“Tanar of Pellucidar” is a jaunty romp through the center of the Earth, courtesy of Edgar Rice Burroughs, that maestro of pulp fiction who seems never to have met an adventure too wild to pen. As one plunges into this tale, it becomes clear that Burroughs wasn’t just in the business of writing stories; he was crafting a veritable playground of the imagination.
At the heart of our tale is Tanar, a strapping young chap from the internal world of Pellucidar. This hidden continent inside the Earth is a place where the sun perpetually hangs in the middle of the sky, and the concept of time is about as reliable as a chocolate teapot. Pellucidar itself is a wonder—a geological anomaly and a zoological circus rolled into one. Dinosaurs roam freely, mingling with prehistoric men and other fantastical creatures that defy the fossil record.
Tanar, our protagonist, is not just a resident of this wild world; he’s a captive in the clutches of the Korsars—pirates who are as dastardly as they are dirty. These are villains with no regard for personal hygiene or moral integrity, making them delightfully despicable antagonists.
Now, our hero isn’t just about brawn; he’s also got brains and a heart to boot. He’s the quintessential Burroughs protagonist—resourceful, rugged, and remarkably good at escaping from tight spots. His escapades are peppered with encounters that range from thrilling to downright ludicrous. He’s got to save his beloved Stellara, a damsel who, refreshingly, often participates in her own rescues.
The narrative whisks us from subterranean forests to islands floating in underground seas, from mammoth hunts to prison breaks. Each chapter ends on a cliffhanger that’s more gripping than a prehistoric predator’s jaws. It’s clear that Burroughs was tossing everything but the kitchen sink into the narrative, and why not? When you have an entire world inside the Earth to play with, the only limit is your imagination.
The dialogue is a delightful mix of the earnest and the absurd, often tipping into what one might kindly call ‘cheesily dramatic.’ Characters proclaim their feelings with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and the villains are as subtly evil as a silent movie baddie. One can almost see them twirling their mustaches.
Of course, no review of this tale would be complete without a hat-tip to the pseudo-science that Burroughs employs with the reckless abandon of a child in a candy store. The physics of Pellucidar, involving a stationary sun and a bizarre method of gravity, are so playfully ludicrous that they loop back around to being endearing. It’s clear that Burroughs wasn’t aiming for a Nobel in Physics; he was shooting for the Moon—or perhaps, more accurately, for the center of the Earth.
In essence, “Tanar of Pellucidar” is a grand escapade that invites readers not to think too deeply but to strap in and enjoy the ride. It’s a testament to Burroughs’ ability to craft a narrative that’s as entertaining as it is wildly imaginative. As you turn the pages, you can’t help but surrender to the sheer joy of storytelling, served up with a side of preposterous possibilities. So, dear reader, dive into the depths of Pellucidar. Adventure awaits, and it’s gloriously absurd.
