by Brian Kunde

Given the attention paid here last July to the various biographies of Robert E. Howard published over the years, I thought it might not be amiss to address the very earliest. No, I don’t mean Glenn Lord’s The Last Celt (1976), or even L. Sprague and Catherine Crook de Camp’s Dark Valley Destiny (1983), but rather L. Sprague de Camp’s The Miscast Barbarian: A Biography of Robert E. Howard (1906-1936) (Saddle River, N. J., Gerry de la Ree, 1975). Dr. Darlage’s fairly comprehensive survey notwithstanding, it was this modest forty-four page work, rather than Lord’s bio-bibliographical book, that represents the true “foundational tome” of Howard biographies.

In so saying I in no way intend to overstate the importance of this book, let alone diminish the standing of the greater treatments that followed—merely to note that it was the first of its kind. It was, indeed, a modest contribution, and suffers by comparison. Issued as it was in the immediate wake of de Camp’s magisterial (and massive) biography of H. P. Lovecraft, it suffers by comparison to that book, as well. And yet, at the time, it likely appeared to the author to represent the limit of what could be told of Howard’s then relatively ill-documented life. Because even then there was an embarrassment of sources available on Lovecraft, both primary and secondary. On Howard? Not so much.

De Camp had previously written of Howard’s life in two articles, “Memories of R. E. H.,” in Amra, v. 2, no. 38, February 1966 (reprinted in The Conan Reader, 1968, and The Blade of Conan, May 1979), and “Literary Swordsmen & Sorcerers: Skald in the Post Oaks,” in Fantastic Stories, v. 20, no. 5, June 1971, the first in his series in that magazine on “Literary Swordsmen & Sorcerers” (reprinted in The Spell of Conan, July 1980, and The Treasure of Tranicos, also July 1980). Both of these pieces incorporated some of the earliest serious research ever done into Howard’s life. Oh, there had been earlier attempts to assemble the facts of the man’s existence, but this may well have represented the first involving any real footwork. For “Memories,” as de Camp notes in his Introduction to The Miscast Barbarian; “In 1965, I visited Howard’s home town of Cross Plains, Texas, and interviewed some of those who had known Howard.” (p. [3])

But productive as his trip may have been, de Camp was frustrated in getting this research into print. “Memories” constituted his initial effort, extended and developed more fully in “Skald.” However, “[e]ditorial policies [at Fantastic Stories] made me cut this original article to half its length. Ever since, I have hoped for a chance to publish the entire manuscript, adding such additional facts about Howard as I have picked up in the meantime.” (p. [3]) Gerry de la Ree, publisher of The Miscast Barbarian, gave him that chance.

Gereux de Forrest (“Gerry”) de la Ree (1924-1993) of New Jersey was well known for fine printing. He was an early and prominent speculative fiction fan and fanzine publisher who blossomed into a major collector and dealer in SF and SF art. His de la Ree small press imprint issued numerous art books in the 70s and 80s showcasing the art of Clark Ashton Smith, Hannes Bok, Edd Cartier, and particularly Virgil Finlay (his personal collection of Finlay’s art was unmatched). He had a real life, too, as a sports writer and editor of the Bergen Evening Record from 1944-1972. but that’s quite aside from our focus here.

How did de Camp connect with de la Ree? Well, the two were already on each other’s radar. De la Ree had rendered de Camp some assistance on his Lovecraft biography a couple years before, in return for which he was presented with the “second draft” of the Howard piece. (De la Ree, Gerry, letter to L. Sprague de Camp, January 21, 1975) The context indicates this must have been either the original or a copy of “Skald.” They had also worked together on a project similar to The Miscast Barbarian, only on Lovecraft rather than Howard. This was The Normal Lovecraft (De La Ree, 1973), by H.P.L.’s sometime correspondent and collaborator Wilfred Branch Talman. It was a memoir rather than a biography, and a much shorter piece—de Camp and de la Ree contributed brief pieces of their own to fill it out—but physically, the book was a near twin to the Howard project. Talman’s memoir, incidentally, would later be reprinted in the Peter Cannon-edited compilation Lovecraft Remembered (Arkham House, 1998).

