The Son Of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

A henchman of Tarzan's now-deceased enemy, Nikolas Rokoff, wants to even the score, and lures Tarzan's son away from London and into his clutches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wilder Publications, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781627559829

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950) had various jobs before getting his first fiction published at the age of 37. He established himself with wildly imaginative, swashbuckling romances about Tarzan of the Apes, John Carter of Mars and other heroes, all at large in exotic environments of perpetual adventure. Tarzan was particularly successful, appearing in silent film as early as 1918 and making the author famous. Burroughs wrote science fiction, westerns and historical adventure, all charged with his propulsive prose and often startling inventiveness. Although he claimed he sought only to provide entertainment, his work has been credited as inspirational by many authors and scientists.

Book preview

The Son Of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

©2014 Wilder Publications

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

Wilder Publications, Inc.

PO Box 632

Floyd VA 24091-0632

ISBN 13: 978-1-62755-982-9

First Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

To Hulbert Burroughs

Chapter 1

The long boat of the Marjorie W. was floating down the broad Ugambi with ebb tide and current. Her crew were lazily enjoying this respite from the arduous labor of rowing up stream. Three miles below them lay the Marjorie W. herself, quite ready to sail so soon as they should have clambered aboard and swung the long boat to its davits. Presently the attention of every man was drawn from his dreaming or his gossiping to the northern bank of the river. There, screaming at them in a cracked falsetto and with skinny arms outstretched, stood a strange apparition of a man.

Wot the ‘ell? ejaculated one of the crew.

A white man! muttered the mate, and then: Man the oars, boys, and we’ll just pull over an’ see what he wants.

When they came close to the shore they saw an emaciated creature with scant white locks tangled and matted. The thin, bent body was naked but for a loin cloth. Tears were rolling down the sunken pock-marked cheeks. The man jabbered at them in a strange tongue.

Rooshun, hazarded the mate. Savvy English? he called to the man.

He did, and in that tongue, brokenly and haltingly, as though it had been many years since he had used it, he begged them to take him with them away from this awful country. Once on board the Marjorie W. the stranger told his rescuers a pitiful tale of privation, hardships, and torture, extending over a period of ten years. How he happened to have come to Africa he did not tell them, leaving them to assume he had forgotten the incidents of his life prior to the frightful ordeals that had wrecked him mentally and physically. He did not even tell them his true name, and so they knew him only as Michael Sabrov, nor was there any resemblance between this sorry wreck and the virile, though unprincipled, Alexis Paulvitch of old.

It had been ten years since the Russian had escaped the fate of his friend, the arch-fiend Rokoff, and not once, but many times during those ten years had Paulvitch cursed the fate that had given to Nicholas Rokoff death and immunity from suffering while it had meted to him the hideous terrors of an existence infinitely worse than the death that persistently refused to claim him.

Paulvitch had taken to the jungle when he had seen the beasts of Tarzan and their savage lord swarm the deck of the Kincaid, and in his terror lest Tarzan pursue and capture him he had stumbled on deep into the jungle, only to fall at last into the hands of one of the savage cannibal tribes that had felt the weight of Rokoff’s evil temper and cruel brutality. Some strange whim of the chief of this tribe saved Paulvitch from death only to plunge him into a life of misery and torture. For ten years he had been the butt of the village, beaten and stoned by the women and children, cut and slashed and disfigured by the warriors; a victim of often recurring fevers of the most malignant variety. Yet he did not die. Smallpox laid its hideous clutches upon him; leaving him unspeakably branded with its repulsive marks. Between it and the attentions of the tribe the countenance of Alexis Paulvitch was so altered that his own mother could not have recognized in the pitiful mask he called his face a single familiar feature. A few scraggly, yellow-white locks had supplanted the thick, dark hair that had covered his head. His limbs were bent and twisted, he walked with a shuffling, unsteady gait, his body doubled forward. His teeth were gone--knocked out by his savage masters. Even his mentality was but a sorry mockery of what it once had been.

They took him aboard the Marjorie W., and there they fed and nursed him. He gained a little in strength; but his appearance never altered for the better--a human derelict, battered and wrecked, they had found him; a human derelict, battered and wrecked, he would remain until death claimed him. Though still in his thirties, Alexis Paulvitch could easily have passed for eighty. Inscrutable Nature had demanded of the accomplice a greater penalty than his principal had paid.

In the mind of Alexis Paulvitch there lingered no thoughts of revenge--only a dull hatred of the man whom he and Rokoff had tried to break, and failed. There was hatred, too, of the memory of Rokoff, for Rokoff had led him into the horrors he had undergone. There was hatred of the police of a score of cities from which he had had to flee. There was hatred of law, hatred of order, hatred of everything. Every moment of the man’s waking life was filled with morbid thought of hatred--he had become mentally as he was physically in outward appearance, the personification of the blighting emotion of Hate. He had little or nothing to do with the men who had rescued him. He was too weak to work and too morose for company, and so they quickly left him alone to his own devices.

