40-some books into the Edgar Rice Burroughs oeuvre, I've had several opportunities to experience his sense of humor. There have been occasions when he has made me laugh old loud--which is no mean feet. (Whilst reading, I tend more to be the smiling and saying, "That's funny" type.) But the humor has been a small element in all of those 40-some books--and even absent from some of them. Which was not a deficit; these were action / adventure stories, after all, not comedies.
The Bandit of Hell's Bend is a Western. My first ERB Western . . . and maybe only my third Western novel ever. (There was Shane from way back when--elementary school, I think--and Welcome to Hard Times--E. L. Doctorow's first novel, which I read when I did my Doctorow binge about seven years ago. (And read all of his books--which is a thing well worth doing, nudge nudge wink wink.) And after finishing it, one of the foremost thoughts in my mind is that I need to read another Western. Pretty much right away.
This might be my favorite ERB book ever--even though the e-version I read had almost 100 typographical errors. Literally. (LITERALLY literally.) It was funny as hell, for one thing. But it also had an exciting plot, strong characters, a little romance, some good dialect, and some great one-liners. Like "I wisht he had nine lives like a cat, so’s I could kill him a few more times.” And "You ain’t wuth shootin’, with cartridges the price they be.” And that's just the tip of the ha ha iceberg.
Man, I need to read another ERB Western right away.
BTW, I checked and this was actually my 47th ERB book. Past the halfway point and then some!
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