Revisiting Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom

John Carter reminds us how to deal with death cults.

By Lee Russell Wilkes

Edgar Rice Burroughs’ pulp fantasy John Carter series influenced everything from Crabbe’s Flash Gordon to Cameron’s Avatar and Herbert’s Dune – every chapter reveals a new world of wonder, kept moving with unending shameless cliffhangers. The story is told in a solipsistic first person and filled with boo-hiss villainy. Anyone scoffing at the basic style misses the point entirely. Burroughs was chasing the audience, not high-minded literary critics.

Burroughs’ Mars is Schiaparelli’s vision of canals on a dying world – fantasy science, flying sailboats, ballistic weapons and sharp swords. The world the natives call ‘Barsoom’ is tribalistic, and only as technologically advanced as the plot demands.  

While Burroughs wrote eleven books, Carter’s story is mostly wrapped up in the first three. In book one, the post-civil war Virginian awakens on Mars and casually slaughters his way across it – possessed of superhuman advantage due to weaker gravity.  He chases the MacGuffin Dejah Thoris – imagine From Dusk Till Dawn era Salma Hayek in a G-string – across the dying planet. Who wouldn’t? He spends time in everybody’s dungeon, and for narrative convenience, makes lifelong friends of all the right people.

In book two, he pursues Dejah Thoris down the holy river Iss, encountering a sadistic religion of slavery, torture and cannibalism. No deconstructivist sympathy for the devil here. No PTSD either. In book three, Burroughs reminds us some people can’t be reasoned with – Carter’s solution to entrenched death cults is to form a coalition of the willing and mercilessly eradicate the believers. He’s big on regime change.

Reviewers blither on about the books not being PC. Well, modern literature is, yet nothing has left the slightest cultural footprint for decades. Want to see how it’s done? Read Burroughs. This is refreshingly archaic storytelling – black hats vs white. Sure, it has its problems – the near-naked women serve only as lovestruck plot devices. Imagine the modern audience, if you can find it, writing an auto-ethnographic rebuttal: “Just like Margaret Mead, Burroughs misunderstood the natives.” What’s left to enjoy if every story is dragged before the court of colonialism, patriarchy, and white saviourism? Some bastards are just plain evil. Making them cannibals just signposts it for those who need it spelling out.

Burroughs’ influence extends into the language too. It is but the work of a moment to realise Carter shares a turn of phrase with Bertie Wooster. ‘Sith’ (a giant wasp-like creature) is owed to Burroughs. Game of Thrones’ ‘Tarth’ has ancestry in Barsoom’s ‘Ptarth’.

Burroughs’ work was blockbuster material long before that term existed. Forget all those rubber-monster Doug McClure movies – Burroughs was the James Cameron of his day. Now Jennifer Salke’s fourth-wave agenda has exited Amazon Studios, it’s time for a gritty HBO-style adaptation. Put Dejah Thoris on screen as written and you have a winner. A no-nonsense John Carter is what the 2020s need.  Or perhaps, it’s about an expat chasing skirt?

Remember Not to Breathe This Weekend

What drives a European security expert to hold his breath for six-and-a-half minutes while floating face-down in a Bristol swimming pool?

Is this the ideal weekend activity for the terminally lazy? Relax, take a deep breath and move as little as possible. The catch? You can’t breathe for several minutes while submerged in water. Welcome to the extreme sport of freediving – no oxygen tanks allowed here – you compete on just one breath.  Even the events sound like serious medical conditions. Static Apnoea, anyone?

Ask weekend visitors to Bristol what’s on their itinerary – it’s doubtful a competitive breath-holding contest ranks very highly. And it’s easy to see why. While diving in the tropics sounds idyllic, diving here conjures up nightmarish images of masked figures in wetsuits plunging headfirst into the Bristol Channel. Mercifully, participants at Bristol Blue 2025 competed in a heated pool at Hengrove Leisure Centre, although it’s unclear how added comfort makes voluntary drowning any more appealing.

Among the participants was Dr Cornelius Friesendorf, a specialist in security topics including guerilla warfare, organised crime, and Russian-Western relations. How does he square evaluating Russia’s war against Ukraine with participating in sporting events seemingly one-mistake away from killing him?

“Times are economically and politically difficult now, so freediving helps people to calm down and find inner peace,” he says.

A Boy from Bonn

He was born in 1973 in Bonn, then the Cold War capital of West Germany. His mother was a journalist, full of the 1968 revolutionary spirit. His father was an antiquities dealer specialising in Byzantine art and Russian religious icons.

“The Soviet authorities hated all religious art. They weren’t unhappy about it leaving the Soviet Union. There was a market in the Western countries. And then after the end of the Cold War, the Russian art went back with the oligarchs buying it.”

He spent summers spearfishing in the Mediterranean from a boat built for navigating the Bristol channel. “I started to love the water. And then I was scuba diving for 25 years and always loved snorkelling. But I did not know freediving existed as a sport. In 2011, I saw a course advertising it in Frankfurt and I’ve been doing it for 14 years now.”

