Recommendations... of a sort

alexandra.bolintineanu at alexandra.bolintineanu at
Tue Oct 5 23:02:49 EDT 1999

To all those who enjoy the occasional contemplation of truly and
profoundly abysmal writing:  check out Edgar Rice Burroughs' "Thuvia, the
Maid of Mars" (stupendous-sounding, isn't it), at

Here's a tasty tidbit:



Upon a massive bench of polished ersite beneath the gorgeous blooms of a
giant pimalia a
woman sat. Her shapely, sandalled foot tapped impatiently upon the
jewel-strewn walk that
wound beneath the stately sorapus trees across the scarlet sward of the
royal gardens of Thuvan
Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, as a dark-haired, red-skinned warrior bent low
toward her, whispering
heated words close to her ear. 

"Ah, Thuvia of Ptarth," he cried, "you are cold even before the fiery
blasts of my consuming
love! No harder than your heart, nor colder is the hard, cold ersite of
this thrice happy bench
which supports your divine and fadeless form! Tell me, O Thuvia of Ptarth,
that I may still
hope--that though you do not love me now, yet some day, some day, my
princess, I--" 

The girl sprang to her feet with an exclamation of surprise and
displeasure. Her queenly head
was poised haughtily upon her smooth red shoulders. Her dark eyes looked
angrily into those of
the man. 

"You forget yourself, and the customs of Barsoom, Astok," she said. "I
have given you no right
thus to address the daughter of Thuvan Dihn, nor have you won such a

The man reached suddenly forth and grasped her by the arm. 

"You shall be my princess!" he cried. "By the breast of Issus, thou shalt,
nor shall any other
come between Astok, Prince of Dusar, and his heart's desire. Tell me that
there is another, and I
shall cut out his foul heart and fling it to the wild calots of the dead

I swear I made up none of it.


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