Kull: Exile of Atlantis (47 page)

A series of letters to H. P. Lovecraft illuminates the source for many of the events depicted in the story. In June 1931, Howard briefly summed up his interests in the Bible to Lovecraft:

As for Biblical history, my real interest begins and ends with the age of Saul, outside of snatches here and there, as in the case of Samson. I’m sure you’re right in your theory that numbers of Aryans must have drifted into the near East of that age, and as far as I can see, the days of Saul and David represent an Aryan phase in the racial-life of Israel. (REH to H. P. Lovecraft, ca. June 1931, unpublished)

He had expressed much the same sentiment in an earlier letter:

I cannot think of Saul, David, Abner and Joab as Jews, not even as Arabs; to me they must always seem like Aryans, like myself. Saul, in particular, I always unconsciously visualize as a Saxon king, of those times when the invaders of Britain were just beginning to adopt the Christian religion. (REH to HPL, ca. February 1931, unpublished)

This seems to have been an important issue with Howard. Tevis Clyde Smith, in the notes for his projected Howard biography, wrote:

Hated Disliked Samuel and Respected Saul–(“So Far the Poet….,”
Report on a Writing Man & Other Reminiscences of Robert E. Howard,
Necronomicon Press, 1991, p. 36)

Howard even wrote a poem, “Dreaming in Israel,” on the subject.

In the February letter to Lovecraft, Howard went on to elaborate on his admiration for King Saul:

I have always felt a deep interest in Israel in connection with Saul. Poor devil! A pitiful and heroic figure, set up as a figure-head because of his weight and the spread of his shoulders, and evincing an expected desire of being king in more than name–a plain, straight-forward man, unversed in guile and subtlety, flanked and harassed by scheming priests, beleaguered by savage and powerful enemies, handicapped by a people too wary and backward in war–what wonder that he went mad toward the end? He was not fitted to cope with the mysteries of king-craft, and he had too much proud independence to dance a puppet on the string of the high-priest–there he sealed his own doom. When he thwarted the snaky Samuel, he should have followed it up by cutting that crafty gentleman’s throat–but he dared not. The hounds of Life snapped ever at Saul’s heels; a streak of softness made him human but made him less a king…Samuel had him in a strangle-hold; not only did the high-priest have the people behind him, but he played on Saul’s own fears and superstitions and in the end, ruined him and drove him to madness, defeat and death. The king found himself faced by opposition he could not beat down with his own great sword–foes that he could not grasp with his hands. Life became a grappling with shadows, a plunging at blind, invisible bars. He saw the hissing head of the serpent beneath each mask of courtier, priest, concubine and general. They squirmed, venom-ladened beneath his feet, plotting his downfall; and he towered above them, yet must perforce bend an ear close to the dust, striving to translate their hisses. But for Samuel, vindictive, selfish and blindly shrewd as most priests are, Saul had risen to his full stature–as it was, he was a giant chained…To one man Saul could always turn–Abner, a soldier and a gentleman in the fullest sense of the word–too honorable, too idealistic for his own good. Saul and Abner were worth all that cringing treacherous race to which they belonged by some whim of chance.

Most of these sentences echo the general tone and plot of
The Shadow Kingdom
, where the snake metaphor has given way to actual snake-like characters. They also echo some of Kull’s musings: “As he sat upon his throne in the Hall of Society and gazed upon the courtiers, the ladies, the lords, the statesmen, he seemed to see their faces as things of illusion, things unreal, existent only as shadows and mockeries of substance. Always he had seen their faces as masks, but before he had looked on them with contemptuous tolerance, thinking to see beneath the masks shallow, puny souls, avaricious, lustful, deceitful, a vague horror that lurked beneath the smooth masks. While he exchanged courtesies with some nobleman or councilor he seemed to see the smiling face fade like smoke and the frightful jaws of a serpent gaping there” (p. 41). The “one man” to whom Saul can always turn evokes of course Brule, the spear-slayer. The only notable difference between the two “stories” resides in the absence of an equivalent to the “snaky Samuel”; in Howard’s story, the snake-characters are indistinguishable from one another.

Upon learning of the acceptance of
The Shadow Kingdom
in September 1927, Howard reacted in a typical fashion and almost immediately proceeded to write another story starring the same character. (Howard had completed
Wolfshead
in July 1925, the same month the first story starring de Montour,
In the Forest of Villefère
, was published. A few months later, he would repeat this, completing the second Solomon Kane story,
Skulls in the Stars
, upon news of the sale of the first,
Red Shadows
.) This time the writing took much less time than for the first story: Howard wrote an eight-page draft, polished it by rewriting the last two pages of the story and sent the result to Weird Tales. That second Kull story,
The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune
, was quickly accepted by Farnsworth Wright for $20. Of that story, generally held in high esteem by contemporary as well as modern readers, Howard offered the following comment to his friend Clyde Smith: “more of the Shadow Kingdom, occult and mystical, vague and badly written; this is the deepest story I ever tried to write and I got out of my depth.”

