I think I got the idea for this story from a 'Legend of Tarzan' episode, 'The Mysterious Visitor'. In it, a writer, 'Ed', interviews various characters - Samuel T. Philander, Hugo and Hooft, Renard Dumont, and Jane Porter - who each give their own take on the 'lord of the jungle'. I thought it was an interesting idea, especially Jane's version; and I wondered what Tarzan would say for himself, if given the chance. I also wanted to fill in some of the blanks in the original story - more examples of the couple's lessons together; what Jane did while Tarzan was fighting Clayton; how they both felt the night before the Porters were due to leave, that sort of thing - and address some of the storylines from the tv series, since many of the plots were great, but left a few things unexplained.

In case you are wondering about Tarzan's written 'voice', I am not going to write him in monosyllables and broken sentences. By the film's end, he can speak English pretty well. By the time of 'Legend of Tarzan', he is just about fluent, only occasionally get confused by idioms or unfamiliar words; in one episode, he stays up all night reading a stack of books, and in another, he is seen reading 'Frankenstein' aloud to Jane. I'm trying to keep my writing fairly simple for him, which is a struggle for me; when writing Jane or Professor Porter, I can go nuts with the adjectives and old-English vernacular, which I enjoy a lot.

While told mostly by Jane and Tarzan, Porter will pop up, in his role as editor, from time to time; Kala gets a few words in, and I might add some commentary from Terk and Tantor, if I get the chance.

A quick note on time setting. It is hard to specifically date Tarzan, since Darwin, Kipling, and Queen Victoria are all mentioned in the film, yet the 'Legend of Tarzan' series purportedly takes place in 1912, even though it has supposedly only been a year or so since the original film's end. I chose to shave a decade off that, setting the events of Tarzan around 1889-1901; Tarzan and Jane are telling this story a few years after that, giving the events of the tv series time to take place.

I have ideas for other Tarzan stories, as well as a pre-existing (just started!) crossover story with Arthur Conan Doyle's 'Sherlock Holmes', 'The Adventure of the Simian Savant'. Please check it out, and if you like what I've done so far, feel free to leave a review - if people want it, I'd love to write more!

Enjoy! ~ W.J.

Two Worlds, One Legacy - The Memoirs of Tarzan and Jane

Foreword by Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, Sc. D.

Throughout my storied career as a university academic and a scientific researcher, I have frequently had the ignoble honour of being called 'mentally deranged' by myriad colleagues and acquaintances.

I can weather such bald-faced abuse; in fact, I call it an honour.

It has long been the plight of the brilliantly-minded man to be misunderstood by his peers. Little more than a decade ago, 'On the Origin of the Species' was derided as the laudanum-induced ravings of a certifiable lunatic. Now, Sir Charles Darwin is rightly revered as the questing genius he always was.

If the same such social phenomenon also applies to myself, I must be a dazzling luminary indeed; for 'mad' is a moniker which I have been burdened with for most of my professional life. First I was a befuddled lab assistant, irretrievably corrupted by the outrageous notions of that same derided, most regal statesman of the scientific world. Then, once I began postulating my own theories and receiving a few grants, I was labelled a middle-aged misanthrope with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy obsession with apes. More recently, in my twilight years, I have been labelled a doddery nincompoop and a senile old fool.

I cling to the ever-pervading hope that, like Darwin before me, to be merely misunderstood is my lot; for I have always believed that I am possessed of a tolerably sound mind.

When they call me mad, I pity their ignorance. When they so gravely misinterpret my intention, I wonder at their own sanity.

Admittedly, the more recent comments of this kind are easier to forgive, for they have been directed at me out of concern, not malice. There are those who would label me a bona fide miscreant for allowing my only daughter to wed a savage jungle man; a man who would abscond her, delicate flower of the realm that she is, far away from the lights of the civilized world, amid the hostile environs of an uncharted frontier, where no other maiden foot hath tread*. In other circumstances, I would perhaps be induced to agree that a man who would willingly submit his child to such a fate must indeed be, if not entirely of a disturbed disposition, at the very least a most inadequate parent.

I would assuredly come to much similar conclusions - if I had not met Tarzan myself.

Instead, to those who would criticism me for letting my darling girl cavort in the desolate outreaches of the realm with a wild man, I pose to you this question: what kind of man would willingly thwart his child's greatest happiness, if not a mad one? What kind of lunatic would dare stand in the way of the purest, most devoted attribution of love that I have ever had the privilege to witness?

The only weakness of mind I had was to ever dare suggest that my daughter should abandon this one sterling chance at true happiness, simply for the sake of returning to that gilded cage of civility which she had always known. Faced with the prospect of either watching my dear Janey languish in the relative comfort of gloomy old England, or lead a life of joyful squalor in the deepest shadows of the Dark Continent, was not the right choice to make an obvious one? In choosing the former, I would have imprisoned my girl for life, in a miserable ruin of squandered dreams; and by placing so little confidence in the man she dearly loves, I would have terribly wronged the noblest heart I have ever known to beat within human flesh.

You would ask if I am mad, sir? I answer definitively that I am not.

