I’ve been listening to Edgar Rice Burroughs’ A Princess of Mars enthusiastically on my iPod prior to hitting the hay the last several evenings and I just reached chapters 8-9 which introduce the “fair captive of the sky,” Dejah Thoris. And one of the things that I really enjoy about her introduction is the moving description that Burroughs gives of her situation and the manner in which she meets John Carter. Having been captured after a pre-emptive attack on some 20-odd ships, Burroughs’s language at their meeting is very moving and immediately endears the character to us:
I entered the plaza a sight met my eyes which filled my whole being with a great surge of mingled hope, fear, exultation, and depression, and yet most dominant was a subtle sense of relief and happiness; for just as we neared the throng of Martians I caught a glimpse of the prisoner from the battle craft who was being roughly dragged into a nearby building by a couple of green Martian females. And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past life. She did not see me at first, but just as she was disappearing through the portal of the building which was to be her prison she turned, and her eyes met mine…
Over the first several chapters we have been made witness to the ferocity of the green martians, and outside of Sola and Tars Tarkas, we can vividly imagine how they’re treating their fair captive, and the hopelessness she must feel having been taken as a spoil of their victory. Then she sees John Carter, a man resembling her own species, and she dares to hope for a helping hand:
As her gaze rested on me her eyes opened wide in astonishment, and she made a little sign with her free hand; a sign which I did not, of course, understand. Just a moment we gazed upon each other, and then the look of hope and renewed courage which had glorified her face as she discovered me, faded into one of utter dejection, mingled with loathing and contempt. I realized I had not answered her signal, and ignorant as I was of Martian customs, I intuitively felt that she had made an appeal for succor and protection which my unfortunate ignorance had prevented me from answering. And then she was dragged out of my sight into the depths of the deserted edifice.
We can imagine the outstretched hand, desperately trying to communicate with someone that might be able to help her, followed by the dejection in her eyes when the plea goes unanswered. It was a terrible place to have to stop listening and get some sleep, but I wanted to take a moment to express just how well I thought ERB handled her introduction, and as I say, immediately endearing her to readers as we witness her pathetic plight and hope for Carter’s rescue attempt. Can’t wait to get back to the book this evening!
