Sword and Sorcery

Although Fritz Leiber coined the term ‘Sword & Sorcery’ in the early 60s, the sub-genre it described stems from the 30s – specifically, from Robert E. Howard’s tales of Conan the Barbarian. It describes a style of storytelling that focuses on the adventurous exploits of one mighty hero as he wanders around the land diverting himself in the various ways that mighty heroes do. There is no attention to a greater over-arching plot; the hero gets himself into trouble, and then adventures his way back out of it, usually with some amazing treasures to show for his pains. The stories are episodic, and frequently exuberantly written. Typically, each can be read without any knowledge of the others – a must for tales that are going to be printed in a magazine, which is where Sword & Sorcery was born.

The Conan stories first appeared in the pulp magazine “Weird Tales”. They were gloriously uninhibited, explosions of adventure, heroism and machismo as embodied by mighty Conan himself. Conan was everything a hero ought to be – lethal swordsman, master thief, cunning general and ferocious lover, with the body of a titan and a fierce distrust of magic. Howard’s stories were packed with action, and punctuated with buxom damsels in various states of distress. Although Howard killed himself at a tragically young age, he produced enough short stories and novellas (and a novel) to establish Conan as one of the mythic legends of western culture. Others soon followed – and the most effective of these was Fritz Leiber.

Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser

Leiber began writing his good-humoured, roistering tales of the barbarian Fafhrd and his sneak-thief companion the Gray Mouser in the late 1930s. Cheerfully described as the greatest swordsmen in any plane of existence, the two made their way through a dazzling array of villains, crises and compliant lovers. Somehow they always found the time to engage in some good-natured banter, deflate some pompous egos, and repeatedly save the city of Lankhmar. As with Conan, most of the Fafhrd & Grey Mouser tales are short stories, and just one is a full-length novel – “The Swords of Lankhmar”, from 1968. As usual for the twosome, it is delightfully extravagant fun.

Sword & Sorcery was taken in a different direction by the British writer Michael Moorcock. He created a red-eyed, albino anti-hero, Elric of Melnibone, for “Science Fantasy” magazine in 1961. Moorcock’s brand of Sword & Sorcery is dark and ironic. Elric is crippled by his albinism, a lethargic weakling given incredible strength and stamina by his sword – the half-sentient “runeblade” Stormbringer. The demonic blade consumes the souls of its victims, passing a portion of the stolen life-force to its wielder. Elric dislikes his proxy vampirism, and hates his weapon, as it apparently hates him, yet the two are inseparable. It’s not moral outrage on Elric’s part, however; he’s quite evil most of the time. His feelings for Stormbringer are more the product of resentment at his own weakness – and the blade’s habit of eating the souls of everyone that Elric actually cares about.

As with other Sword & Sorcery works, most of the Elric stories are short, and many were first published in magazines. Moorcock later expanded his universe to encompass many different incarnations of Elric’s soul in different worlds and times, almost all in the same gleefully inventive vein as his early stories. He remains the dominant author of the sub-genre in modern times.

Sword & Sorcery owed absolutely nothing to J. R. R. Tolkien. It was a pulp-magazine form, suited to shorter lengths, and it appealed for the most part to male readers. As a genre, it was accused of fascism, sexism and all manner of sins, but in the hands of its best practitioners it had wit, imagination, an interesting darkness, and above all excitement.