Read more out of academic interest than in expectation of enjoyment, which is just as well.

The racism is obviously horrible and extreme, and many more insightful reviewers than me have rightly pulled these books apart for it. But to add to the fire, it's worth noting that it's not even as if Sax Rohmer's prejudice is a deplorable trait of an otherwise good writer (in the strictly craftsman sense of the term); it would be nothing close to an excuse, but is at least a point that could be made to explain the continued interest in, say, Ian Fleming or Hergé.

Rohmer's plotting is weak to the point of absurdity (a castle falls down for no other reason than dramatic effect), his characters and incidents pale imitations of much better ones (Nayland Smith one of many Holmes imitators who stuffed magazine pages at the time), and the structure abysmal (these were first published as short stories and knitted together for collected publication, and it shows).

He's got a certain talent for capturing a scary mise en scène, and individual exciting incidents went on to inspire much better writers: Fleming among them, and Alan Moore has done some interesting stuff with Rohmer's characters. But there's no pretending these are timeless works that deserve to be remembered alongside Arthur Conan Doyle.

Poor in so many more ways on top of plain prejudice. ( )

M brother rather despised Nayland Smith and preferred Fu Manchu, who was, at least on occasion, more honorable than his enemies. On the whole, I tend to prefer some of Rohmer's other stories to the Fu mancu books, but there is no denying that Dr. Fu is as ,much a classic contribution to pulp literature as Dracula or Tarzan: the incarnation of the Yellow Peril. ( )

Nowhere near as good as the first novel in the series.

The Return of Fu Manchu was to my surprise, pure pulp fiction. That would be a marvelous find, or a terrible disappointment, depending on your taste. The horribly evil and utterly brilliant Fu Manchu is out to conquer the world and gain dominion for the corrupt, sinister, inscrutable Chinese. The only thing standing in his way is Nayland Smith, who as Burmese Commissioner is the epitome of a British colonial officer – a proto James Bond -- and his trusty sidekick, Dr. Petrie. Imagine Holmes and Watson with a bit more brawn and a bit less brain.

The novel was written in 1916, just five years after the Boxer Rebellion in China had been crushed. That rebellion is mentioned only once as an aside, but it’s clear that the fear of destruction at the hands of millions of “devilish” Chinese colors the story. Fu Manchu is the type of villain that is delightful to despise. He steals every scene he’s in (and some he is not) and is simply great stuff, if you can manage to overlook the blatant and absurd racism.

To say the plot is breathless would be a serious understatement. Every twist is prefaced by phrases such as “Many strange and terrible memories are mine, memories stranger and more terrible than those of the average man; but this thing which now moved slowly down upon us through the gloom of that impenetrable place, was (if the term be understood) almost absurdly terrible.”

The turns of the story are easy to predict, perhaps because the book was written before such narrative surprises had become commonplace. Ugly jingoism and chilling clichés aside, The Return of Fu Manchu is a great escapist jaunt. ( )