Professionally, he’s a researcher with the Institute for Peace Research and Security Policy at the University of Hamburg. He’s writing a book on the obscure Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) which had its origins in the Cold War and has been struggling to survive Russia’s imperialism. What dangers does his work predict?

“The transatlantic relationship is broken, and it’s not only Trump. It’s a generational shift in the US. The Republican Party has turned into a very strange sect and preparing for major conflict with China. So, Europe from the US perspective, is a sideshow. Plus, Russia is trying to destroy what is left of the European security order.”

Is there any truth to the idea that the military and political alliances of today’s world look like those of 1914? “It’s an important analogy. In summer 2014 the Kaiser attempted to stop the troops but could not prevent the process from unfolding. We now see a similar risk of unwanted escalation. The major difference being no nuclear weapons at the time. Global annihilation is what’s really at stake.”

Holding your breath underwater is suddenly starting to look like a survival strategy. The same idea saved the crocodile from that asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

What’s the Appeal?

Cornelius is rightfully proud of his sport and makes it clear freediving isn’t for adrenaline junkies and reckless thrill-seekers. Competitors try to reduce their heart rate, being as relaxed as possible before getting in the water as vigorous activity burns that single lungful of precious air.

He says the macho-types quickly become unstuck: “Suddenly they get all these thoughts and fears of not being able to hold their breath like a true hero. Often people who seemed a little quieter or insecure do very well.”

Is that because of introversion? He says: “It’s more that freediving teaches us to accept our fears, and our limitations. To overcome you must first accept them and embrace them.”

“Freediving really teaches us to be humble when we dive to greater depth. If we have an ego and we flex the muscles and try to get to the target depth, it won’t work. You’ll injure yourself.”

While people like the Japanese Ama had no alternative when they dived for valuable shells and pearls, hasn’t holding your breath been unnecessary since Cousteau and Gagnan invented scuba? 

“While holding the breath, you’re focusing inward. You’re faced with yourself, with your thoughts, with your bodily reactions. And in scuba diving, some people use the derogatory term ‘underwater tourists’, you have a tank, and you look around, you’re trying to spot animals.”

He says freediving may never be an Olympic sport as people don’t always look telegenic when they emerge from the depths. The International Olympic Committee (IOC) clearly likes to minimise televised fatalities. A lot of people blackout and have squeezes – when the external water pressure injures the lung. He says: “It’s something you never do alone, even in a bathtub. When people lose consciousness alone in the water, they drown.” He emphasises mutual safety is always a priority. 

Bristol Blue

“I always love visiting the UK, because people are so friendly. You get back to Germany, everybody is grumpy and pessimistic.

“But I was also shocked about the difference between rich and poor. It seems even starker than on the continent. It reminded me of the movies of Ken Loach or even some of the stories of George Orwell when he was a tramp.”

He says the Bristol event was very well-organised: “One of the best I’ve ever been to. The UK has a very nice freediving community – a very nice atmosphere.”

“The first day was diving as far as possible without fins. My result was 114 meters, well below my personal best. In the evening, I suddenly realized that when you don’t drink enough water, the heart rate goes up because the blood is thicker, so that the heart needs to pump harder or faster, so I drink more.

“The second day was trying to hold your breath as long as possible. Suddenly, I did a personal best of six minutes, thirty-one. I could have probably done seven minutes.  And this is all thanks to better hydration.”

Limits

Are there upper and lower age limits for anyone wanting to start? “My daughter, she is nine now. She dives to seven meters. There’s one person I’ve heard about, he’s over 70, and he dives to 80 meters. It’s a very nice sport that can be done at higher age.”

After the Lia Thomas controversy, do men and women compete separately? “We do, but there are many excellent female freedivers. The constant weight world record for women at depth is 123 meters. The male world record is 136.”

If Putin and Trump don’t destroy the world, what’s the future of freediving? “We will see even more impressive performances in the pool. Someday people might dive 400 meters. For one breath hold, static apnoea, the record is 11 minutes 35. At depth, decompression sickness has become a game changer. Several top athletes have suffered from nitrogen bubbles in the bloodstream. So, I think this should lead to more caution and possibly limiting the depths that people can or should go to.”

And personally? “Like any freediver, I want to a dive to 100 meters. I’m not sure that I’ll do it. I have two kids. I have a full-time job. I’m fifty-one years old. I also don’t want to kill myself. I’ve done 91-meters in competitions.

“So, I’m less focused on results. Now I’m trying to do it the Buddhist way and enjoy the process.”

When Indian Food is the Mildest Option in Bangkok

If Thai food were a language, it would be Italian: stylish and loud. Negotiating the menu every time you eat is intimidating. It all looks appetising but what is it? After your fifth tom yam gung, you’ll be begging for something familiar.

Three Tiers

Bangkok, like any self-respecting capital city, caters for all budgets.

