
Serve yourself, your children with the tools that seed intuitive thinking skills, books that challenge and enrich the imagination. Take them back to the time before the mind-controlling television and electronic games to the origins of the ideas that gave birth to these electronic miracles. - BOOKS that fuel the creative processes of the human imagination. Edgar Rice Burroughs was one such man and author that enriched the minds of many a person.
Excerpt:
About the Author
Edgar Rice Burroughs is one of the world's most
popular authors. With no previous experience as an
author, he wrote and sold his first novel--'A Princess
of Mars' in 1912. In the ensuing thirty-eight years until
his death in 1950, Burroughs wrote ninety-one books
and a host of short stories and articles. Although best
known as the creator of the classic Tarzan of the Apes
and John Carter of Mars, his restless imagination knew
few bounds. Burroughs's prolific pen ranged from the
American West to primitive Africa and on to romantic
adventure on the moon, the planets, and even beyond
the farthest star.
No one knows how many copies of ERB books have
been published throughout the world. It is conservative
to say, however, that with the translations into
thirty-two known languages, including Braille, the
number must ran into the hundreds of millions. When
one considers the additional worldwide following of
the Tarzan newspaper feature, radio programs, comic
magazines, motion pictures, and television,
Burroughs must have been known and loved by literally
a thousand million or more.
PROLOGUE
JASON GRIDLEY is a radio bug. Had he not been,
this story never would have been written. Jason is
twenty-three and scandalously good looking---too
good looking to be a bug of any sort. As a matter of
fact, he does not seem buggish at all---just a normal,
sane, young American, who knows a great deal about
many things in addition to radio; aeronautics, for example,
and golf, and tennis, and polo.
But this is not Jason's story---he is only an incident---
an important incident in my life that made this story
possible, and so, with a few more words of explanation,
we shall leave Jason to his tubes and waves and
amplifiers, concerning which he knows everything
and I nothing.
Jason is an orphan with an income, and after he
graduated from Stanford, he came down and bought
a couple of acres at Tarzana, and that is how and when
I met him.
While he was building he made my office his headquarters
and was often in my study and afterward I
returned the compliment by visiting him in his new
"lab," as he calls it---a quite large room at the rear of
his home, a quiet, restful room in a quiet, restful house
of the Spanish-American farm type---or we rode together
in the Santa Monica Mountains in the cool air
of early morning.
Jason is experimenting with some new principle
of radio concerning which the less I say the better it
will be for my reputation, since I know nothing whatsoever
about it and am likely never to.
Perhaps I am too old, perhaps I am too dumb, perhaps
I am just not interested---I prefer to ascribe my
abysmal and persistent ignorance of all things pertaining
to radio to the last state; that of disinterestedness;
it salves my pride.
I do know this, however, because Jason has told
me, that the idea he is playing with suggests an entirely
new and unsuspected---well, let us call it wave.
He says the idea was suggested to him by the vagaries
of static and in groping around in search of
some device to eliminate this he discovered in the
ether an undercurrent that operated according to no
previously known scientific laws.
At his Tarzana home he has erected a station and a
few mile's away, at the back of my ranch, another.
Between these stations we talk to one another through
some strange, ethereal medium that seems to pass
through all other waves and all other stations, unsuspected
and entirely harmless---so harmless is it that
it has not the slightest effect upon Jason's regular set,
standing in the same room and receiving over the
same aerial.
But this, which is not very interesting to any one
except Jason, is all by the way of getting to the beginning
of the amazing narrative of the adventures of TANAR OF PELLUCIDAR.
Jason and I were sitting in his "lab" one evening
discussing, as we often did, innumerable subjects,
from "cabbages to kings," and coming back, as Jason
usually did, to the Gridley wave, which is what
we have named it.
Much of the time Jason kept on his ear phones, than
which there is no greater discourager of conversation.
But this does not irk me as much as most of the
conversations one has to listen to through life. I like
long silences and my own thoughts.
Presently, Jason removed the headpiece. "It is
enough to drive a fellow to drink!" he exclaimed.
"What?" I asked.
"I am getting that same stuff again," he said. "I can
hear voices, very faintly, but, unmistakably, human
voices. They are speaking a language unknown to
man. It is maddening."
"Mars, perhaps," I suggested, "or Venus."
He knitted his brows and then suddenly smiled one
of his quick smiles. "Or Pellucidar."
I shrugged.
"Do you know, Admiral," he said (he calls me Admiral
because of a yachting cap I wear at the beach),
"that when I was a kid I used to believe every word of
those crazy stories of yours about Mars and Pellucidar.
The inner world at the earth's core was as real to me
as the High Sierras, the San Joaquin Valley, or the
Golden Gate, and I felt that I knew the twin cities of
Helium better than I did Los Angeles.
"I saw nothing improbable at all in that trip of David
Innes and old man Perry through the earth's crust to
Pellucidar. Yes, sir, that was all gospel to me when I
was a kid."
PROLOGUE
INTRODUCTION
I STELLARA
II DISASTER
III AMIOCAP
IV LETARI
V THE TANDOR HUNTER
VI THE ISLAND OF LOVE
VII "KORSARS!"
VIII MOW
IX LOVE AND TREACHERY
X PURSUIT
XI GURA
XII "I HATE YOU!"
XIII PRISONERS
XIV TWO SUNS
XV MADNESS
XVI THE DARKNESS BEYOND
XVII DOWN TO THE SEA
CONCLUSION
Softcover, 5¼" x 8¼", 280+ pages
Perfect-Bound