The Marjorie W. had been chartered by a syndicate of wealthy manufacturers, equipped with a laboratory and a staff of scientists, and sent out to search for some natural product which the manufacturers who footed the bills had been importing from South America at an enormous cost. What the product was none on board the Marjorie W. knew except the scientists, nor is it of any moment to us, other than that it led the ship to a certain island off the coast of Africa after Alexis Paulvitch had been taken aboard.

The ship lay at anchor off the coast for several weeks. The monotony of life aboard her became trying for the crew. They went often ashore, and finally Paulvitch asked to accompany them--he too was tiring of the blighting sameness of existence upon the ship.

The island was heavily timbered. Dense jungle ran down almost to the beach. The scientists were far inland, prosecuting their search for the valuable commodity that native rumor upon the mainland had led them to believe might be found here in marketable quantity. The ship’s company fished, hunted, and explored. Paulvitch shuffled up and down the beach, or lay in the shade of the great trees that skirted it. One day, as the men were gathered at a little distance inspecting the body of a panther that had fallen to the gun of one of them who had been hunting inland, Paulvitch lay sleeping beneath his tree. He was awakened by the touch of a hand upon his shoulder. With a start he sat up to see a huge, anthropoid ape squatting at his side, inspecting him intently. The Russian was thoroughly frightened. He glanced toward the sailors--they were a couple of hundred yards away. Again the ape plucked at his shoulder, jabbering plaintively. Paulvitch saw no menace in the inquiring gaze, or in the attitude of the beast. He got slowly to his feet. The ape rose at his side.

Half doubled, the man shuffled cautiously away toward the sailors. The ape moved with him, taking one of his arms. They had come almost to the little knot of men before they were seen, and by this time Paulvitch had become assured that the beast meant no harm. The animal evidently was accustomed to the association of human beings. It occurred to the Russian that the ape represented a certain considerable money value, and before they reached the sailors he had decided he should be the one to profit by it.

When the men looked up and saw the oddly paired couple shuffling toward them they were filled with amazement, and started on a run toward the two. The ape showed no sign of fear. Instead he grasped each sailor by the shoulder and peered long and earnestly into his face. Having inspected them all he returned to Paulvitch’s side, disappointment written strongly upon his countenance and in his carriage.

The men were delighted with him. They gathered about, asking Paulvitch many questions, and examining his companion. The Russian told them that the ape was his--nothing further would he offer—but kept harping continually upon the same theme, The ape is mine. The ape is mine. Tiring of Paulvitch, one of the men essayed a pleasantry. Circling about behind the ape he prodded the anthropoid in the back with a pin. Like a flash the beast wheeled upon its tormentor, and, in the briefest instant of turning, the placid, friendly animal was metamorphosed to a frenzied demon of rage. The broad grin that had sat upon the sailor’s face as he perpetrated his little joke froze to an expression of terror. He attempted to dodge the long arms that reached for him; but, failing, drew a long knife that hung at his belt. With a single wrench the ape tore the weapon from the man’s grasp and flung it to one side, then his yellow fangs were buried in the sailor’s shoulder.

With sticks and knives the man’s companions fell upon the beast, while Paulvitch danced around the cursing snarling pack mumbling and screaming pleas and threats. He saw his visions of wealth rapidly dissipating before the weapons of the sailors.

The ape, however, proved no easy victim to the superior numbers that seemed fated to overwhelm him. Rising from the sailor who had precipitated the battle he shook his giant shoulders, freeing himself from two of the men that were clinging to his back, and with mighty blows of his open palms felled one after another of his attackers, leaping hither and thither with the agility of a small monkey.

The fight had been witnessed by the captain and mate who were just landing from the Marjorie W., and Paulvitch saw these two now running forward with drawn revolvers while the two sailors who had brought them ashore trailed at their heels. The ape stood looking about him at the havoc he had wrought, but whether he was awaiting a renewal of the attack or was deliberating which of his foes he should exterminate first Paulvitch could not guess. What he could guess, however, was that the moment the two officers came within firing distance of the beast they would put an end to him in short order unless something were done and done quickly to prevent. The ape had made no move to attack the Russian but even so the man was none too sure of what might happen were he to interfere with the savage beast, now thoroughly aroused to bestial rage, and with the smell of new spilled blood fresh in its nostrils. For an instant he hesitated, and then again there rose before him the dreams of affluence which this great anthropoid would doubtless turn to realities once Paulvitch had landed him safely in some great metropolis like London.

The captain was shouting to him now to stand aside that he might have a shot at the animal; but instead Paulvitch shuffled to the ape’s side, and though the man’s hair quivered at its roots he mastered his fear and laid hold of the ape’s arm.

