A Princess of Mars

By Edgar Rice Burroughs and Frank E. Schoonover

The American Civil War has just ended and John Carter, a former Confederate soldier, is searching for gold in the West. Instead of discovering riches, he breathes in a strange gas in a cave that transports him to Mars. Thanks to Mars's lesser gravity, John finds himself stronger than on earth. He joins up with the warlike Green Martians, one of several Martian groups, and achieves a high rank. But when his tribe captures Dejah Thoris, the Red Martian princess, John finds himself in the middle of Martian politics—and in love. A tale of planetary romance, this classic pulp fiction science fantasy novel by American author Edgar Rice Burroughs was first published in 1917. This is an unabridged version, with illustrations by American artist Frank E. Schoonover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lerner Publishing
• Release date: Jan 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781467787703

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950) is the creator of Tarzan, one of the most popular fictional characters of all time, and John Carter, hero of the Barsoom science fiction series. Burroughs was a prolific author, writing almost 70 books before his death in 1950, and was one of the first authors to popularize a character across multiple media, as he did with Tarzan’s appearance in comic strips, movies, and merchandise. Residing in Hawaii at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941, Burroughs was drawn into the Second World War and became one of the oldest war correspondents at the time. Edgar Rice Burroughs’s popularity continues to be memorialized through the community of Tarzana, California, which is named after the ranch he owned in the area, and through the Burrough crater on Mars, which was named in his honour.

Book preview

Burroughs.

Chapter I

ON THE ARIZONA HILLS

I am a very old man; how old I do not know. Possibly I am a hundred, possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I have always been a man, a man of about thirty. I appear today as I did forty years and more ago, and yet I feel that I cannot go on living forever; that some day I shall die the real death from which there is no resurrection. I do not know why I should fear death, I who have died twice and am still alive; but yet I have the same horror of it as you who have never died, and it is because of this terror of death, I believe, that I am so convinced of my mortality.

And because of this conviction I have determined to write down the story of the interesting periods of my life and of my death. I cannot explain the phenomena; I can only set down here in the words of an ordinary soldier of fortune a chronicle of the strange events that befell me during the ten years that my dead body lay undiscovered in an Arizona cave.

I have never told this story, nor shall mortal man see this manuscript until after I have passed over for eternity. I know that the average human mind will not believe what it cannot grasp, and so I do not purpose being pilloried by the public, the pulpit, and the press, and held up as a colossal liar when I am but telling the simple truths which some day science will substantiate. Possibly the suggestions which I gained upon Mars, and the knowledge which I can set down in this chronicle, will aid in an earlier understanding of the mysteries of our sister planet; mysteries to you, but no longer mysteries to me.

My name is John Carter; I am better known as Captain Jack Carter of Virginia. At the close of the Civil War I found myself possessed of several hundred thousand dollars (Confederate) and a captain’s commission in the cavalry arm of an army which no longer existed; the servant of a state which had vanished with the hopes of the South. Masterless, penniless, and with my only means of livelihood, fighting, gone, I determined to work my way to the southwest and attempt to retrieve my fallen fortunes in a search for gold.

I spent nearly a year prospecting in company with another Confederate officer, Captain James K. Powell of Richmond. We were extremely fortunate, for late in the winter of 1865, after many hardships and privations, we located the most remarkable gold-bearing quartz vein that our wildest dreams had ever pictured. Powell, who was a mining engineer by education, stated that we had uncovered over a million dollars worth of ore in a trifle over three months.

As our equipment was crude in the extreme we decided that one of us must return to civilization, purchase the necessary machinery and return with a sufficient force of men properly to work the mine.

As Powell was familiar with the country, as well as with the mechanical requirements of mining we determined that it would be best for him to make the trip. It was agreed that I was to hold down our claim against the remote possibility of its being jumped by some wandering prospector.

On March 3, 1866, Powell and I packed his provisions on two of our burros, and bidding me good-bye he mounted his horse, and started down the mountainside toward the valley, across which led the first stage of his journey.

The morning of Powell’s departure was, like nearly all Arizona mornings, clear and beautiful; I could see him and his little pack animals picking their way down the mountainside toward the valley, and all during the morning I would catch occasional glimpses of them as they topped a hog back or came out upon a level plateau. My last sight of Powell was about three in the afternoon as he entered the shadows of the range on the opposite side of the valley.