Thereafter, de Camp continued to work on “Skald,” resulting in the “revised and expanded ms.” he wanted to publish, and eventually de la Ree decided he wanted to publish it. The project appears to have crystalized, or perhaps culminated, in a de Camp phone call to de la Ree on the evening of January 20, 1975. (De la Ree, Gerry, letter to L. Sprague de Camp, January 21, 1975.) After that, it was a matter of negotiating the details and making it happen.

De la Ree was likely sold on the prospect on the basis the manuscript he already possessed, to which he assumed the latest version would be “somewhat similar.” In the letter he wrote to de Camp the day after the phone conversation, he estimated “what my printing and other costs would be on a book of this size, [and] concluded I could pay you $200 for the use of your article … and allow to you any future resale of the work or part of it as you might wish once I have sold out 80% of the estimated 600 copies I would produce. I would also supply you with 10 copies of the regular edition and two copies of any bound edition I might do. These would be gratis and could be sold, retained, given away, or whatever you wish.” (ibid.) Not huge, even back in 1975, but at least the book would be out there. De la Ree’s modest desire was to “turn out an entertaining, interesting volume that will sell … make a small profit or, at worst, break even.”

And it would look good. De la Ree went on to project what illustrations he might commission to “dress up the volume,” including “at least three Conan-style drawings [for which] I would probably use Steve Fabian.” He also hoped for “a good photo of Howard” – possibly from de Camp? – to use, or, failing that, “have an artist draw one, but … it would merely be a copy of the standard Howard shot used (in the fedora hat),” as Mirage Press had done for the back of de Camp’s The Conan Swordbook. Alternatively, he might reproduce a signed Howard letter, of which he had a few in his own files. (ibid) Evidently, these missives were between Howard and Talman, copies of which de la Ree shortly afterwards supplied to de Camp.

In a lengthy correspondence continuing through and beyond publication of their book, de Camp and de la Ree negotiated terms, planned, fussed over, and celebrated the project – an exchange of vast interest to those intrigued by the minutiae of such matters, but perhaps best limited to the highlights here. De Camp forwarded his latest version of the article on the 26th, noting it was “over 40% longer than the original long version of the magazine article, or thrice the length of the abridged version in Fantastic.” He wanted copyright “in my own name,” and freedom to contract to include “a rewritten version of this piece as part of a collection of all my Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers … sketches.” He noted that he had no contract for such a book, and under the most favorable circumstances [it would be] unlikely to appear before 1976; but I want to be free to make such a contract.” (De Camp, L. Sprague. Letter to Gerry de la Ree, January 26, 1975) Which was prescient of him; circumstances were “most favorable” to his wishes, as that collection would appear in 1976.

As for pictures of Howard, de Camp had a number of suggestions, and enclosed one possibility (which he wanted returned). Together, these provided a decent sample of the likenesses known to exist at that time. Ultimately, however, the book used the artistic copy of the fedora picture (minus the actual fedora) that de la Ree had projected.

Another phone conversation ensued on the 30th, followed by de la Ree’s check for the $200 and his signed copy of the agreement. He also asked de Camp to come up with a new title for the book (De la Ree, Gerry. Letter to L. Sprague de Camp, January 30, 1975) De Camp, in response to the same conversation, wrote de la Ree on the 31st noting he had extracted some useful data from the Howard-Talman letters de la Ree had sent, on the basis of which he proposed four corrections to the text of the article. He also suggested as possible titles Robert E. Howard,: Miscast Barbarian, or The Miscast Barbarian: Robert E. Howard. (The manuscript at this time still bore the title The Skald of the Post Oaks.) (De Camp, L. Sprague. Letter to Gerry de la Ree, January 31, 1975) De la Ree, on February 1st, acknowledged the changes and settled on the final title, The Miscast Barbarian: A Biography of Robert E. Howard (1906-1936). (De la Ree, Gerry. Letter to L. Sprague de Camp, February 1, 1975)