It was some weeks before Howard would return to writing Kull stories. In the first months of 1928, he began what could have been a serial-length Kull story, but abandoned it at the eighteenth page (see p. 65). Howard probably realized that his story was rambling and unconvincing, relegated it to his archives, and immediately began work on another Kull story, which was to be titled
Delcardes’ Cat
. The history of the composition of this tale is worth detailing: Howard wrote it in two sessions. He titled his first draft
Delcardes’ Cat
, and only had the idea for the character that was to become Thulsa Doom as he was writing page 22 of a draft that runs 25 pages. The introduction of the new character (whose name was initially Thulses Doom) required a few modifications in the earlier parts of the tale, which of course lacked any references to Thulsa–or Thulses–Doom. Howard, in a particularly unprofessional move, didn’t even rewrite his story, making all his changes on his first draft, and retitled the tale
The Cat and the Skull
, whose “Skull” is an explicit reference to Thulsa Doom. The story survives as an original (with the modifications) and a carbon (which shows the first stage of the story).

The story is rather poor and suffers from a lack of cohesiveness, which is not surprising given the late addition of Thulsa Doom. The character of Kuthulos is introduced as a “slave,” but later on Tu, the chancellor, suddenly “remembers” that Kuthulos is “a slave, aye, but the greatest scholar and the wisest man in all the Seven Empires.” In fact, it is quite probable that Howard first intended Kuthulos to be the villain of the story, only discarding the idea when he came up with Thulsa Doom. Last, it took Howard several pages before he gave a name to the slave; and it appears, upon close scrutiny of the typescript, that his original name was not Kuthulos, but Kathulos. Not surprisingly, the story was rejected by Weird Tales, apparently to Howard’s surprise, if this is indeed the unnamed story he is alluding to in
Post Oaks and Sand Roughs
(p. 133). Undaunted, Howard wrote yet another tale featuring Kull, the second and last featuring Kuthulos:
The Screaming Skull of Silence
. The story was quickly submitted to Weird Tales and likewise rejected.

After a false start and two unsold tales, it would be several months before Howard would return to writing Kull stories. In the meantime, he met with commercial success in the acceptance of his longest story to date.
Skullface
(Howard’s original form of the title) was written during the second half of 1928, and was accepted for $300 later in the year. It would be hard not to notice that in this story, Stephen Costigan and John Gordon are opposed to the deadly “Kathulos of Atlantis,” whose physical description matched that of Thulsa Doom. Kathulos/Kuthulos had disappeared from the Kull stories only to re-enter Howard’s fiction via another story.

As 1928 was drawing to a close, Howard once again returned to Kull.
The Striking of the Gong
was the first Kull story not submitted to Weird Tales, but was sent instead to Argosy;
The Altar and the Scorpion
, a short story in which Kull is only mentioned, was submitted to Weird Tales. Both stories failed to sell.
The Curse of the Golden Skull
, also barely mentioning Kull, and probably composed in late 1928 or early 1929, likewise met rejection.

The metaphysical tone of the early Kull stories echoed Howard’s philosophical delvings of the time. In January 1928, Howard was writing Clyde Smith: “The subject of psychology is the one I am mainly interested in these days.” The questions of reality and identity are central to those stories which, due to their short length, writing style, and atmosphere, tend more toward the philosophical fable than the kind of fantasy stories Farnsworth Wright would have bought.

This passage from a letter to Clyde Smith, for example, resonates with passages in
The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune
and
The Striking of the Gong
:

Life is Power, Life is Electricity. You and I are atoms of power, cogs in the wheels of the Universal system. Life is not predestined, that is, the trivial affairs of our lives are not, but we have certain paths to follow and we cannot escape them…we are sparks of stardust, atoms of unknown power, powerless in ourselves but making up the whole of some great power that uses us as ruthlessly as fire uses fuel. We are parts of an entity, futile in ourselves. We are merely phases of electricity; electrons endlessly vibrating between the magnetic poles of birth and death. We cannot escape these trails in which our paths lie. We do not, as individual entities, really exist, we do not live. There is no life, there is no existence; there is simply vibration. What is a life but an uncompleted gesture, beginning in oblivion and ending in oblivion?…There is no beginning, nor will there ever be an end to the thing. (REH to Tevis Clyde Smith, ca. February 1928)

As a matter of fact, all of Howard’s letters to Tevis Clyde Smith from early 1928 contain lengthy passages on philosophy, religion, psychology and similar interests. Howard was undergoing a period of profound introspection, that very naturally found its way into his fiction. Common to all the themes alluded to in the letters is the central motif of identity, the relation of the self to the universe.

At any rate, in the fourteen months that had followed the sale of
The Shadow Kingdom
and
The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune
, Howard had begun or completed six Kull stories, hadn’t succeeded in selling any of them, and none had yet appeared in print.

Between late 1928 and mid-1929, Howard would not complete another Kull story. That he had not decided to cease his efforts in spite of these failures is attested by the two aborted stories he attempted to complete in the first months of the year.

There is little to be said about
The Black City
, a three page fragment that takes Brule and Kull away from Valusia to the city of Kamula. The other, untitled fragment, however, is particularly interesting. In April 1929, an overjoyed Howard wrote Tevis Clyde Smith:

On my return here I found a returned ms. from Adventure, with a line or two from the assistant editor, telling me to submit some more of my work, and soon after returning I got a letter from Argosy, accepting that story that I told you about…The day after getting that letter I got a check from them for $100. Also a letter from Weird Tales with the advance sheets of a story appearing in the next issue. Farnsworth said he intended publishing a sonnet in the next issue after that and then “The Shadow Kingdom” which is a $100 story, and after that a shorter story [
The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune
]. I believe he’s paving the way to publish the serial I sold him, but of course I may be wrong.