Some half hour later I happened to glance casually across the valley and was much surprised to note three little dots in about the same place I had last seen my friend and his two pack animals. I am not given to needless worrying, but the more I tried to convince myself that all was well with Powell, and that the dots I had seen on his trail were antelope or wild horses, the less I was able to assure myself.

Since we had entered the territory we had not seen a hostile Indian, and we had, therefore, become careless in the extreme, and were wont to ridicule the stories we had heard of the great numbers of these vicious marauders that were supposed to haunt the trails, taking their toll in lives and torture of every white party which fell into their merciless clutches.

Powell, I knew, was well armed and, further, an experienced Indian fighter; but I too had lived and fought for years among the Sioux in the North, and I knew that his chances were small against a party of cunning trailing Apaches. Finally I could endure the suspense no longer, and, arming myself with my two Colt revolvers and a carbine, I strapped two belts of cartridges about me and catching my saddle horse, started down the trail taken by Powell in the morning.

As soon as I reached comparatively level ground I urged my mount into a canter and continued this, where the going permitted, until, close upon dusk, I discovered the point where other tracks joined those of Powell. They were the tracks of unshod ponies, three of them, and the ponies had been galloping.

I followed rapidly until, darkness shutting down, I was forced to await the rising of the moon, and given an opportunity to speculate on the question of the wisdom of my chase. Possibly I had conjured up impossible dangers, like some nervous old housewife, and when I should catch up with Powell would get a good laugh for my pains. However, I am not prone to sensitiveness, and the following of a sense of duty, wherever it may lead, has always been a kind of fetich with me throughout my life; which may account for the honors bestowed upon me by three republics and the decorations and friendships of an old and powerful emperor and several lesser kings, in whose service my sword has been red many a time.

About nine o’clock the moon was sufficiently bright for me to proceed on my way and I had no difficulty in following the trail at a fast walk, and in some places at a brisk trot until, about midnight, I reached the water hole where Powell had expected to camp. I came upon the spot unexpectedly, finding it entirely deserted, with no signs of having been recently occupied as a camp.

I was interested to note that the tracks of the pursuing horsemen, for such I was now convinced they must be, continued after Powell with only a brief stop at the hole for water; and always at the same rate of speed as his.

I was positive now that the trailers were Apaches and that they wished to capture Powell alive for the fiendish pleasure of the torture, so I urged my horse onward at a most dangerous pace, hoping against hope that I would catch up with the red rascals before they attacked him.

Further speculation was suddenly cut short by the faint report of two shots far ahead of me. I knew that Powell would need me now if ever, and I instantly urged my horse to his topmost speed up the narrow and difficult mountain trail.

I had forged ahead for perhaps a mile or more without hearing further sounds, when the trail suddenly debouched onto a small, open plateau near the summit of the pass. I had passed through a narrow, overhanging gorge just before entering suddenly upon this table land, and the sight which met my eyes filled me with consternation and dismay.

The little stretch of level land was white with Indian tepees, and there were probably half a thousand red warriors clustered around some object near the center of the camp. Their attention was so wholly riveted to this point of interest that they did not notice me, and I easily could have turned back into the dark recesses of the gorge and made my escape with perfect safety. The fact, however, that this thought did not occur to me until the following day removes any possible right to a claim to heroism to which the narration of this episode might possibly otherwise entitle me.

I do not believe that I am made of the stuff which constitutes heroes, because, in all of the hundreds of instances that my voluntary acts have placed me face to face with death, I cannot recall a single one where any alternative step to that I took occurred to me until many hours later. My mind is evidently so constituted that I am subconsciously forced into the path of duty without recourse to tiresome mental processes. However that may be, I have never regretted that cowardice is not optional with me.

In this instance I was, of course, positive that Powell was the center of attraction, but whether I thought or acted first I do not know, but within an instant from the moment the scene broke upon my view I had whipped out my revolvers and was charging down upon the entire army of warriors, shooting rapidly, and whooping at the top of my lungs. Singlehanded, I could not have pursued better tactics, for the red men, convinced by sudden surprise that not less than a regiment of regulars was upon them, turned and fled in every direction for their bows, arrows, and rifles.

The view which their hurried routing disclosed filled me with apprehension and with rage. Under the clear rays of the Arizona moon lay Powell, his body fairly bristling with the hostile arrows of the braves. That he was already dead I could not but be convinced, and yet I would have saved his body from mutilation at the hands of the Apaches as quickly as I would have saved the man himself from death.

