Riding down the road at evening with the stars or steed and shoon That he himself is in every one of them." 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 is Howard's mentor and friend, the legendary father of pulp fiction H.P. 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.Īlways 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. 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.Īt 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. Very early on, Howard steeped himself in the folklore and history of the southwest, the Rio Grande valley.
The son of one ofthe southwest's most prominent pioneer physicians, Howard's youthĬoincided with the last days of Americas frontier culture, a fact that would forever influence him and his stories. Robert Ervin Howard was born in Peaster, Texas in 1906. This is reflected in my writings, too, for when I begin a tale of old times, I always find myself instinctively arrayed on the side of the barbarian, against the powers of organized civilization.- Robert E. Always am I the barbarian, the skin-clad, tousle-haired, light-eyed wild man, armed with a rude ax or sword, fighting the elements and wild beasts, or grappling with armored hosts marching with the tread of civilized discipline, from fallow fruitful lands and walled cities.
With the exception of one dream, I am never, in these dreams of ancient times, a civilized man. I have lived in the Southwest all my life, yet most of my dreams are laid in cold, giant lands of icy wastes and gloomy skies, and of wild, wind-swept fens and wilderness over which sweep great sea-winds, and which are inhabited by shock-headed savages with light fierce eyes.
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