There was a side issue involving Glenn Lord, who had aided de Camp on the original Fantastic article, but with whom de Camp was now on frosty terms. Lord placed an advance reservation for a copy of the new book, but guessed he didn’t deserve a gratis copy, feeling like a man in the middle. (De la Ree, Gerry. Letter to L. Sprague de Camp, February 27, 1975) De Camp responded “I haven’t the least objection to Glenn Lord’s getting a free copy.” He had, indeed, just sent Lord two free copies of the Lovecraft biography per a previous agreement, and noted that Lord’s part in the pieces was duly acknowledge in the preface, concluding that “while I find it hard to imagine ever entering into a business connection with him again, I am not wasting my time nursing feuds and grudges.” (De Camp to de la Ree, March 2, 1975) That they continued to be able to cooperate is evidenced by Lord concurring in action to terminate the Conan contracts with Lancer Books in the then-impending de Camp et al. v. Lancer Books trial. (De Camp to de la Ree, April 15, 1975)

There was niggling over the typeface. The bold, heavy font used by de la Ree’s printer Bob Lynn did not allow diacritics, italics or parentheses (it adopted square brackets instead), and de Camp wanted standard practices followed in regard to these, particularly in the citing of book and article titles. (De Camp to de la Ree, March 7, 1975) De la Ree was reluctant to comply; part of his difficulty here was that he was under a hard publication deadline, having promised delivery of the book to dealers and subscribers for April, and resetting so much material would tax Lynn, “already most unhappy with the numerous changes to be made.” (De la Ree to de Camp, March 10, 1975) But he promised to have corrections made when feasible, including inserting diacritics “with pen where possible.” (Ibid) Spot-checking the text, it looks like de Camp largely won out, at the cost of dropping in a different, lighter font for material to be italicized. The square brackets remained in the main body of the text, but were corrected in the beginning and end matter (publisher’s note, end-lists, and notes), which used the alternative font.

Aside from this squabble, news was good. The book was well subscribed; of the 900 copies de la Ree now expected to print, he had already pre-sold about 350 copies to his dealers and subscribers to the hardcover version. (Ibid.) De Camp advised getting the book into the hands of the pre-publication review organs (Kirkus Reviews, Publishers’ Weekly, and Library Journal) if he expected to print more (De Camp to de la Ree, March 7, 1975)

In the event, de la Ree met his publication deadline, and both partners were pleased with the result. De Camp got his author copies, and another check, by mid-April, and wrote “[t]he only thing about it (aside from the brackets) that makes me unhappy is that the printer missed my direction to delete the sentence at the end of page 9 and the beginning of p. 10, which repeats an earlier sentence [from the middle of page 8] verbatim.” (De Camp to de la Ree, April 15, 1975) And before a month was out, del le Ree was sending de Camp yet another check for $200, as The Miscast Barbarian “had to go into a second printing of 500 copies … this little book did quite well, methinks.” (De la Ree to de Camp, May 11, 1975)

It did not, however, have very long to do so, at least as a separate work. All too soon, The Miscast Barbarian was swallowed up by a bigger fish. The following year saw the collected edition of the series on fantasy authors de Camp had written for Fantastic Stories issued by Arkham House, as Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers: The Makers of Heroic Fantasy (1976). And Howard is duly treated therein, taking up Chapter VI, with credit to de Camp’s earlier articles. In it, the version of the text used is that previously published by de la Ree; the title of the chapter has now become “The Miscast Barbarian: Robert E Howard.” No doubt de Camp fiddled with the writing a bit more, because that’s what he typically did when he republished non-fiction. But, essentially, the de la Ree book is preserved in LSandS like a fly in amber.

There is at least one major change I know of. In the de la Ree publication, the work is itself divided into fifteen numbered chapters or sections, while in LSandS the work is a chapter, and these headers are omitted. The de la Ree version also includes a note by the publisher, an introduction by the author, and a bibliography. Oh, and lots of gorgeous illustrations!

Such differences notwithstanding, it can be argued that the subject of today’s review is just a section of a longer book, rather than an independent one. Which is true! But it did appear as a stand-alone first, and, as such, technically constitutes the very first in the sequence of Robert E. Howard biographies. Glad I got that off my chest!