Riding close to him I reached down from the saddle, and grasping his cartridge belt drew him up across the withers of my mount. A backward glance convinced me that to return by the way I had come would be more hazardous than to continue across the plateau, so, putting spurs to my poor beast, I made a dash for the opening to the pass which I could distinguish on the far side of the table land.

The Indians had by this time discovered that I was alone and I was pursued with imprecations, arrows, and rifle balls. The fact that it is difficult to aim anything but imprecations accurately by moonlight, that they were upset by the sudden and unexpected manner of my advent, and that I was a rather rapidly moving target saved me from the various deadly projectiles of the enemy and permitted me to reach the shadows of the surrounding peaks before an orderly pursuit could be organized.

My horse was traveling practically unguided as I knew that I had probably less knowledge of the exact location of the trail to the pass than he, and thus it happened that he entered a defile which led to the summit of the range and not to the pass which I had hoped would carry me to the valley and to safety. It is probable, however, that to this fact I owe my life and the remarkable experiences and adventures which befell me during the following ten years.

My first knowledge that I was on the wrong trail came when I heard the yells of the pursuing savages suddenly grow fainter and fainter far off to my left.

I knew then that they had passed to the left of the jagged rock formation at the edge of the plateau, to the right of which my horse had borne me and the body of Powell.

I drew rein on a little level promontory overlooking the trail below and to my left, and saw the party of pursuing savages disappearing around the point of a neighboring peak.

I knew the Indians would soon discover that they were on the wrong trail and that the search for me would be renewed in the right direction as soon as they located my tracks.

I had gone but a short distance further when what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine.

I had followed this trail for perhaps a hundred yards when a sharp turn to the right brought me to the mouth of a large cave. The opening was about four feet in height and three to four feet wide, and at this opening the trail ended.

It was now morning, and, with the customary lack of dawn which is a startling characteristic of Arizona, it had become daylight almost without warning.

Dismounting, I laid Powell upon the ground, but the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest spark of life. I forced water from my canteen between his dead lips, bathed his face and rubbed his hands, working over him continuously for the better part of an hour in the face of the fact that I knew him to be dead.

I was very fond of Powell; he was thoroughly a man in every respect; a polished southern gentleman; a staunch and true friend; and it was with a feeling of the deepest grief that I finally gave up my crude endeavors at resuscitation.

Leaving Powell’s body where it lay on the ledge I crept into the cave to reconnoiter. I found a large chamber, possibly a hundred feet in diameter and thirty or forty feet in height; a smooth and well-worn floor, and many other evidences that the cave had, at some remote period, been inhabited. The back of the cave was so lost in dense shadow that I could not distinguish whether there were openings into other apartments or not.

As I was continuing my examination I commenced to feel a pleasant drowsiness creeping over me which I attributed to the fatigue of my long and strenuous ride, and the reaction from the excitement of the fight and the pursuit. I felt comparatively safe in my present location as I knew that one man could defend the trail to the cave against an army.

I soon became so drowsy that I could scarcely resist the strong desire to throw myself on the floor of the cave for a few moments’ rest, but I knew that this would never do, as it would mean certain death at the hands of my red friends, who might be upon me at any moment. With an effort I started toward the opening of the cave only to reel drunkenly against a side wall, and from there slip prone upon the floor.

Chapter II

THE ESCAPE OF THE DEAD

A sense of delicious dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed, and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring to my feet but was horrified to discover that my muscles refused to respond to my will. I was now thoroughly awake, but as unable to move a muscle as though turned to stone. It was then, for the first time, that I noticed a slight vapor filling the cave. It was extremely tenuous and only noticeable against the opening which led to daylight. There also came to my nostrils a faintly pungent odor, and I could only assume that I had been overcome by some poisonous gas, but why I should retain my mental faculties and yet be unable to move I could not fathom.

I lay facing the opening of the cave and where I could see the short stretch of trail which lay between the cave and the turn of the cliff around which the trail led. The noise of the approaching horses had ceased, and I judged the Indians were creeping stealthily upon me along the little ledge which led to my living tomb. I remember that I hoped they would make short work of me as I did not particularly relish the thought of the innumerable things they might do to me if the spirit prompted them.

