Tarzan

Despite considerable searching, I have not been able to find the one from my memories.

Despite considerable searching, I have not been able to find the one from my memories.

It’s not possible for Tarzan not to be problematic. Simply not possible.

I have never actually read a Tarzan story, though I will confess to having read half a dozen novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs (four of his Mars novels and two of his Pellucidar novels). Growing up, there was one in the library. The library was small, dusty room with a piano that no on in the house could play. And there was a Tarzan novel (or, perhaps, a collection of short stories; I believe that many of the so-called books were just compilations of short stories originally published in magazines). On the cover was Tarzan and a crocodile in a fast moving river. I can’t remember whether they swimming (Tarzan being chased) or whether Tarzan was wrestling the reptile. Despite loving crocodilians, I did not read it, partly because my mother told me that the stories were racist. So I looked and looked, but never read.

My better half and I saw the movie, The Legend of Tarzan the other day. And I enjoyed it. It worked manfully, it not entirely successful to make the white savior aspects less horrible (though it would have irritated purists and white supremacists alike, it would have been cool if Jane had been played by black actress).

Maybe I will read one finally. One with dinosaurs or lost cities. Or not. Maybe I should not.

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