#johnnorman

Horatio Gates, John Norman, 1782, Smithsonian: National Portrait Gallery

Size: Image: 8.7 × 6.5 cm (3 7/16 × 2 9/16") Medium: Line engraving on paper

Tarnsman of Gor, John Norman | Book # 1 | Page # 93 December 1st, 2020

Then, to my astonishment, the daughter of the Ubar Marlenus, daughter of the Ubar of Ar, knelt before me, a simple warrior of Ko-ro-ba, and lowered her head, lifting and extending her arms, wrists crossed. It was the submission of the captive female. Without raising her eyes from the ground, the daughter of the Ubar said in a clear, distinct voice: “I submit myself.”

Hello PPeople, I just thought about creating a Gorean Challenge.

Day 1: Favorite Gor Book?

Day 2: Favorite character?

Day 3: Favorite male character?

Day 4: Favorite scene?

Day 5: Hottest scene?

Day 6: Tarl Cabot or Marlenus?

Day 7: Talena or Elizabeth Cardwell?

Day 8: Favorite warrior?

Day 9: Favorite Kajira?

Day 10: Favorite M/S dynamic?

Day 11: Favorite couple?

Day 12: Kef or Dina Flower?

Day 13: Sleen or Panther?

Day 14: Beverly Henderson or Elicia Nevins?

Day 15: Tarn or Thalarion?

Day 16: Least Favorite Gor book?

Day 17: Least Favorite character?

Day 18: Least Favorite male character?

Day 19: Verna or Hura?

Day 20: Tarl x Talena or Tarl x Elizabeth?

Day 21: Most epic scene?

Day 22: Most emotional scene?

Day 23: Panther girl or Kajira?

Day 24: Jason Marshall or Rask of Treve?

Day 25: Panther girl or Tatrix?

Day 26: Rask of Treve or Clitus Vitellus?

Day 27: Marlenus or Rask of Treve?

George Washington, John Norman, 1781, Smithsonian: National Portrait Gallery

Size: Image/Sheet: 17 × 9.8 cm (6 11/16 × 3 7/8") Medium: Etching and engraving

1966. The pulp racks still smell like Burroughs. John Carter swings his sword on Barsoom, saves princesses, and everything ends clean. Then a thin paperback drops — Tarnsman of Gor by John Norman — and it doesn’t sit quietly. It punches the old formula straight in the face.

Norman takes the classic “Earthman on an alien planet” setup and hardens it in fire. No smiles. No winks. No safety net. He builds a world that runs on raw power. Honor here is a heavy load. Slavery isn’t decoration — it’s the spine of the entire civilization. People are divided into castes. Cities stand on Home Stones. Armies die for those stones. Priest-Kings sit in the Sardar Mountains like cold gods and decide who lives and who burns. Tarns — massive predatory birds — carry warriors into battle. Men ride them. Men die on them.

Tarl Cabot is no chosen one. He’s a regular history lecturer from New Hampshire. One night a silver disk takes him from Earth. A blue metal box waits in the forest. Inside is a letter written in 1640 by his father, long thought dead. Tarl wakes up in a round room with a low ceiling. The sun looks bigger. The gravity feels wrong. He realizes he’s on another planet. This is Gor.

His father is already there. He explains the rules. Home Stones. Castes. Priest-Kings. Tarl listens. Tarl learns fast. Senior Tarl — a giant bearded warrior — teaches him to fight with both hands. Thorn the Scribe beats him with scrolls when he fucks up. Tarl trains hard. Then comes the first flight on a war tarn. The bird is huge. The bird is vicious. Tarl straps in, pulls the colored reins, and lifts into the sky. Wind slams his face. The ground drops away. In that moment he feels both free and terrified. He understands: on Gor, he’s no longer just a man. He’s a warrior.

Then comes the mission. Steal the Home Stone of Ar — the strongest city, the most sacred stone. Tarl flies to Ar. He takes a girl named Sana with him. He meets Talena, daughter of the Ubar. He meets Marlenus, the fallen ruler. He meets Pa-Kur, the Master of Assassins. Blood flows. People die. Every step costs dearly. Some steps break even the strongest.

Norman writes hard and straight. He shows how this world crushes people. He shows how power turns some into masters and others into slaves. He shows the truth. He shows everything.

That was bold as hell for 1966. Most writers back then hid from these themes. They wrapped everything in romance and heroism. Norman didn’t. He wrote a book that smells like sweat, blood, leather, and metal. A book where the hero either joins the system or dies. A book where adventure isn’t a game — it’s war.

This first book launched one of the longest and most controversial series in fantasy history. Over thirty volumes. A whole subculture grew around Gor. People still argue about it. Some call it genius. Others call it dangerous. But the fact remains: after Tarnsman of Gor, old-school sword-and-planet fantasy was never the same. Norman proved a world could be brutal. A hero could lose. Power wasn’t just a pretty word — it was the air you breathed.

The book still hits today. It demands respect. It gets it from readers who can handle the truth without filters. From people who understand that real fantasy isn’t comfort. It’s a mirror. And sometimes that mirror shows ugly shit.

1966. A thin paperback. The fantasy world after it was never the same. And it still remembers who changed it.