Little attention is given to this work today, not just because it was subsumed into Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers, but because it would subsequently be superseded in de Camp’s own corpus by Dark Valley Destiny. It’s easy to view it as a mere place-holder between the early articles and full length tome that would come, as even though The Miscast Barbarian may have appeared to de Camp the best that could be done on Howard’s life in the mid-1970s, that quickly changed. First, Glenn Lord’s The Last Celt, with its miscellany of new material, opened up additional sources to pursue. And secondly, one more crucial resource unexpectedly dropped into the de Camps’s laps. Per Sprague:

“On November 17, 1976, Lin Carter came to Villanova to discuss future Conan stories. The same night, Catherine invited to dinner Dr. Jane Whittington Griffin, a psychologist specializing in child development [who] had once been a teacher of son Gerard. … Carter and I were upstairs, and Catherine was in the living room talking with Jane, when she suddenly called up: ‘Boys! Come down immediately! You must hear this!’

“Catherine had been telling Jane of her problems with Conan and mentioned the Howard heirs, Alla Ray Kuykendall and her daughter, Alla Ray Morris. Jane cried: ‘I went to college with Alla Ray Morris; they lived in Ranger, six miles from Eastland where I grew up!’

“Eastland was less than fifty miles from Cross Plains, the town where Robert Howard was also growing up in the boom days of the early 1920s. Jane was familiar with … central Texas, Howard’s kind of small-town life … and the concerns of the local people …

“A few nights later, … Jane urged that we collaborate on a ‘psycho-biography’ of Howard, combining her psychological insights and familiarity with the Texan scene with our general literary experience and knowledge of Howard’s writings. … We agreed.” (De Camp, L. Sprague. Time and Chance: An Autobiography, 1996, pp. 391-392)

This started the de Camps down the road that would lead to Dark Valley Destiny, entailing additional research trips to central Texas (with and without Dr. Griffin) in July 1977, March 1978, October 1978, and February 1980. That same road led to their reassembly of Howard’s personal library, their acquaintance with Charlotte Laughlin, who became the bibliographer of their own works, and, ultimately, to their own residence in Texas. Dr. Griffin proved a great opener of doors among people who had known Howard but might otherwise have been suspicious of prying outsiders.

But that was all still ahead, and unforeseeable, in 1975, when The Miscast Barbarian was published.

Before I finally bought a copy of The Miscast Barbarian (recently), I thought it was, indeed, an actual book, something like the largish trade paperbacks that have in recent decades mostly displaced that now endangered species, the mass market paperback. Imagine my surprise when what arrived in the mail turned out to be an 8 1/2” by 11” pamphlet, more akin to the fanzines of that same bygone era. Something that would (and now does) fit comfortably on a shelf with my copy of the second edition of Loay Hall’s de Camp fanzine Pusad Revisited.

That said, it’s a well-made work, saddle stapled, with covers of decent card stock, and lavishly printed and illustrated. The front cover sports the previously projected variation on the “hat” portrait of Howard, here executed by artist Charles McGill (who has thoughtfully removed the hat Howard reportedly detested). A decent job is done, though Howard’s face seems unnecessarily bloated, even in comparison to the original photograph. There is also a back cover illustration, consisting of the colophon that appeared on many if not all of de la Ree’s publications. It takes the form of a nude winged (and horned) Victory beneath a full moon, seated with a stack of two books and scrollwork on a pedestal inscribed DE LA REE. It is signed SF, indicating the artist is Stephen E. Fabian.

Inside, there are numerous illustrations of scenes and characters from Howard’s stories and poems by George Barr, Stephen E. Fabian, Virgil Finlay, C. Lee Healy, and Roy G. Krenkel, along with a few oddities such as a reproduction of a printed Weird Tales rejection slip from the 1930s and a blow-up of an illuminated letter N (of which more in a moment). Much of the matter was newly commissioned by de la Ree; only the pieces by Finlay and Fabian having previously appeared elsewhere (in Weird Tales and the Fantastic Stories Sword & Sorcery Annual for 1975). For details, see the contents list below.