I had not long to wait before a stealthy sound apprised me of their nearness, and then a war-bonneted, paint-streaked face was thrust cautiously around the shoulder of the cliff, and savage eyes looked into mine. That he could see me in the dim light of the cave I was sure for the early morning sun was falling full upon me through the opening.

The fellow, instead of approaching, merely stood and stared; his eyes bulging and his jaw dropped. And then another savage face appeared, and a third and fourth and fifth, craning their necks over the shoulders of their fellows whom they could not pass upon the narrow ledge. Each face was the picture of awe and fear, but for what reason I did not know, nor did I learn until ten years later. That there were still other braves behind those who regarded me was apparent from the fact that the leaders passed back whispered word to those behind them.

Suddenly a low but distinct moaning sound issued from the recesses of the cave behind me, and, as it reached the ears of the Indians, they turned and fled in terror, panic-stricken. So frantic were their efforts to escape from the unseen thing behind me that one of the braves was hurled headlong from the cliff to the rocks below. Their wild cries echoed in the canyon for a short time, and then all was still once more.

The sound which had frightened them was not repeated, but it had been sufficient as it was to start me speculating on the possible horror which lurked in the shadows at my back. Fear is a relative term and so I can only measure my feelings at that time by what I had experienced in previous positions of danger and by those that I have passed through since; but I can say without shame that if the sensations I endured during the next few minutes were fear, then may God help the coward, for cowardice is of a surety its own punishment.

To be held paralyzed, with one’s back toward some horrible and unknown danger from the very sound of which the ferocious Apache warriors turn in wild stampede, as a flock of sheep would madly flee from a pack of wolves, seems to me the last word in fearsome predicaments for a man who had ever been used to fighting for his life with all the energy of a powerful physique.

Several times I thought I heard faint sounds behind me as of somebody moving cautiously, but eventually even these ceased, and I was left to the contemplation of my position without interruption. I could but vaguely conjecture the cause of my paralysis, and my only hope lay in that it might pass off as suddenly as it had fallen upon me.

Late in the afternoon my horse, which had been standing with dragging rein before the cave, started slowly down the trail, evidently in search of food and water, and I was left alone with my mysterious unknown companion and the dead body of my friend, which lay just within my range of

Reviews for A Princess of Mars

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

Ignoring the fact that we've disproved some of the myths of "Mars," actually quite a good read.

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

An easy read, John Carter's perfection is only a mild annoyance. I see why it is pulp, and fantasy and science fiction. It was fun, and that's all. I love Sola the best.

[bohemima · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first in the John Carter series, this book is a very quick, entertaining read.Mr. Carter seems to be about thirty, but his true age is unknown. When he hides from his pursuers in the back of a dark cave, he’s suddenly and unexpectedly transported to Mars. This book covers his initial encounters with the strange Martian “humans” and his romance with his true love, the inimitable Dajah Thoris, the princess of the title.Author Burroughs never pretended to be anything but a writer of pulp action stories. Thank goodness he excelled at his chosen field. The John Carter books have had an enormous influence on sci-fi thrillers over the years, and reading them is both entertaining and informative about how the genre started.Not every book has to be deep, meaningful, and important. Sometimes a reader just wants to have fun, and this book provides plenty of that.

[glennbell_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This book is a science fiction adventure. It is filled with combat and a romance. The story line is interesting but the plausibility of the actions of the characters is poor. This book is appropriate for a young reader as it is without any significant meaning and is merely entertaining.

[nwdavies-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I only hope the film can live up to it. Classic fantasy fiction. Never a dull moment. Loved it.

[karlstar_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Not much you can say about the Mars series of books that hasn't been said before. Burroughs was the first and best of the 'barbarian planet' writers, and his stories are great entertainment. The earthman, John Carter, gets transported astrally to Mars, where he is a fantastic fighter. He meets and falls in love with a princess there, and has to save her from all sorts of dangers. There's a rumor that there's a movie based on these books coming out, and I can't wait!

[norabelle414 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

audiobook - Pretty cheesy, but fun. My narrator had this really crazy old-school Southern accent which grated on my nerves a bit, but I knew it was appropriate. Due to the cheese-factor I expected a happy ending (but didn't get one), but then I remembered that this is old-school science fiction, so of course it has a true science fiction ending in which the main story is not actually resolved.

