Posted by indy on April 18th, 2014
REHupa is an amateur press association dedicated to the study of author Robert E. Howard. The purpose of this site is to provide a forum for members to present their work to the public, as well as to serve as a source of reliable information about the life and writings of REH.
Posted by indy on April 18th, 2014
Posted by Barbara Barrett on April 14th, 2014
1. Wapping is a district in East London, England, in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets. It is situated between the north bank of the River Thames and the ancient thoroughfare simply called The Highway.
[origin: The area was first settled by the Saxons, from whom it takes its name (meaning literally "[the place of] Wæppa’s people”)]
Or ever they spiked good beer with rum,
Or poured their brandy there,
I was a Limehouse gutter-bum,
And you were a barmaid fair.
Never a shilling in my purse
To meet mine host’s demands,
But many a mug of ale I quaffed,
Drawn with your own fair hands.
Paradise was a place to me
Where I’d drink free ale from a tub,
But I found a Paradise on earth
In that little Wapping pub,
You fed me on rolls and hot roast beef
Till I was ready to burst,
And poured out gallons of foaming ale
To quench my horrible thirst.
And that was a hundred years ago,
In a land across the sea,
But now, with drink that would sicken a dog
In this country of the free,
[from “The Pledge”; to read the complete poem see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 582]
Posted by Barbara Barrett on April 7th, 2014
1. to put a gloss or polish on; polish
[origin: before 900; Middle English shinen; Old English scinan; cognate with Dutch schiljnen, German schelnen, Old Norse skina, Gothic skeinan
I was a prince of China, lord of a million spears;
You were a soak in Brooklyn, shining the bar for beers.
I lolled on a throne of sapphire, you loafed in a dance-hall door;
My love was a Manchu princess, yours was a Harlem whore.
I slumbered on velvet couches, lulled by a fountain’s tune;
You snored on a broken camp cot in the back of Mike Shane’s saloon.
My friends were lords of the Indies, rulers of lands immense;
Your pals were the tout and the con man, the dip, the yegg and the fence.
I gambled with lands and armies, castles and crowns and thrones;
You risked your jack in the crap games and beefed when you dropped three bones.
I died ’neath the spears of the Tartars on a wild war-trampled ridge;
You went on a bum one evening and fell off the Brooklyn Bridge.
[from “Prince and the Beggar”; to read the complete poem see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 550 and Always Comes Evening, p. 77]
Posted by indy on April 2nd, 2014
The theme of Howard Days this year is Howard History, which relates to how much REH enjoyed re-writing history in the “guise of fiction”. The panels at HD this year will reflect that, and shown above is a new publication from the REH Foundation Press that could almost act as a primer for those attending Howard Days this year.
The SPEARS OF CLONTARF Typescript: Early Draft is now available through the REH Foundation’s website and will show you the way Bob Howard did indeed re-write historical events. For a fascinating facsimile look at an original REH typescript plus other goodies in a spiffy package, here’s the info:
To help celebrate the 1,000-year anniversary of the historic Battle of Clontarf—and Robert E. Howard’s interest in it—the REH Foundation is offering a facsimile version of an early draft of “Spears of Clontarf.” Also included is Howard’s letter to publisher Harry Bates and an introduction by Rusty Burke. Printed and shipped from Lulu printing, the paperback book is 8.5 X 11, perfect bound, with 36 pages. Cover art by John Watkiss.
Posted by Barbara Barrett on March 31st, 2014
1. archaic; old times; antiquity
[origin: before 12th century; Middle English, from Old English ieldo; akin to Old English ealdold]
The dusk was on the mountain
And the stars were dim and frail
When the bats came flying, flying
om the river and the vale
To wheel against the twilight
And sing their witchy tale.
“We were kings of eld!” they chanted,
“Rulers of a world enchanted;
“Every nation of creation
“Owned our lordship over men.
“Diadems of power crowned us,
“Then rose Solomon to confound us,
“Flung his web of magic round us,
“In the forms of beasts he bound us,
“So our rule was broken then.”
[from “The Song of the Bats”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 147 and Always Comes Evening, p. 38]
Posted by Barbara Barrett on March 24th, 2014
(From great collections of papyrus paintings: Sailing felucca at the sunshind hour with vegetation on either side of the River Nile and three pyramids of Giza in the background.)
1. A small vessel propelled by oars or lateen sails or both, used on the Nile and formerly more widely in the Mediterranean region
[origin: 1620-30; from Italian felucca, probably from obsolete Spanish faluca, probably from Arabic fuluk ships, from Greek epholkion small boat from ephelkein to tow]
Adventure, I have followed your beck
Through all the ages. I have sought no other lover.
I have followed o’er land and sea, dim vale and your
mystic moon mountains.
I have heard Pan’s pipes amid moon-dappled woodlands
and have seen the satyrs frolicking with nymphs upon
The fragrant swards, while the night-breezes murmured
among the leaves.