In addition, each section of the text begins with an illuminated initial letter, all by Fabian, the letters being A (heading the Introduction and Chapters 2 and 10), D (heading Chapter 15), H (heading Chapters 5 and 8), I (heading Chapters 9 and 14), M (heading Chapters 6 and 13), N (heading Chapter 1, a miniature of the blown-up one noted earlier), R (heading the Publisher’s Note), T (heading Chapters 11 and 12), and W (heading Chapters 3 , 4, and 7). So you can’t quite get a whole alphabet out of these. (Though it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Fabian might have done the whole alphabet.)

The book was issued in a limited edition, in two printings, both dated 1975. The first printing was issued in two states. First, 130 copies were bound in black cloth, with gold stamping, sans dust cover, all of the copies signed by L. Sprague de Camp. This version does not have the front cover illustration, but is just print on ground. I presume it also lacks the back cover illustration, though the Internet Speculative Fiction database seems to think it has it. The ISFDb doesn’t show the back cover, and I’ve not seen a copy of this state. Laughlin and Levack, who evidently did see one, are silent on the issue. Second, 900 copies bound in paper (card stock), the copies numbered on the back cover. This one does have the cover illustrations.

The second printing is almost identical to the second state of the first printing, consisting of 512 copies bound in paper (card stock); it does not, however, number the copies on the back cover. I presume my own copy, being unnumbered, is from this printing.

The contents are as follows:

[Front Cover] [Illustration] Untitled, a portrait of Robert E. Howard by Charlie McGill, based, as noted above, on the “hat” photograph.

[Page 1] Title page, crediting author L. Sprague de Camp, artists Charles McGill, Virgil Finlay, George Barr, Stephen E. Fabian, C. Lee Healy, and Roy G. Krenkel, publisher Gerry de la Ree, and graphic design to Bob Lynn/Tony Raven. Lynn, as we know, was de la Ree’s printer, but who was Raven? The slash might seem to indicate he was a second “graphic designer,” or perhaps (merely) Lynn’s business partner. The truth is much more interesting: Lynn and Raven were in fact the very same person! Also, a professional magician! We’ll be getting back to this guy…

[Page 2] Copyright page, assigning that of the text to de Camp and that of the artwork to de la Ree. A Publisher’s Note signed by de la Ree occupies the majority of the page, blurbing Howard, his characters, his posthumous success, the journals and publishers responsible for this, the author and the present work, characterized as “the most complete yet published,” and a concluding note on the tragic death of the subject of the work.

One might next expect a contents page, but the book doesn’t have one. Consider this list your handy substitute!

[Page 3] Introduction, signed by L. Sprague de Camp, Villanova, Pennsylvania, January, 1975. De Camp writes of the “Skald in the Post Oaks” article, its original truncation, and the realization of the complete (and somewhat augmented) version issued as the present work. He notes that quotations in it from the letters of Howard and Lovecraft are reproduced by permission of Glenn Lord as agent for the Howard heirs, and Ethel Phillips Morrish, Lovecraft’s cousin and heir.

[Page 4] [Illustration]“The Deathless Queen in a City Old as Death by C. Lee Healy for Howard’s poem, ‘Solomon Kane’s Homecoming’.

Page 5. [Chapter] 1. The Formative Years. Howard is likened to J.R.R. Tolkien as “the most widely-read and influential author of heroic fantasy.” His birth, parentage, early life and education from 1906-1928, and literary interests are covered.

[Page 7] [Illustration] Untitled, a moonlit scene of a sailing craft off a rugged, jungle festooned coast; uncredited, but obviously by Stephen E. Fabian (probably for Howard’s story “Queen of the Black Coast”)

Page 8. [Chapter] 2. The Die Is Cast. Howard’s literary goals and career from 1921-1929 are recounted, along with his early characters (Solomon Kane is highlighted) and markets, his poetry, and poetic models.

[Page 10] [Illustration] “Rejection slips from Weird Tales were not unknown to Robert E. Howard or most other writers of the early 1930s.” (reproduction of a printed slip)

Page 11. [Chapter] 3. Into Manhood. Howard’s life at home as an adult, with physical and emotional descriptions.

Page 13. [Chapter] 4. Literary Influences. These are traced, along with some of their echoes in Howard’s works. His correspondence with H. P. Lovecraft, and the opinions expressed therein, are brought up.

