turn dark green with anger, and infants
grow on trees, Carson briefly discussed infant mortality. While those babies
were dangling from the branches, guypals (the same flying beasts which
ravaged the pools of polly-wog people in Mypos) take their toll. Insects
are no friend of the little green babies either.
But Carson reassured the readers:
"...as the Brokols are polygamous and both the ground and the females
ex-tremely fertile, there is little danger that race suicide will exterminate
"I might mention that no dogs are al-lowed in the orchards."
So, those inviting trees were not to have foreign substances sprayed
or trick-led onto them by any passing beasts who might desire to hike a
hind leg next to a tree.
No further description of thoese Brokolian "dogs" is provided, so one
might wonder: Are these "dogs" more of the kazar-like creatures, or, was
Loto-el-Hoo-Ganja Kum O Raj out walking her pregnant dog when she (along
with the animal) was mysteriously transported there from Brooklyn?
Or was Carson just inserting a little joke that ERB reported with a
I Still Live!
ERB's Martian series probably first comes to the mind of fans as the
place to look to find the phrase, and the concept, "I still live." Most
notably, Tara of Helium breathed the exact phrase on several occasions
as she "recalled the Spartan stubbornness of her sire in the face of certain
But the term is really characteristic of all Burroughs heroes and heroines,
and those on Venus are no exception.
In his rocket ship, speeding toward what he thought would be a death
either from the sun's increasing heat or a deadly collision with Venus
(PV, Chapter 3), Carson mused: "Yet I was excited. I cannot say
that I felt fear. I have no fear of death -- hat left me when my mother
died; but now that the great adventure loomed so close I was overwhelmed
by contemplation of it and the great wonder that it induced. What would
As it became more apparent that the ship would crash on Venus, Carson
got ready: "Even though I did not shrink from death... the urge to live
that is born with each of us compelled me to make the same preparations
to land that I should have had I successfully reached my original goal,
Later, on Venus itself, Carson had been swept overboard in a storm but
had managed to stay afloat and at last was contemplating a dangerous landing
on a rocky, surf-pounded shore. "As I drew nearer it, many things, some
of them quite irrelevant, passed through my mind; but some were relevant,
among them the Burial Service. It was not a nice time to think of this,
but then we cannot always control our thoughts; however, 'In the midst
of life we are in death' seemed wholly appropriate to my situation. By
twisting it a bit, I achieved something that contained the germ of hope
-- in the midst of death there is life. Perhaps --" (PV, 14)
His narration continued: "A great wave lifted me upon its crest and
carried me forward—the end had come! With the speed of a race horse it
swept me toward my doom; a welter of spume engulfed my head; I was twisted
and turned as a cork in a whirlpool; yet I struggled to lift my mouth above
the surface for an occasional gasp of air; I fought to live for a brief
moment longer, that I might not be dead when I was dashed by the merciless
sea against the merciless rocks -- thus dominating is the urge to live."
In Lost on Venus, Chapter 22, appropriately titled "To Live or
Die?", Carson and Nalte were surrounded by zangans -- beast men, called
by Carson "Human Tigers." Both thought they were about to die.
Carson said, "I am saving the last second in which to die. Until then
I shall not admit that there is ever to be a last second for me, and then
it will be too later to matter."
Nalte said she admired him for saying that, "But at least it will be
a quick death."
After Carson loosed his last arrow, Nalte said, "Hold me close. I am
not afraid to die, but I do not want to be alone...."
Replied Carson, "You are not dead yet, Nalte." He added, to ERB: "I
couldn't think of anything else to say. It must have sounded foolish at
such a time, but Nalte ignored it."
But luckily for both, they were shortly to be introduced to Ero Shan
from Hava-too who had ridden to their rescue with a company of men.
In Escape on Venus, Chapter 2, as Carson and Duare battled the
storm in the anotar, Duare said, "We have lived. Life can hold nothing
better for us than that which we have enjoyed. I am not afraid to die.
Are you, Carson?"
"That is something that I shall never know until it is too late," I
said, smiling down at her, "for while I live I shall never admit the possibility
In chapter 16, trying to escape the Myposans, Duare says, "We are trapped.
But at least we shall die together."
"We are not dead yet," Carson said, which is another way of saying "We
At the start of The Wizard of Venus, as Carson and Ero Shan embark
on their "misadventure," Carson speaks of life and death another way. "I
gamble with Death; my life is the stake. But I have a grand time, and so
far I have always beaten Death to the draw."
Edgar Rice Burroughs may or may not have known a lot about art, but
he certainly knew what he liked -- and didn't like -- took the opportunity
to say so through the experiences of his characters.