Come! he commanded, and tugged to pull the beast from among the sailors, many of whom were now sitting up in wide eyed fright or crawling away from their conqueror upon hands and knees.

Slowly the ape permitted itself to be led to one side, nor did it show the slightest indication of a desire to harm the Russian. The captain came to a halt a few paces from the odd pair.

Get aside, Sabrov! he commanded. I’ll put that brute where he won’t chew up any more able seamen.

It wasn’t his fault, captain, pleaded Paulvitch. Please don’t shoot him. The men started it—they attacked him first. You see, he’s perfectly gentle—and he’s mine—he’s mine—he’s mine! I won’t let you kill him, he concluded, as his half-wrecked mentality pictured anew the pleasure that money would buy in London—money that he could not hope to possess without some such windfall as the ape represented.

The captain lowered his weapon. The men started it, did they? he repeated. How about that? and he turned toward the sailors who had by this time picked themselves from the ground, none of them much the worse for his experience except the fellow who had been the cause of it, and who would doubtless nurse a sore shoulder for a week or so.

Simpson done it, said one of the men. He stuck a pin into the monk from behind, and the monk got him—which served him bloomin’ well right—an’ he got the rest of us, too, for which I can’t blame him, since we all jumped him to once.

The captain looked at Simpson, who sheepishly admitted the truth of the allegation, then he stepped over to the ape as though to discover for himself the sort of temper the beast possessed, but it was noticeable that he kept his revolver cocked and leveled as he did so. However, he spoke soothingly to the animal who squatted at the Russian’s side looking first at one and then another of the sailors. As the captain approached him the ape half rose and waddled forward to meet him. Upon his countenance was the same strange, searching expression that had marked his scrutiny of each of the sailors he had first encountered. He came quite close to the officer and laid a paw upon one of the man’s shoulders, studying his face intently for a long moment, then came the expression of disappointment accompanied by what was almost a human sigh, as he turned away to peer in the same curious fashion into the faces of the mate and the two sailors who had arrived with the officers. In each instance he sighed and passed on, returning at length to Paulvitch’s side, where he squatted down once more; thereafter evincing little or no interest in any of the other men, and apparently forgetful of his recent battle with them.

When the party returned aboard the Marjorie W., Paulvitch was accompanied by the ape, who seemed anxious to follow him. The captain interposed no obstacles to the arrangement, and so the great anthropoid was tacitly admitted to membership in the ship’s company. Once aboard he examined each new face minutely, evincing the same disappointment in each instance that had marked his scrutiny of the others. The officers and scientists aboard often discussed the beast, but they were unable to account satisfactorily for the strange ceremony with which he greeted each new face. Had he been discovered upon the mainland, or any other place than the almost unknown island that had been his home, they would have concluded that he had formerly been a pet of man; but that theory was not tenable in the face of the isolation of his uninhabited island. He seemed continually to be searching for someone, and during the first days of the return voyage from the island he was often discovered nosing about in various parts of the ship; but after he had seen and examined each face of the ship’s company, and explored every corner of the vessel he lapsed into utter indifference of all about him. Even the Russian elicited only casual interest when he brought him food. At other times the ape appeared merely to tolerate him. He never showed affection for him, or for anyone else upon the Marjorie W., nor did he at any time evince any indication of the savage temper that had marked his resentment of the attack of the sailors upon him at the time that he had come among them.

Most of his time was spent in the eye of the ship scanning the horizon ahead, as though he were endowed with sufficient reason to know that the vessel was bound for some port where there would be other human beings to undergo his searching scrutiny. All in all, Ajax, as he had been dubbed, was considered the most remarkable and intelligent ape that any one aboard the Marjorie W. ever had seen. Nor was his intelligence the only remarkable attribute he owned. His stature and physique were, for an ape, awe inspiring. That he was old was quite evident, but if his age had impaired his physical or mental powers in the slightest it was not apparent.

And so at length the Marjorie W. came to England, and there the officers and the scientists, filled with compassion for the pitiful wreck of a man they had rescued from the jungles, furnished Paulvitch with funds and bid him and his Ajax Godspeed.

Upon the dock and all through the journey to London the Russian had his hands full with Ajax. Each new face of the thousands that came within the anthropoid’s ken must be carefully scrutinized, much to the horror of many of his victims; but at last, failing, apparently, to discover whom he sought, the great ape relapsed into morbid indifference, only occasionally evincing interest in a passing face.

In London, Paulvitch went directly with his prize to a certain famous animal trainer. This man was much impressed with Ajax with the result that he agreed to train him for a lion’s share of the profits of exhibiting him, and in the meantime to provide for the keep of both the ape and his owner.

And so came Ajax to London, and there was forged another link in the chain of strange circumstances that were to affect the lives of many people.