Page 15. [Chapter] 5. Celtic Heritage. Howard’s fascination with the ancient Celts and his own Irish ancestry are covered, along with their expression in his work.

[Page 16] [Illustration] “Virgil Finlay’s striking illustration for Robert E. Howard’s ‘Pigeons From Hell’, published in May 1938 Weird Tales. Drawing from collection of Gerry de la Ree.”

Page 17. [Chapter] 6. A Product of His Times. Howard’s period-typical (if somewhat mitigated) views on ethnic minorities are delved into.

Page 18. [Chapter] 7. His Markets Widen. Howard is shown branching out into different kinds of stories and new markets. His sailor-prizefighter characters, Steve Costigan and Dennis Dorgan, are discussed.

Page 19. [Chapter] 8. Thoughts of Suicide. Problematic aspects of Howard’s personality that may have figured into his eventual actual suicide are explored. Two longish quotes from Howard, and one from E. Hoffmann Price.

[Page 22] [Illustration] “Conan the Conqueror by Stephen E. Fabian done especially for this book”

Page 23. [Chapter] 9. The Arrival of Conan. The crafting of Howard’s most famous character from 1932-1935, along with the fictional Hyborian Age in which his adventures are set.

Page 26. [Illustration] “Artist Roy G. Krenkel’s sketch of Conan drawn for this book.”

Page 27. [Chapter] 10. His Writing Style. Sound, unobtrusive, colorful, spare in adjective and adverb, well-wrought, sometimes hasty, careless and derivative. Some of his stylistic quirks. A natural storyteller. More on Conan.

[Page 30] [Illustration] “Conan the Barbarian, a drawing by George Barr done especially for this volume, and inspired by Howard’s novel[la], ‘Red Nails’, originally published in Weird Tales in 1936.”

Page 31 [Chapter] 11. Into Other Areas. Howard’s widening markets blossom. Detective and (especially) Western stories. He gets an agent.

Page 32 [Illustration] “CONAN By Stephen E. Fabian” [a vignette portrait]

Page 33 [Chapter] 12. Productive Years. These would be 1932-1936. Howard’s income and circle of correspondence grow. Difficulties involving the Great Depression. His interactions with E. Hoffmann Price and Novaline Price (no relation!)

Page 34 [Illustration] “Conan the Cimmerian and Bêlit by Stephen E. Fabian from Howard’s ‘Queen of the Black Coast’. Reprinted from Sword and Sorcery Annual with permission of artist and publisher Sol Cohen.”

Page 35 [Chapter] 13. All Fled – – All Done. The decline of Howard’s mother and the received version of his suicide and its aftermath. Reactions from amid his circle.

Page 36 [Illustration] “Virgil Finlay’s 1936 drawing for Robert E. Howard’s ‘Dig Me No Grave’, published in January 1937 issue of Weird Tales magazine. Drawing from collection of Gerry de la Ree.”

Page 37. [Chapter] 14. Possible Reasons. For the suicide. They are explored. Howard’s fixations are trotted out, along, inevitably, with de Camp’s own psychoanalytical fixation. Something about the life of Howard’s father after his and his mother’s passings.

[Page 39] [Illustration] “The Girl with the Golden Hair from Robert E. Howard’s poem, ‘Rebel’. Drawing by C. Lee Healy.”

Page 40. [Chapter] 15. The Revival. The fate of Howard’s writings in the thirty-odd years after his death is hashed. Arkham House, Gnome Press, the Lancer paperbacks. Why it happened; de Camp’s customary bit about elite vs. exciting modes of writing is trotted out. With an epithetical return to Howard at the end.

Page 41. Hard-Cover Books by or About Robert E. Howard. A bibliography, providing titles and publishers (but not authors!) from 1937-1975. Thirty-one titles are listed (the limitation to hardcovers keeps things in bounds). Books Scheduled. A sort of postscript listing adding seven more books (then) not yet published.

Page 42.Notes. End note citations, keyed to what needed citing in the text. Unusually for de Camp, there are no entertaining comments or ad-libs. However, if you read the versions included in the Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers version, you will discover more notes, and actual comments. So there’s that. There are thirty-six footnotes here, which increase to forty-seven in LSandS.

