Recompense -- Robert E Howard

(Poem #261) Recompense I have not heard lutes beckon me, nor the brazen bugles call, But once in the dim of a haunted lea I heard the silence fall. I have not heard the regal drum, nor seen the flags unfurled, But I have watched the dragons come, fire-eyed, across the world. I have not seen the horsemen fall before the hurtling host, But I have paced a silent hall where each step waked a ghost. I have not kissed the tiger-feet of a strange-eyed golden god, But I have walked a city's street where no man else had trod. I have not raised the canopies that shelter revelling kings, But I have fled from crimson eyes and black unearthly wings. I have not knelt outside the door to kiss a pallid queen, But I have seen a ghostly shore that no man else has seen. I have not seen the standards sweep from keep and castle wall, But I have seen a woman leap from a dragon's crimson stall, And I have heard strange surges boom that no man heard before, And seen a strange black city loom on a mystic night-black shore. And I have felt the sudden blow of a nameless wind's cold breath, And watched the grisly pilgrims go that walk the roads of Death, And I have seen black valleys gape, abysses in the gloom, And I have fought the deathless Ape that guards the Doors of Doom. I have not seen the face of Pan, nor mocked the Dryad's haste, But I have trailed a dark-eyed Man across a windy waste. I have not died as men may die, nor sin as men have sinned, But I have reached a misty sky upon a granite wind. -- Robert E Howard

For those of you who have never heard of Robert E Howard, he was to
swords-and-sorcery what Tolkien was to high fantasy. His Conan books
practically defined the genre for later authors; he stands along with
Tolkien as one of the founders of modern fantasy.

Unlike Tolkien, he did not intersperse his novels and stories with poetry;
nonetheless many of his poems clearly inhabit the same general fantasy
universe that his fiction does. Today's, for instance, deals with the
age-old theme of a barbarian commenting on civilized life; there is, of
course, little doubt as to where Howard's own sympathies lie.

As for the poem itself; as befits a barbarian's outpourings, it is more
energetic than polished; a somewhat disconnected sequence of highly vivid
images expressed in strong, masculine couplets[1]. The imagery is, of
course, instantly familiar to anyone who has read any sword-and-sorcery
fantasy; while it does at times appear cliched I have to wonder how much of
that was due to Howard's influence on the field.

  [1] masculine rhymes are those that rhyme on the final syllable only.

Then again, long exposure to fantasy has meant that even the triter phrases
are laden with associations, and thus evocative when set against the
backdrop of the genre. Which is only appropriate, given how heavily the
genre was influenced by Howard - it has in a sense helped lend his own works
a certain measure of timelessness. I do have a few complaints against the
poem - the occasional break in scansion, a few words I wish he'd avoided,
and especially the abruptness of the ending - but they're far outweighed by
the sheer cornucopia of strange and wondrous images.

m.

Biography:

The Britannica, oddly enough, doesn't deign to list either Howard or Conan.
There is also (somewhat ironically) a lot more on the net about Conan than
about Howard; still, I did manage to find the following biography:

  http://www.spe.sony.com/classics/www/misc/about.html

Here's an excerpt, but do follow up te link, if only for the Howard quote at
the beginning:

  Robert Ervin Howard was born in Peaster, Texas in 1906. The son of one of
  the southwest's most prominent pioneer physicians, Howard's youth
  coincided with the last days of Americas frontier culture, a fact that
  would forever influence him and his stories.

  Very early on, Howard steeped himself in the folklore and history of the
  southwest, the Rio Grande valley. He became fascinated with the legendary
  virility and strength of the pioneers and delighted in the innate poetry
  found in the exploration of virgin land.

  At the age of 15, he began writing his yarns, tales of savage men living
  outside the rest of society, battling against other men, for land and
  pride. Though the circumstances and settings changed, the hero, or
  anti-hero, was always somehow a shade of the same creature--part savage,
  part nobleman, part poet, part pioneer--not unlike Howard himself.

  Always described as an imposingly tall, dark, brawny man with piercing
  blue eyes, Howard's characters were as much himself as they were pulled
  from his extraordinary imagination. Howard's mentor and friend, the
  legendary father of pulp fiction H.P. Lovecraft, described him as "a lover
  of the simpler, older world of barbarian and pioneer days, when courage
  and strength took the place of subtlety and stratagem, and when a hardy,
  fearless race battled and bled...the real secret [of Howards stories] is
  that he himself is in every one of them..."

Links:

  [broken link] http://pages.ripco.net/~bbb/howard.html is a pretty comprehensive Howard
  site.

  http://collins.wssnet.com/gentzel/reh/index.html is worth a look, too

  Howard fandom is alive and well - see
  [broken link] http://www.robjob.com/rehupa/samples.html

  and the web ring at [broken link] http://markbutler.8m.com/conanwebring.htm