Chapter 2

Mr. Harold Moore was a bilious-countenanced, studious young man. He took himself very seriously, and life, and his work, which latter was the tutoring of the young son of a British nobleman. He felt that his charge was not making the progress that his parents had a right to expect, and he was now conscientiously explaining this fact to the boy’s mother.

It’s not that he isn’t bright, he was saying; if that were true I should have hopes of succeeding, for then I might bring to bear all my energies in overcoming his obtuseness; but the trouble is that he is exceptionally intelligent, and learns so quickly that I can find no fault in the matter of the preparation of his lessons. What concerns me, however, is that fact that he evidently takes no interest whatever in the subjects we are studying. He merely accomplishes each lesson as a task to be rid of as quickly as possible and I am sure that no lesson ever again enters his mind until the hours of study and recitation once more arrive. His sole interests seem to be feats of physical prowess and the reading of everything that he can get hold of relative to savage beasts and the lives and customs of uncivilized peoples; but particularly do stories of animals appeal to him. He will sit for hours together poring over the work of some African explorer, and upon two occasions I have found him setting up in bed at night reading Carl Hagenbeck’s book on men and beasts.

The boy’s mother tapped her foot nervously upon the hearth rug.

You discourage this, of course? she ventured.

Mr. Moore shuffled embarrassedly.

I—ah—essayed to take the book from him, he replied, a slight flush mounting his sallow cheek; but—ah—your son is quite muscular for one so young.

He wouldn’t let you take it? asked the mother.

He would not, confessed the tutor. He was perfectly good natured about it; but he insisted upon pretending that he was a gorilla and that I was a chimpanzee attempting to steal food from him. He leaped upon me with the most savage growls I ever heard, lifted me completely above his head, hurled me upon his bed, and after going through a pantomime indicative of choking me to death he stood upon my prostrate form and gave voice to a most fearsome shriek, which he explained was the victory cry of a bull ape. Then he carried me to the door, shoved me out into the hall and locked me from his room.

For several minutes neither spoke again. It was the boy’s mother who finally broke the silence.

It is very necessary, Mr. Moore, she said, that you do everything in your power to discourage this tendency in Jack, he—; but she got no further. A loud Whoop! from the direction of the window brought them both to their feet. The room was upon the second floor of the house, and opposite the window to which their attention had been attracted was a large tree, a branch of which spread to within a few feet of the sill. Upon this branch now they both discovered the subject of their recent conversation, a tall, well-built boy, balancing with ease upon the bending limb and uttering loud shouts of glee as he noted the terrified expressions upon the faces of his audience.

The mother and tutor both rushed toward the window but before they had crossed half the room the boy had leaped nimbly to the sill and entered the apartment with them.

‘The wild man from Borneo has just come to town,’ he sang, dancing a species of war dance about his terrified mother and scandalized tutor, and ending up by throwing his arms about the former’s neck and kissing her upon either cheek.

Oh, Mother, he cried, there’s a wonderful, educated ape being shown at one of the music halls. Willie Grimsby saw it last night. He says it can do everything but talk. It rides a bicycle, eats with knife and fork, counts up to ten, and ever so many other wonderful things, and can I go and see it too? Oh, please, Mother—please let me.

Patting the boy’s cheek affectionately, the mother shook her head negatively. No, Jack, she said; you know I do not approve of such exhibitions.

I don’t see why not, Mother, replied the boy. All the other fellows go and they go to the Zoo, too, and you’ll never let me do even that. Anybody’d think I was a girl—or a mollycoddle. Oh, Father, he exclaimed, as the door opened to admit a tall gray-eyed man. Oh, Father, can’t I go?

Go where, my son? asked the newcomer.

He wants to go to a music hall to see a trained ape, said the mother, looking warningly at her husband.

Who, Ajax? questioned the man.

The boy nodded.

Well, I don’t know that I blame you, my son, said the father, I wouldn’t mind seeing him myself. They say he is very wonderful, and that for an anthropoid he is unusually large. Let’s all go, Jane—what do you say? And he turned toward his wife, but that lady only shook her head in a most positive manner, and turning to Mr. Moore asked him if it was not time that he and Jack were in the study for the morning recitations. When the two had left she turned toward her husband.

John, she said, something must be done to discourage Jack’s tendency toward anything that may excite the cravings for the savage life which I fear he has inherited from you. You know from your own experience how strong is the call of the wild at times. You know that often it has necessitated a stern struggle on your part to resist the almost insane desire which occasionally overwhelms you to plunge once again into the jungle life that claimed you for so many years, and at the same time you know, better than any other, how frightful a fate it would be for Jack, were the trail to the savage jungle made either alluring or easy to him.