[Page 43] [Illustration] “C. Lee Healy’s drawing for the Robert E. Howard poem, ‘The Sea-Woman’.”

[Page 44] [Illustration] Untitled, an illuminated letter N by Stephen E. Fabian, blown up from a smaller version appearing elsewhere in the work.

[Back cover] [Illustration] Untitled, publisher de la Ree’s colophon by Stephen E. Fabian, a nude female winged (and horned) Victory beneath a full moon, seated amid two bound volumes, a partially unrolled scroll, and curlicues atop a monument or pedestal inscribed “DE LA REE.”

And, that’s the book! There is no dedication, so I have no dedicatee to tell you about for a change, and I’ve already discussed the publisher. So I have nothing more to add, right? Wrong! What about the artists? After all, they’re all good ones. I promise this won’t take (very) long.

Bob Lynn (1930-2005). Okay, not an artist, but artist-adjacent; we have already met him (briefly) in his capacity of printer and graphic designer. Lynn also worked in advertising, but most of information out there on him is in regard to his career as a professional performer of magic, both under his own name and his pseudonym of Anthony or Tony Raven, which he commenced at a very early age. Lynn was also part Cherokee (the “Raven” name comes from that portion of his heritage), and he devoted the last decade or so of his life to educating people about Indians. More relevantly here, he’s the guy who, the year after The Miscast Barbarian was published, had his own de la Ree book, The Occult Lovecraft (1976), in which he played much the same role as Wilfred Talman had in The Normal Lovecraft. This 40-page book gathered essays by HPL, Frank Belknap Long, Samuel Loveman and Lynn himself (as Anthony Raven) on Lovecraft and the supernatural, together with illustrations of Stephen E. Fabian. Other publications of interest include The Ruby Toad: A Tale of Fantasy (1973), also under the Anthony Raven name (but with Lynn’s real one as publisher, and Pagan Images (1978), a portfolio of drawings by Fabian. But overall, Lynn’s spec fic work seems to have been very much a sideline to all his other stuff…

Charles McGill (b. 1933). He has just three professional credits in the Internet Speculative Fiction Database, all portraits, and all for Gerry de la Ree, who provided his sole connection to the field. Besides his Robert E. Howard on the cover for The Miscast Barbarian, McGill drew H. P. Lovecraft for the cover on its earlier “twin,” Talman’s The Normal Lovecraft (1973), and an interior illustration of Mary Shelley and her famous monster for de la Ree’s Fantasy Collector’s Annual – 1974. I know of one or two other genre pieces the ISFDb overlooked, but it’s fair to say spec fic work was a minor side gig for McGill. To what? His career as a sports cartoonist in New Jersey, which incidentally explains how he knew Gerry de la Ree, who as previously noted was in real life sports editor for the North Bergen Evening Record. Usually credited as Charlie McGill, he produced nearly 4,000 “Athlete of the Week” drawings for the paper over a period of close to 70 years, from fall 1954 to summer 2024, as well as portraits of public figures. He was kind of a big thing there! He finally retired in 2024 at the age of ninety, and is currently a resident of Closter, New Jersey.

Virgil Finlay (1914-1971). One of the most accomplished fantasy, science fiction and horror artists of the pulp era, whose work appeared in Amazing Stories, Weird Tales, The American Weekly under the editorship of A. Merritt, and many, many other places. He won the Hugo Award for Best Interior Illustrator, 1953, as well as Retro Hugos for best artist, 1944 and 1945 (awarded in 2019 and 1996, respectively), and was inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame in 2012. Gerry de la Ree was an avid collector of Finlay’s art, publishing at least eight posthumous collections of his work, and including pieces by him in many of his other publications.

George Barr (1937-2025). An important fantasy and science fiction cover artist and illustrator whose career in the field extended from 1959 into the teens of the present century. He had a delicate, distinctive, magical and unmistakable style. His work appeared in Amra, the Newcastle Forgotten Fantasy Series, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Fantasy Magazine, and about a zillion different paperback covers, particularly for DAW Books and Newcastle’s Forgotten Fantasy Library.-He won the Hugo Award for Best Fan Artist, 1967, and was a frequent finalist for other genre artistic awards in other years, including the Hugo, Locus, World Fantasy and British Fantasy Awards.

