“Conan and his silent companion are outside a mysterious city where everyone – and everything – appears frozen in time. The pair soon learns the frozen citizens are the victims of a long-standing feud between a wizard and his maligned apprentice. Can our Cimmerian set them free and end this ages-old dispute?”

(EDITOR’S NOTE: Welcome to The Classic Conan Countdown, a series of reviews focusing on the original 275 issues of Marvel Comics’ Conan the Barbarian, which were published from 1970 to 1993. This is a review of Conan the Barbarian (Vol. 1) #122.)

By WALLY MONK — Paint Monk’s Library Editor

I didn’t realize just how “off” the Conan stories of popular writer J.M.DeMatteis were until I picked up Conan the Barbarian #122. If it were not for the sake of completeness and the Classic Conan Countdown, I would have put the issue down within the first few pages.

In truth, I’d rather finish reading Tini Howard’s Age of Conan: Belit mini-series than have read this mess (Ok, perhaps not). But this is an issue full of tired tropes, ones we’ve seen many times before in the preceding 121 issues.

Repetitive plot points aside, there’s something not quite natural about DeMatteis’ Conan. He’s oddly different from the character that Roy Thomas and John Buscema worked extremely hard to create. In this issue, Conan enters a city where all of the citizens appear to be “frozen” in time – and he doesn’t leave.

I can imagine Thomas’ Conan walking into the city and saying something along the lines of “By Crom, there’s foul magic afoot. I’d rather choke down the carcass of a street rat and sleep on a bed of granite than battle more flamboyant wizards and their hellspawn sorcery.“

But enough negativity! DeMatteis is truly a gifted storyteller, and his stories, if they weren’t labeled Conan tales, would be quite good pieces of high fantasy. The author is one of many comic writers – and book writers for that matter – who wouldn’t quite grasp all the nuances that make our Cimmerian a legacy character.

And with these caveats, I present to you Conan the Barbarian #122.

Review: Conan the Barbarian (Vol. 1) #122

As the flying pegasi (Conan the Barbarian #121) disappear, Conan and his mute companion Atreah find themselves wandering the foothills for days, hungry and tired. The pair spot a bird, which Atreah brings down with a large rock. At least the pair will have food for the night.

Their meal is interrupted by an Ophirian-speaking man on horseback who nearly bowls the duo over, and Conan promptly unseats him and demands an explanation. The bewildered man explains that he has come from the nearby city of Pergona and that it is cursed, warning Conan and Atreah to stay as far from the city as possible.

The barbarian and his companion make their way to Pergona, and are surprised that the guardsman at the gate stands unmoving like a statue. Upon entering the city, they discover that all of the citizens are stuck in place in the same manner, save two young boys frolicking and making light of the situation as they steal and run roughshod through the marketplace, even kissing a frozen damsel as they pass by.

Conan and his companion put the youths in check, and soon the new quartet continues exploring the city. All the while, menacing eyes leer at them from the safety of a darkened doorway.

Without warning, the entire crowd in the marketplace begins to attack Conan and his entourage! As they make their escape, the young boys spot a teary-eyed little girl in the crowd, and as they run away, they take her along, hoping to find her home and rescue her from the mob.

Finding their way into an elaborate palace, they stumble across a dwarf, who reclines on a dais like royalty, who greets them all, suggesting that one of them is a being named “Shuin Shann”.

Who is this mysterious dwarf? Why are the citizens of Pergona frozen like statues and apparently under mind-control? And who or what is “Shuin Shann”?

CAPSULE REVIEW: In this day and age of a “woke” and more sensitive culture, the cover dialogue proclaiming “Conan toppled by a Midget Magus!” wouldn’t have made it past the copy desk, let alone final layouts. Never mind that some might find it insensitive – it’s just dumb. Alliteration is great, but Conan isn’t a “funny book”. That headline text would have been better suited for an issue of Groo the Wanderer.

DeMatteis’ story is a valiant effort, and it might have worked in an old issue of Creatures on the Loose featuring Lin Carter’s Thongor. Magic may be commonplace there, but Conan’s world is far darker and more gritty.

John Buscema tries his best, as do Bob McLeod and George Roussos, to maintain the continuity of artwork – but it’s stymied at all points by the scripting and storytelling. Something just isn’t right in these issues. The best way I can explain it is to make a comparison.

Take a typical mainstream paperback novel, for example. When you open the book, you expect the Times Roman font. It’s easy to read, and the last dozen novels you’ve consumed all share that in common.

But imagine if you picked up a novel and suddenly it was written using a calligraphy font or something really bold like Impact. The story might be good, the pages might be laid out the same way, but somehow, it would just seem different. Perhaps a little alien. And that’s how DeMatteis’ Conan seems, and it’s glaringly obvious in this issue.

On a scale of 1-10, I’d give this issue a 4. Pick it up only if you’re a completist, you’re definitely not missing much.