I doubt if there is any danger of his inheriting a taste for jungle life from me, replied the man, for I cannot conceive that such a thing may be transmitted from father to son. And sometimes, Jane, I think that in your solicitude for his future you go a bit too far in your restrictive measures. His love for animals—his desire, for example, to see this trained ape—is only natural in a healthy, normal boy of his age. Just because he wants to see Ajax is no indication that he would wish to marry an ape, and even should he, far be it from you Jane to have the right to cry ‘shame!’ and John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, put an arm about his wife, laughing good-naturedly down into her upturned face before he bent his head and kissed her. Then, more seriously, he continued: You have never told Jack anything concerning my early life, nor have you permitted me to, and in this I think that you have made a mistake. Had I been able to tell him of the experiences of Tarzan of the Apes I could doubtless have taken much of the glamour and romance from jungle life that naturally surrounds it in the minds of those who have had no experience of it. He might then have profited by my experience, but now, should the jungle lust ever claim him, he will have nothing to guide him but his own impulses, and I know how powerful these may be in the wrong direction at times.

But Lady Greystoke only shook her head as she had a hundred other times when the subject had claimed her attention in the past.

No, John, she insisted, I shall never give my consent to the implanting in Jack’s mind of any suggestion of the savage life which we both wish to preserve him from.

It was evening before the subject was again referred to and then it was raised by Jack himself. He had been sitting, curled in a large chair, reading, when he suddenly looked up and addressed his father.

Why, he asked, coming directly to the point, can’t I go and see Ajax?

Your mother does not approve, replied his father.

Do you?

That is not the question, evaded Lord Greystoke. It is enough that your mother objects.

I am going to see him, announced the boy, after a few moments of thoughtful silence. I am not different from Willie Grimsby, or any other of the fellows who have been to see him. It did not harm them and it will not harm me. I could go without telling you; but I would not do that. So I tell you now, beforehand, that I am going to see Ajax.

There was nothing disrespectful or defiant in the boy’s tone or manner. His was merely a dispassionate statement of facts. His father could scarce repress either a smile or a show of the admiration he felt for the manly course his son had pursued.

I admire your candor, Jack, he said. Permit me to be candid, as well. If you go to see Ajax without permission, I shall punish you. I have never inflicted corporal punishment upon you, but I warn you that should you disobey your mother’s wishes in this instance, I shall.

Yes, sir, replied the boy; and then: I shall tell you, sir, when I have been to see Ajax.

Mr. Moore’s room was next to that of his youthful charge, and it was the tutor’s custom to have a look into the boy’s each evening as the former was about to retire. This evening

Reviews for The Son Of Tarzan

[spyderman58 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My favorite so far. Can't wait to read the next in the series.

[joe73-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Following Clayton as he grows up in the wild is a treat. You cannot go wrong with Burroughs, His characters are awesome.

[bridgey_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Tarzan of the Apes - Edgar Rice Burrows ****I always knew Tarzan was based on a book, but I didn?t realize just how many were written, I always assumed it was just a one off publication and the films sort of took over. There were 24 original novels which spawned numerous other books after the death of the author.I think nearly everyone knows the story of the boy who is raised by jungle apes following the death of his family, how he rises to become their leader, falls in love with Jane and returns to civilization. But I wonder how many people have actually read the source material? Firstly I think most people may be shocked at the level of violence in the books, things aren?t all nice and the fight scenes are fairly graphic, especially when you consider this was written in 1912. Burroughs certainly wasn?t afraid to hold back and you really get a sense of adventure that can be missing from other books of this type. Of course, with the book being this old you have to view it from the times in which it was written and the outdated view of the world may cause an amount of offense in these times of often misplaced political correctness. If you are able to overlook these themes, swallow the numerous coincidences and unbelievable parts (in particular Tarzan teaching himself to write?.) and what you will be left with is a book that is very readable and contains enough content to make probably 3 or 4 full length films. Expect everything that makes a jungle adventure special and different: wild animals, rough terrain, cannibals and desolation. It is easy to see how Tarzan captured the imagination of the times and has remained an iconic figure ever since and is still in print over a century later.I really did enjoy reading the book, but not enough that I think I will actively seek out the next in the series. If it falls into my lap then I may well have a look, but that?s about it. Well worth a read, just to see when the Legend of Greystoke originated.

[shakirh.b3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Lord Greystoke and his Lady Greystoke was going to Africa. On the ship they was an old angry captain that hated the crew except for the high ranked me. He would shoot or beat the men if they dare to say no to his order. Lady Greystoke died and then her husband was killed by the king ape leaving their son behind. He was raised by the apes in the jungle. He became known as Tarzan instead of using his name John. He does not know that he is human, yet he felt out of place in the tribe of apes because he was the only one that was hairless. He soon found his parents cabin and in this way he found out that he was a human being. He also wanted to be the leader of the apes and he challenge White Eyes to a fight. Tarzan won the fight and became the leader. He was bought back to England by D'Amot where he met his grandfather and fell in love with a girl name Jane. Jane taught him English, French and how to dance.This book is very adventurous. Tarzan is a great hunter with skills like no other. He is able to fight and teaches himself to read. Tarzan also killed a gorilla who attacked him. He mourned and screamed when his mother ape was killed. It is amazing that he also learn to speak english

[dbeveridge_6 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A great, classic escapist adventure melodrama.