You would only need look at the smile upon my girl's face; at the tenderness that shines in her eyes, and is reflected in every aspect within her adoring husband's own, to know that nothing could be further from the truth. Such sights could cure the most feverish brain; would soothe all doubts of sanity from the most cynical mind. In my dotage, I have been miraculously gifted with a multitude of blessings: a closely-united family, a contented daughter, a devoted son-in-law, and a life filled almost to bursting with an endless source of constant wonder. If I am indeed mad, sir, I choose to remain deranged; for surely, such complete happiness cannot be found on this earth, save in this paradise, of which we have found ourselves to be proud custodians.

A little while ago, I suggested to my girl that our story might be put down in written record for posterity. She was, at first, apprehensive that our much-loved privacy would be so impinged upon; however, she soon came to be of a similar mind. She had a hard time convincing her husband likewise. Though a wonderfully eloquent man when he wishes to be, he is not one given to an excessive use of words, for actions speak louder with him; he was understandably reticent to put down his innermost thoughts in written form, where anyone might glance at them. Just as he is so wonderfully protective of us, we are likewise protective of him. We were quick to reassure him that he would not be misrepresented in any way, and that this text would simply provide him with a means of speaking for himself, while half of London must by now be repeating entirely erroneous gossip about him. Eventually, he came around to our way of thinking.

It is important that these things are known; so that, at the very least, future generations shall know what we nurtured here, what we fought to protect. So that those who come after us, in times which are, with some luck, more receptive to us and our way of life, will properly comprehend the value of what we have. We wish to express how grateful we are for everything this place has given us - a haven, a home, a family; a renewed and rejuvenated life, such as we never dreamed we could ever find, in England or anywhere.

At my coaxing, my daughter and my son-in-law have here set down their writings - their recollections of their time spent on their individual paths, walked apart; and the way in which they fortuitously came together, against seemingly insurmountable odds. Although they are yet still so very young, both of them have led incredible lives; indeed, my son-in-law's remarkable experiences sometimes beggar belief. It is my most sincere hope that you, fair reader, will come to know him as we do, and to recognize in him the noblest 'savage' to have ever walked this earth. He is a treasure and a tribute to all who know him; save to those who have crossed him, may God alone forgive such foul deeds as would raise the ire of that most gracious heart. Of human guile and greed, he knows but the barest examples; which makes all this misguided rabble about him an even more lamentable injustice. The lad could be no greater friend and protector to me, nor treat my girl any better. We feel, both of us, that our lives have forever been enriched just by knowing him.

As the humble editor of this volume, I shall return from time to time, to impart what modest insights I may have to offer. For now, I hand you over to the esteemed mother of my son-in-law, who dictated her own discourse to my daughter for transcription. Before you turn away in ridicule from a passage authored by an ape, I ask you to at least do Kala the courtesy of hearing what she has to say. Simian though she may be, she is quite possibly the most sage, dignified lady whom I have ever encountered; save, perhaps, for my own very dear late wife.

Annabelle, my darling, I dedicate this to you. I miss you, and wish you could have dwelt in this verdant sanctuary alongside us. I know that you are still with us always: in my heart, and in the living image of our beloved daughter, who is as beautiful as you in every way.

- Archimedes Q. Porter

*My apologies to Tarzan; in hindsight, I acknowledge that his own mother, rest her soul, must have tread these remote shores of Africa some twenty years before mine and Janey's arrival. She and her husband will forever be remembered by us as the first brave pioneers to land and make their home here, in far less hospitable circumstance. This tome is also dedicated to their memory - lest we ever forget the invaluable legacy that they have left us.

My life has been mostly unremarkable, by jungle standards; save for two events that changed it forever.

The first was when my son Tarzan came to me, just when I needed him, and he needed me.

The second was when we welcomed his mate, Jane, and her father into our family.

From the time my son first entered my life, he became my life; he helped to heal my broken heart. All I have ever wanted is for him to be happy.

Jane makes him happier than I have ever seen him. She is everything I could wish for him in a mate.

I can imagine no happiness greater than this.

I only wish Kerchak could have lived to see it. I know he would be so very proud.

- K.

Editor: This discourse was verbalized in Gorilla language, which my daughter then translated into conventional English. I wish that readers could enjoy the delightful characteristics of the Ape-ish dialect; however, as they have no written vernacular of their own, we had no choice but to transcribe Kala's words into our own tongue. I can vouch for the fact that the translation has been admirably done, with very little change to the original meaning, nor loss of tone; and I say that with absolutely no bias of a father's pride. - A.Q.P.

Author's note: I might need to include my own notes every so often; it's my habit to do so in all my stories. To differentiate them from character commentary, which is part of the story, I'll format them in all-italics, like this. The rest of the story will alternate between Jane's and Tarzan's viewpoints; rather than break up the flow by putting their names at the head of each section, I will write the first few words of Jane's parts in italics, Tarzan's in bold, and Porter's beginning with 'Editor'. I hope it won't be too confusing; if it is, let me know and I'll change it.

By the way, 'Annabelle' is the name I chose for Jane's mother, since she goes unnamed in the film/tv series, despite being mentioned a few time. I chose it because it is similar to the 'Aunt Isabelle' that Porter mentions in the blackboard scene.