I never read any of these - back when they were in their heyday, I was more into SCIENCE fiction than barbarian/fantasy stuff. I still remember, though, the editor of some Sci Fi magazine I subscribed to (Barry Malzberg?) who wrote an editorial “Why I Won’t Buy Gor Stories”.
The last book in the send-up here is a take-off on Norman’s one non-Gor book. After tearing up Norman for his misogynistic and generally stupid depiction of women in the series, the editorial mentioned that Norman was a professor and his book of “scenarios to spice up your love life” included the particularly interesting role-playing for “I want an A, professor…” and speculated why Norman would dream up this scene. Those were the days…
I read most of them as a pubescent boy with no real understanding of the notion of agency and while I enjoyed them as a kid I’m pretty embarrassed about it now.
Gor was an escapist fantasy for male losers in a time before pickup artistry, mens’ rights and hardcore gaming; it served the same emotional need. It’s a microcosm of relationships between fandom and reality in the internet age – mostly a flower garden of flourishing culture, but with what you might decribe as a few well-watered weeds.
I sure hope I never end up in an awkward conversation wherein I explain that mine is 100% natural. (If you aren’t laughing upon reaching that period, I should explain: this will never happen. All the complements I get on my beard are from men. Pro-tip: trying to attract women? Shave.)
Sports are something that happen, and not fully dependent on the participants in concert with each other. Teams A and B meet, they do not cooperate, and then fate intervenes and that’s the game. And it will never happen exactly that way again. There’s not a lot of room for critique. (“You see how Johnson dropped that ball there? That was wrong. He shouldn’t have done that.”) Nor is there much point in review since no one is going to see it (or not) based on your feedback.
Films, books, music, and art, one the other hand, are the work of a person or collective in concert, so there is something wholly deliberate to critique. And, since they endure (or in case of live performances, can be more-or-less repeated), review is useful for sorting the wheat from the chaff.
So really, they should be “game critics”. And they were game critics until they collectively decided that it (rightly) didn’t make them sound very important.
I bought one thinking well, it’s full of sexy times and I’m in the mood for that. 500-some boring pages that were just talking about all the sex they were totally going to have at some point before they got around to any actual sexing.
Me too–when I was 12 through 13 I’m embarrassed to say I liked them, probably up to the 7th or so. I won’t lie–combined with the “Boris” covers, they hit all the right buttons for my young libido and heroic fantasies. But Tarl Cabot, the protagonist, became much more dark and less noble after a while and the whole thing started to just feel weirder and creepier in the way women were portrayed–or maybe I was maturing and finally noticed.
Pretty much every book featuring a “modern” independent woman (She was also “haughty”–Norman seemed to like that word), usually stolen from earth by Gor slavers, who after initial resistance, inevitably (usually after some serious humiliation) realizes she was miserable in her prior life and just like all women, can only find true happiness as the sex slave of whatever random barbarian bought her at auction.
I distinctly remember an very often-repeated scene–and how it confused me at first as a 12 year old as to just what was happening:
The haughty, buxom woman standing stripped naked on the auction block, glaring defiantly at her potential buyers. (I’ll never succumb to these beasts! I’m not a sex object–I’m a modern woman!!) No one bids on her a first, as if not sure of her value. They all seem to be… waiting.
Then–it happens! The auctioneer suddenly, expertly, uses the butt of his whip handle to surprise her with the so-called “slaver’s caress” (you can guess where he caressed). She’s mortified as her true nature is revealed by the writhing and moans that momentarily overcome her…and the bidding erupts!
If Rogaine worked all over I would be straight shag rug but beautifully brushed & coiffed so as to have no use for clothing. All would bow before my monkeyness.
Place book upright on table, spine towards you. Give book several sharp taps on the top of the spine so the thing fans open.Sexytime sections will inevitably open wider than other pages in any library book.
Clearly the original source material for the game that Popehat reported is currently in development.
The Popehat link (at least about the game) is satire, but James Desborough (surprise!) is indeed working on a Gor RPG. The Indiegogo page for it is awesome with sentences like: "Gor deserves to be treated with the respect and affection that it’s thousands upon thousands of fans regard it with. "
Also, John Norman turned out to be a philosophy professor. Someone really needs to post his PhD thesis, “In defence of ethical naturalism” online.
“John Norman” and his wife at least once attended I-CON, a campus SF convention I helped run back in the day. This was early 90s.
I typoed “Norman” just now as “Normal,” and that really is a fit description. A thin, very reserved, bland-looking academic fellow in a conservative suit. Not a “Caspar Milquetoast” type, but very, very far from how you’d imagine the author of misogynistic barbarian stuff to be. Mrs. “Norman” was also ordinary looking, reserved, going gray like he was.
I remember him being puzzled that no one was interested in collecting the typewriter ribbons he’d used to write his latest novel. Apparently that was a thing at one time, and was still with his German fans.
