Red Sonya, 90 Years Later
Despite his suicide at age 30, Robert E. Howard made his mark as one one of history’s greatest popular writers. Even against that backdrop, Howard’s short story “The Shadow of the Vulture” does not disappoint. Published in 1934, this yarn remains a stunning piece of historical fiction. In fact, 90 years after its first appearance, it may be more pertinent now than it was when Howard penned it.
Since Howard’s time, the whole tradition of swashbuckling pulp fiction has only gained in importance. Robert Price, pulp fantasy author/editor and the late Lin Carter’s literary executor, emphasizes “the unique relevance of this genre in today’s social climate.” With the prevailing social mores having turned against masculinity, a trend expressed in participation trophies, accusations of “rape culture,” and anti-militarism, “we’re just softening ourselves up for the kill.” In the midst of this cultural decay, suggests Price, old adventure stories by greats like Howard can help to reinstate manliness as a recognized virtue.
Still, while Howard’s most notable warriors were men, one of this tale’s two main characters is a female fighter known as Red Sonya. (The oversexualized Marvel character Red Sonja is loosely based on her, but that later profanation cannot be blamed on this story.) Sonya is one of her creator’s many “strong female characters” and can hold her own against any male soldier. Yet Howard, not being a present-day feminist, does not portray her physical prowess as normal; all the narrative’s other combatants are men.
“The Shadow of the Vulture” is an account of the 1529 siege of Vienna with a liberal smattering of fictional elements thrown in. Red Sonya and the German knight Gottfried von Kalmbach fight off the Ottomans from behind the city’s crumbling walls, developing a grudging friendship along the way.
Numerous Western authors before and during Howard’s life romanticized the Muslim world―Byron, Poe, and Rilke, among others. There’s none of that here. Rather, Howard’s love of Europe and the West, expressed in so much of his work, shines through once again.
Biting social commentary abounds as Howard deftly uses irony to showcase the Oriental despotism of Ottoman rule, as when the Vizier bosses one of his underlings around: “‘Squat on thy mangy haunches and bay out the tale,’ ordered Ibrahim considerately.” That’s as funny as it is poignant. At other times, the irony is grimmer: “The Janizaries were . . . hurling men, women and children living into the flames they had kindled under the somber eyes of their master, the monarch men called the Magnificent, the Merciful.” The ruler in question is Suleiman “the Magnificent,” sultan of the Ottoman Empire at the time in question. The Ottoman court’s splendor, likewise, is made grotesque―marked by decadence, sex slaves, eunuchs, wine, and animal-baiting. (Here, Howard may have added a few elements from the reign of Selim II, Suleiman’s more libertine son.)
Howard shows himself impressively familiar with the period depicted. Red Sonya’s backstory, for instance, is masterfully chosen. A young woman from the Ukrainian town of Rogatino (Rohatyn), she claims to be a sister of the famous Roxelana. Roxelana, a real historical figure, was enslaved by Tatars and made part of Suleiman’s harem, later becoming his wife. Not only does this connection create a fascinating character dynamic, but since Roxelana was reputed to be fearless and assertive, it makes perfect sense that her sibling would have these qualities as well.
Sonya is unquestionably the highlight of the story―a “happy warrior” whose frank elation at every blow she strikes for Europe’s freedom is spiced up by her boisterous Ukrainian flair:
[The Turks] lay on the torn ground, their skulls blasted by the impact [of her cannon shot] . . . . A cheer went up from the towers, and the woman called Red Sonya yelled with a sincere joy and did the steps of a Cossack dance.
Alas, von Kalmbach is far less interesting. But perhaps that’s because Howard’s brand of rugged and brooding hero has been emulated a little too much.
Aside from its celebration of masculine toughness, “The Shadow of the Vulture” speaks to our time by valorizing Europe’s defenders. Today, Europe is under attack once again, protected by that defiant Ukrainian spirit which Howard captures so well.
As Jim Geraghty writes,
the Ukrainians are really determined to not spend the rest of their lives under the Russian boot, and they’re fighting like hellions and making the most of the limited advantages they have (mostly technological ones and a hell-bent-for-leather pace of innovation).
The attackers in Howard’s story are Ottoman Muslims, but Moscow today is driven by a similar Eastern authoritarianism. Prince Nikolai Trubetzkoy famously argued that Russia was the successor state to Genghis Khan’s Eurasian empire, destined to continue its authoritarian and imperialist legacy. Trubetzkoy thus founded Eurasianism, the ideology which has come to animate much of Russia’s ruling class.
Historian George Vernadsky has likewise written that Mongol rule cemented “absolutism and serfdom” in Russia and helped to topple “the free political institutions of the Kievan age.”
Sadly, Islam does not have a monopoly on Oriental despotism. This is also how Howard depicts things: “Again the destroyer was riding out of the blue mysterious East as his brothers had ridden before him―Attila―Subotai―Bayazid―Muhammad the Conqueror.” Though the invaders in this instance are Islamic, Eastern imperialism and tyranny are broader phenomena. “It was the Armageddon of races,” Howard muses, “Asia against Europe.”
And just as, in Howard’s words, “[Sultan] Suleyman’s ambitions embraced all Europe―that stubborn Frankistan,” so Russia intends to carry its aggression beyond Ukraine: to Moldova and other Eastern European countries, and perhaps further. Not to mention that the Kremlin is already waging a decades-long shadow war of subversion, property destruction, and assassinations throughout the continent.
“The Shadow of the Vulture,” like much of Howard’s fiction, holds up an unflattering mirror to the modern West. A 2022 poll showed that just 55% of Americans would defend the United States from an invasion. Only 40% of Democrats said they would do so, versus 52% who would flee. In Europe, the percentages are even more dismal, though things look better in Eastern European and non-EU countries like Ukraine.
And thank God they do, or else there might be no one to shield an effete West against the latest onslaught. Red Sonya fights again―though restrained by Joe Biden’s, and other Western leaders’, cowardice.