Stephen E. Fabian (1930-2025). His career extended from 1966 into the 2000s as both an illustrator and cover artist; he was pretty much the modern Virgil Finlay, and hence, unsurprisingly, a go-to artist for Gerry de la Ree. His work was amazing, and I could fill pages on what he did and where, but this review is supposed to be about one particular book, so here I’ll just note here that he was a finalist for the Hugo Award for Best Fan Artist , 1970 and 1971, and for Best Professional Artist in every year from 1975-1981. He was awarded the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 2006.

C. Lee Healy (b. 1949). The C. stands for Cora. Because gender discrimination was still a thing back then, and women in creative fields could still improve their prospects for work by abbreviating inconveniently feminine names. Hopefully, it did in her case. Of course, gender discrimination is still a thing today, just no longer respectable. Until recently, anyway. (There are other reasons to abbreviate, of course, which is why L. Sprague de Camp’s first name was not, say, Lucy.) Healy keeps a low profile, which is why the most recent portrait I’ve found for her is from 1967. Per the Internet Speculative Fiction Database, her artistic career in speculative fiction extended from the early 1970s through the late 1980s, but as best I can tell she is still active as an artist, and until recently she was co-owner with George Barr of The Enchanted Thingamajig, an online art site, which showcased his work. Since his passing Healy is presumably the sole owner. She lives in California, one town over from me. (No, I don’t know her, this is per research).

Roy G. Krenkel (1918-1983). Comic book artist starting in the 1950s and illustrator and cover artist for numerous fan publications, magazines and paperbacks from the early 1960s onward, including, notably, de Camp’s Great Cities of the Ancient World (1972). Several collections of his own art have appeared. He is perhaps best remembered as an interpreter of the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs and as mentor of and collaborator with some dude named Frank Frazetta. He won the Hugo Award for Best Professional Artist, 1963.

We’re not quite done. Before I conclude, it would also be well to discuss further The Normal Lovecraft, which has already come to our attention as an earlier-appearing companion publication to The Miscast Barbarian. It was, in fact, similar in every respect to the current work—published by Gerry de la Ree with simultaneous black cover hardbound and cardbound editions, the latter with a cover portrait of the subject by Charles McGill, and interior illustrations by prominent speculative fiction artists. Not too much should be made of this, perhaps; de la Ree’s publications tended to conform to a standard “style,” which both of these definitely do, Still, the two books so resemble each other that they could be a matched set. Differences? They are about different authors and by different authors, Normal is a memoir rather than a biography, is padded out with additional material, contains fewer illustrations, and is shorter by eleven pages, consisting of 33 rather than 44.

The Normal Lovecraft (1973) is credited to Wilfred B. Talman rather than L. Sprague de Camp, though de Camp did also have a hand in it. While Talman’s titular memoir on Lovecraft is the main component of the book, it also contains two other pieces, both having to do with Lovecraft’s wife Sonia; “When Sonia Sizzled,” by Gerry de la Ree, and “Sonia & H.P.L.”, by de Camp. Plus three illustrations by Tim Kirk, Virgil Finlay, and Clark Ashton Smith. The main author, incidentally, was the same Wilfred Talman that those Talman letters were written to, and, moreover, a contributor to Weird Tales in the late 1920s and early 1930s. His first contribution, in fact, being the short story “Two Black Bottles” (Weird Tales v.10, no. 2, August 1927) which was actually an uncredited collaboration with H. P. Lovecraft himself! (Meaning, most likely, one of those ghost-rewrites Lovecraft so often performed for otherwise unpublishable pieces by others.) Talman also had two later short stories and three poems in Weird Tales, not to my knowledge ghosted by Lovecraft, but I haven’t delved very deeply, so don’t quote me on that. Oh, and he had one additional short story in a rival magazine called Marvel Tales. “The Normal Lovecraft” was later reprinted in the Peter Cannon-edited compilation Lovecraft Remembered (Arkham House, 1998).

And with that, we can bring our review of The Miscast Barbarian to a close.

#