[radaghast_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Well-written classic literature. Much better than his sci-fi.

[mirrani_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Why did it take me so long to pick up this classic? This is your typical little adventure from a time when adventure series were very popular. Nothing complicated here, just good fun in the classic way. People who have seen various movie versions might be disappointed in the book because it won't be what they expect, but movies never follow a book exactly and I think most of us are aware of that by now. I have to say in most cases I enjoyed this book much better than the theatrical equivalents.

[scott_hercher · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A surprisingly entertaining book -- far different from my preconceptions of what to expect. It makes me want to read the next book in the series.

[brakketh-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very enjoyable adventure story though the colonial and class attitudes overwhelm the story at times.

[savageknight_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The first thing that caught my eye about this book was the gorgeous Neil Adams cover. The next was the realization that I have never actually read the book! Another “it’s about timeâ€? moment! Although quite familiar with the legend and history of Tarzan, that knowledge had not come from the actual book. Instead, like many, it came from the movies, television serials, and comics.What really struck me about the novel was how well it read. Given that it was written almost 100 years ago (!) it was neither stale nor insipid. The characters were well defined and definitely of their time, but not so impossible to relate to. And, if you can accept how Tarzan was nourished from his 1st year onwards, there’s enough logical thought to explain how he not only survived, but thrived.All in all, I loved it and thoroughly enjoyed it. Yes, I may always have been partial to jungle tales and jungle living, but there’s something quite appealing about primordial and instinctive living and the power love has to expand our personal boundaries. After closing the book my first thought was to get my hands on more (or at least the sequel). 5 stars for this book. I couldn’t get enough of it.

[kale.dyer · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very enjoyable adventure story though the colonial and class attitudes overwhelm the story at times.

[ecataldi-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A surprisingly quick read! I found myself enjoying it more than I thought I would, and I feel that this would have been even more sensationally astounding at the beginning of the twentieth century. Tarzan is born on the coast of Africa to two loving English parents who have been dropped off ship by a mutinous crew. His parents die during his infancy and he is raised by Kala, a loving ape who just lost her own child. He is reared in ape fashion and lives as they do become "king of the jungle," when he stumbles upon his parents cabin he begins to teach himself to write in English from the books they left behind. When a ship arrives with a beautiful young girl he is enamoured and tries to woo her with actions and words since he cannot speak. Compelling, and exciting, this adventure story has something for everyone, even though the ending is a little lacking (this is the first in the series).

[dbsovereign · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A self-made noble beast, Tarzan's plight is every man's. Burroughs created a living myth and one that hints at how we might all be better off swinging from those vines.

[npjacobsen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I first read this book some 40 odd years ago, and it became one of my favorites. Reading it again changed little, except maybe a deeper love of the story.John and Alice Clayton, Lord and Lady Greystoke, are put ashore on the west coast of Africa after the crew of their vessel mutinees and kills the officers. Shortly thereafter, Alice gives birth to a bouncing baby boy. Over the course of a year, John builds a very sturdy cabin for their habitation and safety, but Alice could not cope and finally succumbed. So distraught was John that he neglected to latch the door to the cabin, allowing Kerchack, king of the great apes, easy access and spelled the end for John.Luckily for the baby, Kala had dropped her newborn, killing it. She rapidly traded her dead baby for the crying young Lord Greystoke and raised the human as her own and named him Tarzan. So begins the life and times of Tarzan of the apes, who used his superior intellect to become king of his tribe and the most feared Hunter in all of Africa.

[douggoodman · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

What I love about Tarzan of the Apes is how so very different the book is from all the adaptations that came after it. Because of that, this book is full of wonderful unexpected surprises in plot and character.

[sweetzombieducky · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Really enjoyed this. Full of action and romance. Particularly enjoyable was Tarzan's childhood.

[scribblingsprite · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Most people hate cliffhangers. I absolutely love them. I love the anticipation(and even slight frustration) they can make you feel.

But that was a devious, DEVIOUS ending. I guess I'm off to download book two...

Full review to come.

[pmcnamee67 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Very strong first half - like a Jack London survival tale, but the second act gives way to social farce & plodding romance with a very rushed, sloppy ending.

