Robert Jordan's Wheel of Conan

CONAN THE MAGNIFICENT

by Robert Jordan

An online discussion about Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series and the current ongoing adaptation on Amazon prompted this review. Asked how I felt Robert Jordan's contributions fit in with the Conan Canon (canon doesn't need capitalization, but I love that it is an anagram), I realized I had a lot to say. Let's wade right into the battle, shall we?

Conan the Magnificent takes place mostly in Shadizar the Wicked, a city of Zamora famed for vice and corruption, and the nearby Kenzankian mountains. Given that Conan's creator Robert E. Howard intended his prehistoric Hyborian Age to be a forgotten era of history, most of these locations are ersatz versions of ancient historical locales. Zamora is supposed to be... Iran/Iraq? So, a proto-Persia then, making the Kenzankian mountains a stand-in for Afghanistan. Brythunia, which figures into the story peripherally, is Britain. In any case, this is how Jordan plays it. The fact that they all neighbor one another is explained by a pre-Cataclysmic lack of continental drift. For comparison, consider that Howard had his prehistoric Europe and Africa existing cheek by jowl with no Mediterranean Sea between them.

The prologue opens with the sinister Imalla Bazrakan whipping up the tribes of Kenzankian hillmen through a display of sorcerous power, specifically his control of a huge reptilian beast referred to as a drake. This is taken as a sign of favor by the "true gods" and used as encouragement to unite in a holy war against the "corrupt and decadent" city dwellers. So, in this context, Imalla basically means Imam and Bazrakan is trying to instigate a jihad. The "first publication in any form!" of Conan the Magnificent was a paperback in 1984, when simmering fears of radical Islam were starting to reach a boil. This makes the undertones of the story's locations and villain both timely and obvious, though perhaps not quite so obvious as they now seem post-9/11.

Anyway, Conan is still in the young thief phase of his career, taking jobs to pay off his gambling debts and to afford his room in the seedy tavern where he stays. The place has its perks, however. His favorite whore, though nowhere does Jordan use such a coarse term, refuses to take Conan's money for her services. He's just that good. With Conan doing the thief bit one might think he would come into possession of the story's MacGuffin, two huge rubies called the Eyes of Fire, and have various interested (and murderous) parties howling after him. Instead, much of the plot is driven by Conan, and everyone else, trying to obtain them. The barbarian somewhat randomly bumps into most all the key players before a little trip into the mountains, Tamira the beautiful, young thief and Jondra the voluptuous, high-spirited noblewoman with a passion for hunting chief among them.

Seductive and "well-rounded" as they are, both women are still -- ahem -- "unknown to man." Conan dispatches with their maidenhoods even more easily than he does the monster in the book's final battle, and he kills that thing pretty easily. This is only after having to juggle both women while on Jondra's hunting expedition, though he never does return to the noblewoman's bed once he takes up with Tamira. One assumes this is part of Conan's oft-mentioned "rude code of chivalry."

Jordan does a more than passable job of things, and all of his later strengths in the Wheel of Time series are already found here: attention to detail, multiple plot threads, various locales and cultures, and mostly capable, if somewhat man-obsessed, female protagonists. Of course, there is also plenty of heaving bosoms, feminine rivalry, and men who are sure they will never understand women. By the final act, Tamira and Jondra are both suitably damsel-fied (and naked). Rescued from the reptilian drake by Conan and Eldran, a Brythunian latecomer to the story, Tamira returns to Shadizar with Conan and Jondra is hauled off to slavery in Brythunia as comeuppance for robbing Eldran. In the final few paragraphs, Conan (and thereby the reader) is assured by Tamira that Jondra is not quite so unwilling as she seems, and will mostly likely be freed and even married to Eldran before the year is out. Make of all that what you will.

As for how it fits in with canon? Just fine really. Conan is still young and early in his career as an adventurer. No specific references are made to any stories which would help the longtime reader orient this tale within the larger framework of Conan's saga. It likely falls after "Tower of the Elephant", but most Conan stories do. His inexperience with using bow and arrow is briefly noted in one scene, though I am blanking on any specific Howard stories where Conan makes a good showing as an archer. He learned the skill in the Turanian cavalry, meaning this is before the lamentable Conan and the Spider-God.

What does stand out are the repeated references to Conan's "ancient" broadsword, which roots this tale in the expanded DeCamp-Carter mythos. Unlike hordes of other fantasy/sword and sorcery heroes, Conan has never been associated with one special blade, magical or otherwise. Therefore, the many references to the "ancient" broadsword must be a non-specific callback to "The Thing in the Crypt" by Lin Carter. In that tale, a young, fugitive Conan escapes a pack of wolves and discovers the remains of an ancient king complete with a huge broadsword. He has to fight the undead king for possession of the blade, and then promptly uses it to slay the wolves. If that sounds familiar, it is because this was the first short story in the first volume of the 70s Conan paperback revival. Likewise, it was also a prominently featured scene in the original Conan movie (minus the undead king trying to reclaim his sword). But it isn't Conan's broadsword that slays the beast. Bazrakan's monster is impervious to ordinary spears, swords, and arrows. Eldran's mystic blade, possibly meant to be the later Excalibur, delivers the killing stroke.

As you read the story, you could be forgiven for assuming Eldran is doomed and that Conan will take possession of the blade. What actually happens is Eldran calls an audible, tosses his sword to Conan, and one quick stab kills the monster, which then collapses upon and crushes Imalla Bazrakan in a rushed and honestly underwhelming final battle. Presumably, Conan's "ancient" sword could not be equivalent to Eldran's mystic blade or the reader might wonder why such an enchantment was never mentioned before and never since.

This isn't a bad book overall. It is probably better than a great many of the Conan franchise novels. Eleven-year-old me was less discriminating. More Conan was never a bad thing, and I probably loved the scattered bits of salaciousness and watered down S+M. Unfortunately, it isn't particularly memorable either, evidenced by my having to reread it for this review. If it were one of the original Howard stories, I could have probably done most of it from memory.

I'm glad Robert Jordan moved on to write the bigger and better, though still flawed, Wheel of Time. Conan the Magnificent isn't bad, but it isn't Robert E. Howard -- nothing really is. If you want a truly magnificent Conan tale try the much shorter and much better "People of the Black Circle".