The high-end options are the luxury hotels with their rooftop bars. Local diners feast on their sense of social superiority. What you eat isn’t as important as being seen eating it – think haute cuisine mixed with mass-market wine and a healthy sprinkling of PM2.5.

The people’s street food moved long ago into the mall’s food courts. Eating and air con go together very nicely. If you can fight through the crowds, the food’s cheap – and instantly forgettable.

In the gutters you’ll find open-air popups, usually a family of cooks, some surly waiting staff and tacky plastic garden furniture.  They serve traditional food for Bangkok’s commuters, drunks and sex workers. You really need to avoid seeing highly made-up working girls eating fried bugs. The stuff of nightmares.

New Bukhara’s Indian Restaurant

After days of this, you’ll be a highly suggestive mess. You’ll want something you recognise, and I don’t mean a steak and kidney pie and a warm beer in a depressing Irish bar. You’re on holiday, you’ve got to have some standards. Everyone likes Indian, right?

Searching for New Bukhara’s, you’ll be vigorously jostled as you walk through air thicker than that tom yam. You’ll pass street vendors hawking sex toys, cheap football shirts and off-brand Viagra. If you have any humanity remaining, you’ll arrive a sweaty misanthropic mess.

The air con hammers you. The place is reminiscent of tourist safe restaurants in India; the mood and décor are sedate. The lighting is thankfully low. Indian pop music plays.

The clientele are mostly Indians. Western sex-pats are mostly absent, although you might suffer the occasional ranter. Service staff get friendlier after they see you’re not paying your dinner companion the hourly rate. They’ve seen it all before. Politeness works wonders.  

Food

Many places have more artful presentation, but Bukhara’scan’t be beaten on quality. Choicescater for meat-eaters and vegivores. First time? Go for the classics. Start with vegetable samosas and the alu chaat. They excel at fragrant carbohydrates.  

Next, you can’t go wrong with a thick creamy tikka masala – decline the spice. Eat as the Indians do and avoid filling up on rice. The naan is as thick as a blanket. Death by Ghee? Only if you eat here too often.

Bukhara’s was recommended to me as a ‘real meal’ when I was an out-of-my-depth first-timer in Bangkok. They offer reasonably priced food exotic enough to feel special yet a welcome alternative to all that lemongrass and coriander. If the Thai experience is overwhelming mind and stomach, this will settle both.   

Still a Big Wednesday?

I hate surfers. Loathe them. Meritless conformists uniforming themselves in Rip Curl branding and braided hair, group-thinking themselves counterculture icons. If the Nordsee had been warmer in the 1930s, surfing would have been the Reich’s chosen sport.

You can imagine my scepticism when approaching John Milius’s celebrated surfer movie ‘Big Wednesday’ (1978). Yet, I can’t help but think Milius, famously a conservative gun nut and known for his macho fantasies, would agree with me on surfer-seekers. His attitude to hippies in Conan the Barbarian wasn’t exactly favourable.

So, breathe easy. This is not a film about tissue-thin spiritual exploration – this is a story about enduring friendships. Told through time-jumps, the narrative follows a group through the 1960s, as they avoid alcoholism, self-destruction. How they all conspire to avoid the Vietnam draft is hilarious. When one of them returns from that war, he simply paddles out to meet his buddies. In modern cinema there would be false tears. Here, just understated nods and smiles.

The film stars the good but not memorable William Katt (TV’s ‘The Greatest American Hero’), Jan-Michael Vincent (TV’s ‘Airwolf’), and Gary Busey (later in that other surfer classic, ‘Point Break’). They blend into the photography of legendary cinematographer Bruce Surtees and surf filmmakers Greg MacGillivray and Jim Freeman. The orchestral score by Basil Poledouris – an underrated musical talent – makes the movie. I can’t help but feel they all missed their niche as natural history filmmakers as the human story seems almost an afterthought. The characters are dominated by the natural backdrop of shores and shoals. Mostly, you’ll only remember the mood.   

While the film undoubtedly deserves its cult status, did watching it make me want to learn surfing? No. I’d still rather be stung by a Portuguese man o’ war.

Nina Na spends New Year in Laos

Pack your bags and brace yourself—because Nina Na is ringing in the New Year with a whirlwind adventure across Thailand and Laos! 🇹🇭🇱🇦 From the tranquil banks of the mighty Mekong to heart-pounding cave tubing in Vang Vieng, this trip is packed with unforgettable moments: 🏞️ Chasing sunrise in charming Chiang Khan 🌄 Conquering the dizzying heights of Phu Tub Berk 💦 Climbing over 200 steps to the roaring Loei Dum waterfall 🛶 Tubing through icy caves and kayaking on wild rivers 🎢 Soaring through the jungle on a scream-filled zip line 🎈 Floating high above it all on a magical balloon ride 🦖 Coming face-to-face with the ancient Siamosaurus in Khon Kaen This isn’t just a trip—it’s a rollercoaster of adventure, wonder, and a whole lot of fun. 🌟