[baswood · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

" Jane her lithe, young form flattened against the trunk of a great tree, her hands tight pressed against her rising and falling bosom, and her eyes wide with mingles horror, fascination, fear, and admiration - watched the primordial ape battle with the primeval man for possession of a woman - for her. As the great muscles of the man's back and shoulders knotted beneath the tension of his efforts, and the huge biceps and forearm held at bay those mighty tusks, the veil of centuries of civilization and culture was swept from the blurred vision of the Baltimore girl."Edgar Rice Burroughs knew how to tell a good story; his prose carries the reader along effortlessly page after page. Pulp fiction it may be, but it is so well written and at times so convincing that he makes his fantastical stories seam real. I used to gobble these books up as a teenager, and re-reading Tarzan today I was soon under it's spell and could hardly put the book down. Burroughs was in love with his male characters especially his hero Tarzan and if his descriptions of that perfect body are going to put you off then perhaps it's not for you:She watched him from beneath half-closed lids, Tarzan crossed the little circular clearing toward the trees upon the further side. She noted the graceful majesty of his carriage, the perfect symmetry of his magnificent figure and the poise of his well-shaped head upon his broad shoulders. What a perfect creature! There could be naught of cruelty or baseness beneath that godlike exterior. Never, she thought had such a man strode the earth since God created the first man in his own image." Burroughs Tarzan is a savage creature, but he is also a noble savage and this is the hook that makes him so attractive. Episodes of the Tarzan story first appeared in 1912 and it was published in book form in 1914 and while the story is very much of it's time as regards attitudes to women and black people, I did not find it overtly racist or sexist; a black maid is singled out as a figure of fun, but then so are two English academics. The black natives are savage and cruel, but Burroughs points out that this is the result of even crueller barbarities practiced on them by white officers of Leopold II's of Belgium regime. Tarzan is still a rip roaring adventure yarn with a super hero who one could almost believe in and one you might want to believe in. If ever I am in a reading slump I shall just pick up one of these stories, hell I might pick one up if I am not in a slump especially as the Tarzan and Jane story in this first of the series ends in a cliff hanger. Great fun and a four star read.

[piyushc_34 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Tarzan has never been my favourite character, be it the comics or the cartoons - now Mowgli was an entirely different story! And the irony strikes. In the last year or so, I have read both the Jungle Books, which were barely readable, the characters nowhere as snappy as I remembered them from my childhood cartoons.And so, it was with great skepticism that I started with Tarzan of the Apes, and was I surprised! The writing was very simple, the story captivating and the characters endearing, even if stereotypical - be it the pretty, pretty Jane, the absent minded Professor or the mighty Tarzan. The never ending victories of Tarzan were not dull, nor were the highly noticeable and distinct villains bothersome. The repetitive fainting of poor Esmeralda did get on my nerves a few time, but well, she had a character to play as well, did I mention stereotypical?The ending of the book didn't lack in flourish either and I am left wondering, whether to dare the sequel and risk getting my impression shattered or go the way of Dune and Ender's Game and leave the series on a high with fond memories and none of the regrets.4/5

[reneh-2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first and best book about Tarzan. The credibility of this kind of stories is questionable, but it reads well, and you do not see the flaws immediately. Simply a good and entertaining read.

[gregorio_roth · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A good read from an antiquated age.

[kristelh_15 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Well, this is a simple childhood story, I don't really need to review it as we all are probably familiar with it. My generation grew up watching TV movies about the ape man. I liked them a lot back then. My granddaughters have sat in front of the TV watching Disney DVDs. Tarzan is the orphan child of Lord and Lady Graystoke who were put ashore after a mutiny on a ship they were sailing. Lady Greystoke dies when Tarzan is a baby and Lord Greystoke is killed by an ape leaving the infant boy in the crib. The female ape who's baby is dead exchanges it for Tarzan and thus Tarzan is raised as an ape. He teaches himself to read English. The story is one of survival, adventure, combat with nature and romance. It is surprising that the book has lasted because it also can be described as racist and sexist. On another level, the book idealizes man's relationship with nature verses civilization. You have the contrast of Tarzan and Clayton. Tarzan who ate by the laws of nature and Clayton who ate with the manners of society.

[cebellol · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The trials and tribulations of Tarzan and his friends are, without doubt, interesting. It's actually surprising the story is as short as it is. I'm debating on reading the others, but then again most books in a series pale in comparison to the first book, so I'm still at a bit of a loss there. The cast of characters is quite wonderful, and diverse, in a way. I love how the author made Tarzan play on the superstitions of the native tribes. I feel as though it added a sort of authenticity to him somehow, though I truly can't explain why I feel this way.

This was a lovely change from your traditional classic novel; it was short, sweet, & to the point. It was, however, mildly disappointing. I suppose that's because I have this lovely Disney image of the story in my head, but I was really hoping, after all the work he went through, that Tarzan would get the girl.

[jvioland_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A classic. Burroughs knows how to write action. I had thought it would be trite and unbelievable. I was very wrong. I thoroughly enjoyed the book and lost the sense that I was reading. I strongly recommend Tarzan of the Apes even though it appears archaic.

[benedict8-2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was surprised at how interesting and well written this book still is.