I have watched your lateened feluccas a-leap upon
turquoise seas of morn,
And I have stood upon your snow-browed peaks and
seen the lavender slopes of your brooding mountains
Stretching away to the amethyst skyline. I have heard
the berg song of your Arctic floes and have watched
Your Northern Lights flaring in god-like grandeur from
[from “Adventure”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 254; Night Images, p. 76 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems, p. 3]
Posted by indy on March 22nd, 2014
The REH DAYS 2014 Information Page is alive and kicking! Click on the REH DAYS 2014 tab at the top of this page and you’ll get (almost) all the info you’ll need to know about The Best Two Days in Robert E. Howard Fandom!
All the favorite activities are still in place for the June 13-14 event: the Howard Museum and Pavilion in Cross Plains are open to all, the Gift Shop is open as well, there are a total of seven panels that cover fan and scholarly endeavors and the Bus Tour of Cross Plains & surrounding environs happens on Friday. You can get a special REH Days postal cancellation at the CP Post Office, there’s a REH Swap Meet both days at the Pavilion, a Silent Auction at the Celebration Banquet Friday night and an authentic Texas chuck wagon BBQ at the Caddo Peak Ranch Saturday evening. The award-winning Cross Plains Public Library will be open: you can view their stellar REH collection and view the actual typewritten manuscripts that Bob Howard produced on his Underwood #5 a few blocks away! We also celebrate his poetic words by reading them aloud from the very front porch of the house where they were written!
Our Guest of Honor for HD 2014 is Patrice Louinet, one of the finest REH scholars in the world! Join Patrice and a number of other familiar names in Howard Fandom as they share not only their knowledge of Ol’ Two-Gun but their friendship and good humor in the warm, welcoming environs of Cross Plains, Texas.
But the best part of Howard Days is the sharing of fellowship for those who have gathered to honor Robert E. Howard’s storied legacy. Howard Days has become a family reunion of sorts for so many folks, where new friendships are forged and old ones renewed. We can walk the grounds and view the exact spot from which Robert E. Howard transformed the dry Texas dust into so many fantastic worlds of adventure. If you’ve enjoyed REH at all, visiting his home during Howard Days is not only a fine tribute to him but also a wonderful weekend adventure you won’t soon forget!
So check out the REH Days page and we hope you can make it for two days of fun, fellowship and festivities! Y’all come!
P.S. Visit the REH Days Facebook page too! We’re also going to start up a dedicated REH Days blog so stay tuned for more info!
Posted by Barbara Barrett on March 17th, 2014
1. archaic. a group of persons who rendezvous, usually for clandestine or mysterious purposes.
origin: late Middle English (originally Scots): variant of obsolete trist ‘an appointed place in hunting’, from French triste or medieval Latin trista
On ruined walls
And towers hoary;
A star gleams
On vanished dreams—
Haunt the glades
The pale night
The silver lake,
Sway and sleep
Along the river.
[from “Nocturne”; this is the complete poem as it appears in The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 324 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems, p. 159]
Posted by Barbara Barrett on March 10th, 2014
(photo from cghub.com)
1. archaic. to pay heed to something
[origin: ca. 12th century; Middle English, to take heed, from Old English reccan akin to Old High German ruohhen to take heed]
Eons before Atlantean days in the time of the world’s black dawn,
Strange were the kings and grim were the deeds that the pallid moon looked on.
When the great black cities split the stars and strange prows broke the tide,
And smoke went up from ghastly shrines where writhing victims died.
Black magic raised its serpent head, and all things foul and banned,
Till an angry God hurled up the sea against the shuddering land.
And the grisly kings they read their doom in the wind and the rising brine,
And they set a pillar on a hill for a symbol and a sign.
Black shrine and hall and cavern wall sank to eternal sleep,
And dawn looked down on a silent world and the blue unbroken deep.
Now men go forth in their daily ways and they reck not of the feel
Of the veil that crushed, so long ago, the world beneath its heel.
[from “The Symbol”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 170 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems, p. 331]
Posted by Barbara Barrett on March 3rd, 2014
1. margin or edge
[origin: archaic; 1548; Middle French, from Latin margo]
A roar of battle thundered in the hills;
All day our iron blades drank deep in blood;
Till lighted with the flame the sunset spills
We saw against our backs the river’s flood.
Among its rocks the waters screamed and raced;
We had our choice, we wild rebellious slaves,
To die beneath the horrors that we faced
Or die amid the horror of the waves.
Aye, we were men who gathered at the marge,
And spear and insult at our foemen hurled—
They were not men who gathered for the charge,
But demons of a blood-black elder world.
But even risen slaves may have a king—
We had a king like some great iron tower,
And bloody now he faced the closing ring
And leaned on his red sword in that red hour.
When I rose reeling in a field of red,
And searching for our warrior king I came
And found him dead upon a heap of dead.
Demon and man, they silent lay, and still;
With cloven skull, rent heart and torn breast.
And now the moon was rising on the hill,
And now the light was dying in the west.
Aye, I alone of all that mighty horde
Still held my life; into a rough rude ring
I bent with waning strength a broken sword,
A diadem to crown a warrior king.
And on his red brow set the bloody crown,
Then Life gave up the ghost as night came down.
[from “A Crown For a King”; to read the complete poem see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 243; Always Comes Evening, p. 108; and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems, p. 481]