Burroughs used instances in the Venus series to present his low opinion
of modern art and architecture, and to promote his preference for art that
he thought of as a product of true beauty and imagination.
His first opportunity comes in Pirates of Venus when Carson goes
to visit Mintep, jong of Vepaja. As he awaited his audience, he admired
"While I waited there, I embraced the
op-portunity to study the elaborate carvings that surrounded the portal,
forming a frame fully five feet wide. The motif appeared historical, and
I could easily imag-ine that the various scenes depicted important events
in the life of a dynasty or a nation. The workmanship was exquisite, and
it required no stretch of the imagination to believe that each delicately
carved face was the portrait of some dead or living celebrity. There was
nothing grotesque in the delineation of the various figures, as is so often
the case in work of a similar character on earth, and only the borders
that framed the whole and separted contiguous plaques were conventional."
But, taken as a prisoner to the communist-like city of Kapdor, he had a
much dif-ferent experience: "There were a number of stone buildings facing
the streets along which I was conducted; but they were all box-like, unprepossessing
structures with no hint of artistic or imaginative genius. In that respect
they were reminiscent of the so-called modern architecture that was just
making itself felt before I left earth." (LV, Chapter 1)
In the next chapter, Carson is an escaped prisoner and viewing the city
on his own. He said, "I took the time now to investigate the room, on the
chance that it might contain something else of use or value to us in our
bid for liberty. It was a rather large room. An attempt had been made to
furnish it ornately, but the result was a monument to bad taste. It was
atro-cious." Even in the midst of seeking a weapon to help flee a dangerous
city, Carson took time to comment on the decor.
In Havatoo, Carson was much more impressed: "The gate itself was of
magnificent proportions and an architectural gem, bespeaking a high order
of civilization and culture. The city wall, of white limestone, was beautifully
carved with scenes that I took to portray the history of the city or of
the race that inhabited it, the work having apparently been conceived and
executed with the rarest taste; and these carvings extended as far as I
could see." (LV, Chapter 11)
ERB seems to have most of his fun with art -- good and bad -- in Escape
on Venus. In chapter 4, in Mypos, the city of amphibious people, "We
passed along narrow, crooked streets flanked by one storied houses built
of frame or limestone. The former were of roughly split planks fastened
to upright framework, the latter of carelessly hewn blocks of limestone.
The houses were as crooked as the streets. Evidently they had been built
by eye without benefit of plumb-line. The windows and doors were of all
sizes and shapes and all manner of crookedness. They might have been designed
by a modernist of my world, or by a child of five."
Fishy taste in art appreciation
Burroughs, via Carson, rubs it in with:
"The Myposans have little or no sense
of the artistic. They seem to be form and line blind. Their streets are
crooked; their houses are crooked. The only harmony that abounds is that
of disharmony. The palace of Tyros was no exception. The throne room was
a shapeless, polyangular space somewhere near the center of the palace.
In some places the ceiling was twenty feet high, in others not much more
than four. It was supported by columns of different sizes, irregularly
spaced. It might have been designed by a drunken surrealist afflicted with
a hebephrenic type of dementia praccox; which, of course, is not normal,
because surrealists are not always drunk." Chapter 14
After Duare rescued Carson from Bro-kol, they continued on their quest
for Sanara, and as they flew over the Venusan landscape, ERB, through the
voice of Carson, praised one of his favorite artists -- Nature itself.
This time, he used it as a comparative in getting in another dig at modern
"There is something strangely beautiful
about an Amtorian landscape, beautiful and unreal. Perhaps it is the soft,
pastel shades, that make it look more like a work of art than a creation
of Nature. Like a gorgeous sunset on Earth, it is something that could
never be reproduced by man. I sometimes think that man's inability to reproduce
the beauties of Nature has led to the abominable atrocities called modern
art." (EV, Chapter 30)
Perfect... but flawed
Then in the next chapter, in an unplanned stop in the city of Voo-ad,
Carson and Duare are treated to the Voo-adian idea of art. On a tour of
the city, their guide "...took us into an art shop where the work of the
best artists of Voo-ad was on exhibition. These people show remarkable
aptitude in reproducing natural objects with almost photographic fidelity,
but there was not the slightest indication of creative genius." ERB seems
like a hard art critic to please. However, we soon learn that the Voo-adians
know only one thing, and that's how to make exact copies of everything,
Says Ero Shan, while "hanging around" with Carson and Duare, "...they
have no creative genius in art or letters; they can copy beautifully, but
are without imagination, except of the lowest order."