[datrappert · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It is necessary to get past the awkward dialogue, especially toward the beginning of the book, and the ridiculously offensive character of Jane's black maid, who spends most of the book in a faint. And there are a few more silly things along the way--but, nevertheless, the narrative, especially the growing infatuation of Tarzan with Jane, will grab you and hold you to the satisfying conclusion. I have only read Burroughs' science fiction before--and that was many years ago, but I'm glad I finally picked up Tarzan. For the most part, Burroughs does his best to give his far-fetched story the semblance of believability, such as his explanations of how Tarzan, orphaned as an infant, learns on his own how to read English--but not speak it. The characters are memorable, too, though they are hardly complex. I will definitely continue reading the series--especially since Burroughs ends this one on a cliffhanger!

[bnielsen_30 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

England og Afrika, ca 1830Tarzan og Jane lever som Lord og Lady Greystoke i England. Deres søn, Jack, er intelligent og stærk som sin far og stærkt mod Lady Jane's vilje er han meget interesseret i Afrika og dyr. For 10 år siden søgte et par russere Paulvitch og Rokoff at slå Tarzan ihjel, men det mislykkedes og de sidste 10 år har Paulvitch fristet en kummerlig tilværelse. Han dukker op i London ifølge med aben Ajax, som Tarzan kender som Akut. Paulvitch undfanger en plan om at få både hævn og penge ud af Lord Greystoke og tilskynder Jack til at blive gode venner med Akut.???

[atimco-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Tarzan of the Apes, first published in serial form in 1912, brought its author instant fame. Edgar Rice Burroughs went on to write twenty-four sequels featuring the adventures of his iconic Ape-Man, and today the character is part of our cultural background as the subject of many adaptations in film and comic strips. Interestingly, the famous line "I Tarzan. You Jane" doesn't even appear in the book. And yet it's become one of the most recognizable features of the character. The plot is well known; after his parents die in the jungle of Africa, young Tarzan is raised by a clan of apes, far from the rest of humanity. Though he eventually realizes he is not an ape, Tarzan lives by the jungle code and slowly vanquishes all the dangers of the jungle through his superior human reasoning and intelligence. When a treasure-hunting expedition lands on his secluded shore, Tarzan is drawn to the people of his own race, especially the young woman Jane Porter. But how can a king of the apes ever hope to win the love of a cultured English girl?I admit, I was very drawn into the story and I can see why it has been perennially popular. Burroughs' attempts to make animal life realistic yet intelligible to his readers are generally successful, and we want to see how Tarzan will meet the challenges of his life. At the same time, we are intensely interested in how Tarzan will cope with other humans. A couple criticisms, though: Burroughs is extremely ethnocentric, constantly pointing out Tarzan's mental, moral, intellectual, and physical superiority derived from his having descended from a line of English nobility. The natives don't fare well in this tale, as one might expect given that Burroughs writes from an evolutionary perspective. It's a product of its time, sure, but racism is still wrong. I was able to enjoy the story despite these elements, but they certainly caused me to roll my eyes more than once. I was also disappointed with the story itself. Everything was going well until Tarzan comes to Europe, learns polished manners, comes into money, etc. (all of which is very artificially constructed). Jane Porter's threatened marriage with the moneylender Robert Canler seems tacked on, and it's a little too convenient that she would be caught in a forest fire from which only Tarzan the Muscular can save her. And then her decision at the end! And Tarzan's pathetic acquiescence to it! I shut the book and felt profoundly cheated, even while trying to understand why Burroughs would do this. And yet at the same time I wanted to find the next sequel, Return of Tarzan, and find out what happens next. No wonder Burroughs was able to sell twenty-four more of Tarzan's adventures. There really is something addicting about this character. I enjoyed this story?it certainly kept me reading at a fast pace?and if I ever see any of Burroughs' Tarzan sequels, you can be sure I'll snap them up. But I'm not sure I'll ever revisit this book. It has a great character and initial setting that are sadly compromised by later plot contortions and Tarzan's annoyingly, unnecessarily "heroic" choice at the end.Edit: Never mind. I just read the plot summary of Return of Tarzan on Wikipedia and I think I have had enough of his pulp fiction adventures to last a lifetime. Oy vey.

[philsyphe · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

While I?m willing to suspend belief and read about Tarzan being brought up by apes, fitting into their culture, etc., I can?t suspend belief regarding his ability to teach himself to read English, or to learn to speak it ? and French ? in record-breaking time. Other aspects like this spoil what could?ve been a gripping adventure novel. It does have some engaging moments, notably Tarzan?s time spent with the apes, but it goes downhill once he grows ?civilised?.This is one of several ?classics? that I?ve read after watching countless film and TV adaptations, thus beforehand I expected something wonderful, only to be disappointed.In short, it?s not a bad read, but the unbelievability brings it down.