[rboyechko_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The beginning was a little hard to get through, since it read very much like an old Western. It got better, however, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed the book despite the shortcomings. The language was a little hard to get used to, simply because it sounded very pompous. Aside from that, I soon found myself quite engrossed in the book. It does tend to be chauvinistic, yet that can be expected from a white male writing at the turn of 20th century. I found Burroughs' vision of Mars quite refreshing, and either he borrowed something from earlier writers, or quite a few later writers borrowed their ideas of Mars from this very book. Some of the technology was quite amusing, since it showed a very close-minded look at the world; other technology was quite forward-thinking. What disappointed me the most was the ending. It felt very "Umm, I need to finish this book, so why don't I slap together a chapter or two that brings the story to an unbelievable climax, and then leave the reader hanging." It was akin to a children's fairy tale ending in "And they lived happily ever after for 10 years, at which point the evil step-mother returned and gave the princess a poisoned apple. The end." Aside from that, however, I think the book was pretty good.

[sf_addict · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Though seemingly far fetched from today's viewpoint it is an excellent adventure story.

[weakley_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a treat! Pulp ficton at it's best. John Carter is one the ultimate "mighty thewed fighting men". Burroughs was the master of this genre. You don't get anything unexpected in this story. It's all pretty prosaic. Even with that being the case it stills carries you from scene to scene and leaves you wanting to read the next chapter. The fighting companions, the beautiful maiden, the mysterious far flung cities, escape after escape that lead to further dangers. You have to love it!

[radaghast_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Perfect example of why being the first gets you undeserved accolades. Burroughs was one of the first science fiction writers. He was far from one of the best and the Barsoom series proves why.

[xicanti_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An American man is mystically transported to Mars; there, he falls in love with a beautiful princess and must fight to win her.First published in 1912 as a six-part serial adventure, this book holds up very well. Burroughs writes simply and elegantly; the book is fun, exciting, and very readable. It often enters the realm of melodrama, and the world is not, perhaps, as well-developed as modern readers have come to expect, but it's a rewarding read nonetheless. There's always something interesting going on, and the ending is just the sort of romantic cliffhanger that Burroughs excels at. When I first read this, I was more than eager to get my hands on the next volume so I could make sure everything turned out all right.It's important to remember that this book comes from a time when science fiction was about romance and adventure rather than technology and ideas; it's quite a bit lighter than modern fare, and this might put some readers off. However, those who enjoy quick, purely entertaining reads should get a big kick out of it. I know I did.

[alcracka · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

For now, anyway, I'm just going to rip off something I already wrote in the comments below. Sorry, I know that's terribly lazy.

"Princess of Mars" is a direct response to HG Wells' "War of the Worlds," in a lot of ways: in the latter, Wells talks about the effect of our heavier Earth gravity on the Martians, and in this book John Carter is basically Superman on Mars because of their lower gravity, and there are some other fun nods to WotW. But also ideologically: everyone knows Wells is a socialist, so when Burroughs says shit like this about the bad guys:Owning everything in common, even to your women and children, has resulted in your owning nothing in common. You hate each other as you hate all others except yourselves. (p. 54)it certainly seems like he's trying to engage Wells. But he's writing pretty simple wish-fulfillment stuff here: guy magically appears in magic place where he has magic powers and the hottest girl there is totally into him. At least on the evidence of this book, Burroughs just isn't a match for Wells.

Still fun to read them both together, though.

[minimarg · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A Princess of Mars follows the adventures of John Carter, Gentleman of VIrginia, when he finds himself on the surface of Mars. He is held prisioner by green martians, but falls in love with another prisoner, an red woman named Dejah Thoris. He saves her many times, and his love for her grows. They are seperated later, and John worries he will never see her again, or worse, that she is dead.

[dinosaurhorrorshow · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is my absolute favorite book! I love everything about Burroughs writing, how wonderfully cheesy it is, the over dramatic adventure. It is absolutely perfect!

[leonardgmokos · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The first three books of the series are in fact a complete trilogy. One that has endured for a century, and rightfully so, but if action and adventure novels are common enough, what is the lasting appeal of these books? Simple: Honour & loyalty. Essential qualities of character. I am finding in the home brood that the internet generation are missing, and lacking, these seeds. Books like these, themes like these, have shaped me. Read them. Put them into your kid's hands and no, they won't die if the iPod goes away for hours each day, forcing them to grow roots into self evaluation, meaning, and notions about character, loyalty, service.
Okay and it's fun. Hot chicks, swords, wild landscapes and wilder humanoids. You gotta love it.