So, ERB likes realistic art influenced by some imagination, but not
to the point of being grotesque.
In the final major land Carson and Duare visit in Escape, the
only art that is found is the art of war, followed by the art of the Pangan
girls, who manage to do what their men couldn't—artfully bring about the
defeat of the conquering Falsan army by getting the foolish troops drunk!
Finally in that book—people who exer-cise an effective form of art!
Venus: The Room of the
In 1882, Frank R. Stockton wrote the classic short story, "The Lady
or the Tiger," about a barbaric king who had devised an unusual method
of meting out "justice." Those in his disfavor were placed in an arena
and given a choice of two doors to open. One hid a lady, whom he would
wed and live free. The other contained a ravenous tiger, which would rend
him and eat him.
The "behind that door" tease has always been popular. A more recent
and less dangerous version was Monty Hall's television game show, "Let's
Make a Deal," with contestants given a choice of at least three doors,
behind which stood either a wonderful prize worth thousands of dollars,
or something much less desirable, such as a goat or a coop full of chickens.
Sometimes, after a contestant had chosen his door, but while it was still
closed, Monty would then introduce a fourth option, calling for a curtain
to be opened which would show a nice alternate prize, or offering a handful
of cash, and telling the contestant he could either have that or whatever
was behind his unopened door.
Thus, the agony of choice was amplified.
In the opening of Lost on Venus, Carson Napier was placed in The Room
of the Seven Doors in Kapdor, the Thorist-allied city in the land of Noobol.
The odds were pretty much against Carson, because only one of the seven
doors led to life, while different kinds of barbaric death lurked behind
the other six, including a tharban, the Amtorian equivalent of a tiger.
In addition, they added to the mix of choices by including a table with
seven drinks and seven plates of food. Six of the seven drinks would be
fatal, just as were six of the seven choices of doors. In the mat-ter of
the food, the odds were different: Six of the food dishes were edible;
only one was poisoned.
Still, the food didn't offer a very ap-pealing choice -- like playing
Russian rou-lette and spinning the cylinder of the revolver, hoping that
the chamber with the bullet did not come up.
At least one other obvious option presented itself, though: A rope ending
in a noose, suspended above the table on which the food sat. The rope wasn't
positioned to where he could manage to snap his neck, but where it would
allow him only to slowly strangle to death.
Well, suppose he decided to do nothing? Just sit there and wait for
His captors had thought of that, too, and after a time released all
manner of snakes, including one giant-size one, into the room to help hasten
His decision was to "go for it" and open one of the doors and to jam
it open with a spiked chair that had been left in the room to further torture
him. This proved to be the door behind which the tharban lurked but, to
Carson's good fortune, when it charged out it got into a battle to the
death with the big snake.
The snake won, then started for Carson once again. Having few alternatives,
he began ascending the rope, and here was exposed the flaw in the chamber
of horrors, a flaw which perhaps no one else had ever discovered. The rope
was attached at the top to a beam, and walking along the beam Carson came
to the walls at the top of the chamber and found an eighth door in The
Room of the Seven Doors, this one apparently left by construction crews,
and it led to the roof and freedom.
Was that a deus ex machina or a more satisfactory way of escaping
this dilemma? The reader must decide, but escape he did and Carson soon
was "lost on Venus," which turned out to be a better deal than losing his
There seems to be one other thing lacking in The Room of the Seven Doors.
There was no place for spectators to gloat over the agony of the victim.
At least, there were no spectators that were readily visible to Carson.
If there were secret viewing ports, they apparently weren't being used,
since no alarms were raised when Carson shinnied up the hangman's rope
and found his own way out of the vault of horror.
The jong of Kapdor had taken fiendish delight in telling Moosko about
the horror of The Room of the Seven Doors, so you would think these warped
people would have had a way of delighting in their torture by watching
it. But apparently not, and lucky for Carson they didn't!
Now for an exercise in "what if." Fans often wonder why Carson didn't
use his telepathic powers more often to get him out of pickles on Venus.
Probably because it would have made the stories a lot less exciting. Here's
a short little example I wrote back in 2007:
The Room with the Seven Doors
Carson Napier was trapped in The Room of the Seven Doors. Behind one
door lay freedom; behind the other six lay fates too horrible to contemplate.
"No problem," he smiled. "I'll just turn on my nifty little hallucinatory
He concentrated, and soon those outside the Room saw Carson standing
next to them, grinning triumphantly. Then, the vision disappeared.
"What's going on," demanded one guard.
"I don't know, let's check the room," said the other.
They opened the door to the Room and ran in; Carson, hiding behind the
door, conked them on their heads and then made his escape.