The Hyborian Age — A Closer Reading

A Fictional History, Not a Story

Despite being cataloged under 'Fantasy fiction, American,' The Hyborian Age contains no plot, dialogue, or characters. It is an essay that reads like a historical textbook, complete with named epochs, kingdoms, and ethnic groups. Howard describes the 'Pre-Cataclysmic Age' as 'veiled in the mists of legendry,' then proceeds to outline the geography and politics of invented continents. The text is dense with proper nouns—Kamelia, Valusia, Verulia, Grondar—and treats them with the gravity of real history. This approach is consistent with Howard's stated goal: to create a believable backdrop for his fiction. The catalog's 'Fantasy fiction' label may mislead readers expecting a story; instead, they will find a worldbuilder's reference document.

Patterns of Imperial Rise and Fall

The excerpts reveal a recurring cycle: a powerful empire grows arrogant, mistreats its allies or subjects, and is eventually undone by external invaders. Aquilonia, for instance, becomes 'haughty and intolerant' toward the Bossonians, taxing them exorbitantly and conscripting them for wars. This leads to desertion, defeat by Nemedia, and ultimately a devastating Pictish invasion. Howard's language is blunt: 'imperialists—intolerant and short-sighted as imperialists invariably are.' The pattern echoes real historical narratives of decline, but Howard applies it to his invented kingdoms with a moralizing tone. The Picts, initially barbarians on islands, eventually become a coordinated threat under a leader named Gorm, who 'had served in Aquilonian armies.' This detail suggests that Howard considered how conquered peoples could adopt their conquerors' tactics.

Voice and Structure: The Chronicler's Pose

Howard adopts the voice of a Nemedian chronicler, using phrases like 'Of that epoch known by the Nemedian chroniclers as the Pre-Cataclysmic Age.' This framing device gives the essay an air of antiquity, as if it were a translation of lost records. The prose is formal and declarative, with long lists of kingdoms and races. For example, the opening paragraph enumerates 'Kamelia, Valusia, Verulia, Grondar, Thule and Commoria' as speaking 'a similar language, arguing a common origin.' The structure is chronological, moving from the Pre-Cataclysmic Age through the Hyborian Age, with subsections on migrations and wars. The tone is consistently detached, even when describing massacres: 'the unarmed chiefs were massacred, the Shemites turned on their stunned hosts with torch and sword.' This clinical style reinforces the pretense of historiography, distinguishing the work from Howard's adventure fiction.

Readers approaching The Hyborian Age should treat it as a companion piece to the Conan stories, not as a standalone narrative. Its value lies in the detail it provides about the fictional world's geography, politics, and ethnic conflicts. The essay rewards those interested in Howard's creative process, showing how he constructed a consistent setting by borrowing the language and structure of real historical writing. For newcomers, reading a Conan story first may provide context for the kingdoms and peoples mentioned here.

That rainy afternoon, I kept drifting back to Howard’s invented kingdoms, the way he mapped whole ages onto a few bold strokes. It felt like watching someone build sandcastles with an archaeologist’s trowel. Later, reaching for tea, my hand landed instead on Johnny Nut and the Golden Goose — Story, Setting & Ideas, and I smiled at how another author spins a different sort of world from simpler threads.