[shanaqui_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Who did I see describing this as "old school, pulpy goodness"? I think that works pretty well. I'm not sure how I'm going to relate this to Herland in my SF/F essay, but I'm thinking on it... Obviously there's a ton of colonial, North American stuff going on here, wherein a white man from Earth comes and suspiciously saves a red-skinned princess and reforms the Martian societies to good American values...But it's still sort of fun, and not a chore to read: the prose is straight-forward and not too crammed with infodumps, and I did get sort of fond of one or two characters, mostly Sola (perhaps because she was "civilised" and relateable before the Great White Man's intervention). No real surprises here, and I don't think I'll be in a hurry to read other Barsoom books, but it's enjoyable in its way.

[jrthebutler · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

John Carter dies on earth and awakens on Mars.

[michael7kibler · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Recently, I have been reading the book, A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs, it s a very interesting book including a lot more detail than other books written in our time. A Princess of Mars is one of the best books I have read because of the attention to detail during every move that the main character, John Carter, happens to make. It starts off with John in Montana based back in the civil war era when the nation is slowly being ripped apart by the north, south war going on. When John Carter makes it to Mars, he soon becomes acquainted with the Tharks. Tharks are a very intelligent but harsh clan that does not like to intervene with other clans that live upon Mars. They later capture a prisoner that turns out to be a princess that John Carter saves and falls in love with but rather than running away with her he has to fight for her love against other Martians. I would have thought that the author would take a different approach that all of the clans would group together and make a civilization to better the community since Mars is a very dry place, but he split them up to form rivalries between different clans and later create more action between them. John Carter, is more for peace and love. If what he wants, involves killing or harming other people or things he does what he needs to do to get his way. Such as when he first got to Mars and met up with the Tharks he had a big six legged animal following him for protection. John wanted to adventure around and explore his surroundings. When that happened, the animal following him was hissing and growling because of the boundaries he was passing, soon after the great white, four armed, apes of Mars rushed him and harmed the animal that had sworn to protect him. He later killed the apes and the animal was harmed in the wrong doing of his adventure. The Chieftan, Tonka Jan, wanted to put down the animal because of the culture he had came from, but John spared the animals life because that isn't how humans react to those kind of things. John ended up killing Tonka Jan because of the dispute. I think, that the Author didn't mean to write so highly about John Carter at first because later on he put more thought into developing his back ground information. Such as in the beginning of the book he was so happy to be with the Tharks because they accepted him for being an excellent warrior but showed no love towards him. He later craved that love that he missed for the ten years when he was with the Tharks and ran away to find the better civilization and take his true love, lovely princess of helium Dejah Thoris, back to her home in the town of helium where the it was a custom to show love and affection for one another. The Customs of the Tharks were very different, where every male was a warrior no matter what and couldn't show affection to anyone of any kind. The most of all I think that this book was very good because of the detail that he puts into each and every paragraph. Edgar Rice Burroughs, the Author, talks to highly of the landscape like it s the great Alaskan wilderness and John carter has to conquer it. On a scale of one to ten; I give this book a ten because of the amount of thought put into developing the story. If you were to guess what the story was about before reading the book you would be shocked how it actually ends. The Princess of Mars, was by far one of the greatest books I have ever read.

[kingoftheicedragons · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I read this book after having it suggested that I may like it after saying that reading is for fun and pleasure and the escape it provides, and that fiction--especially science fiction--shouldn't be akin to reading a physics text book. And since this book is going to be made into a movie, I figure that it can't be all bad. I wasn't disappointed, though of course, John Carter is transported magically to Mars just by falling asleep, as if he's dreaming the whole adventure, so that would be sort of hard to grasp, but considering when the book was written, it was probably no more hard to believe in his day than space craft would be in ours. The plot is fairly simple. It's a love story, and John Carter's adventures to win the heart of the woman who he met and fell in love with. Though the number of people that John Carter killed to accomplish this task is somewhat overwhelming, and included the inhilation of an entire people. The writing was sort of hard to get into, with a lot of what I thought were unnecessary words. Because of this, it took me quite awhile to read it, and if I couldn't sit down and read for an extended period of time decided against doing so. Overall, though, I am curious to see what the next book brings, so it was exciting enough for me in that regard. At the same time, the next book in the series will not be the next book I read.

