Leigh Brackett’s “Queen of the Martian Catacombs” is the guilty pleasure reading you’ve always wanted without quite knowing you wanted it. Incredibly, it effortlessly combines many awesome things together at once in a way that would be impossible to imagine without actually reading it:
- Savagery that explodes off the page just like in Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Tarzan.
- Contempt for decadent civilizations that explodes off the page just like in Robert E. Howard’s Conan.
- Scintillating femme fatales and genuinely appealing feminine foils that explode off the page just like in A. Merritt’s best novels.
It is AWESOME.
And it even packs in the sort of “you’re my only hope moment” that would energize the opening act of Star Wars. That’s not much of a surprise coming from the woman that would ultimately be tapped to write a script for The Empire Strikes Back.
What is surprising is seeing the manifold layers…
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