[wvlibrarydude · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Don't bother. Action was dull. Characters bland and without any appeal. Setting is out of date. Burroughs ethnocentric racist beliefs shine through. You can put that down as par for his time period, but it doesn't help when the story doesn't even grab you. There are better "classics" in the sci-fi and fantasy crowd (Robert E. Howard, Lovecraft, and more).

[leslie398 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It took a while for me to warm up to this 1912 classic but in the end it is a surprisingly good adventure & love story that happens to take place on Mars. This type of sci fi (aliens and weird creatures) is generally not what I care for but if you can accept the one giant leap of faith - how John Carter gets to Mars is inexplicable even to himself - Burroughs does a good job. And this book is the origin of the stereotype that men from Mars are green (which survived in the original Star Trek with the Klingons), although John Carter's love interest is a woman from the red people of Mars!

[antiquary_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first of Burroughs Mars series, not as well known as Tarzan but fairly good. It is frankly pulp fiction and makes no pretense of serious science: John Carter, a Confederate veteran (but apparently immortal --he has no memory of his birth), while escaping from Indians in the southwest, wishes to be on Mars and is there, a Mars based loosely on Percival Lowell, with drylands stretching between canals on which are ancient cities. The first is captured by the barbaric nomad green martians, giants with four arms, but later wins the love of a red Martian princess, fully human aside from laying eggs. While they are waiting for their first child to hatch, the machine that maintains the Martian atmosphere breaks down; Carter saves it but loses consciousness ad wakes on earth, where he tells his story to a young Burroughs and then vanishes, presumably back to Mars (where the second volume picks up.)

[killerx-2 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Really??? head-->desk

[dazzyj_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Dated but engaging, fast-paced pulp.

[the_hibernator · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In the post-Civil War era, John Carter enters an Arizona cave and is unexpectedly whisked away to Mars. There, he witnesses the depravity of a "highly developed" race of people who, because medicine helps them to live long lives, they perform population control by warring with each other. In some ways, though, they're happier than people on Earth, because they have no lawyers. John Carter takes Mars (and a Princess's heart) by storm. I'm not a huge fan of pulp fiction, so I expected very little out of this book. Because of that, I was impressed at how "not bad" it was. Actually, it was sort of interesting in a history-of-science-fiction sort of way. It did have some rather racist comments about Native Americans (an artifact of when it was written), and the Princess was a weak annoying little thing whose only virtues were rare beauty and a penchant for getting into trouble so that we could witness the excitement of her rescue (this is an artifact of being pulp). Overall, not too shabby. But not literature, either. I DID wonder whether John Carter was meant to be some sort of pulpy Christ figure. He was very good at saving people. And he had the right initials. ;)

[themadturtle · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was surprised at how well this book holds up considering it was written 95 years ago! I find the John Carter stories much more interesting than Tarzan. Brian Holsopple read the audiobook I listened to and he does a good job of making the older text more exciting. Good, classic sci-fi!

[wholehouselibrary · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very curious book. If I had read anything by Burroughs in the past, I don't recall. I would have remembered reading A Princess of Mars, though. For a book that was written nearly one hundred years ago (1911, I believe), Mr. Burroughs certainly had the physics worked out to a tee -- except for, perhaps that out-of-body, interplanetary-travel thing (a violation so bad that they should have revoked his literary license). I mean, REALLY! Cavorite has more plausibility. I was troubled by the consistency of impossible-problem-encountered, problem-overcome, although current-day movies tend to follow that same sort of monotony, but I enjoyed the sheer variety of issues and solutions that Burroughs packed into the book. I'll definitely be reading more.

[dknippling_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I wasn't expecting to like this as much as I did. Fantastic; I read it through in a sitting and enjoyed it from one end to the other. It was like he had some brilliant insight into how to push my happy buttons. Not something I'd read to increase my enlightenment or insight into life, but a good "lay down your troubles and be refreshed" kind of book.

[nataliesw · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I hate giving it only three stars, because I absolutely loved this series when I was a kid. I'm now a much more sophisticated reader; maybe the difference is also that the style seems dated now -- lots of telling, not so much showing. It's still better than the unfortunate recent film.