French publisher Editions Ferenczi had a Verrou unique way of doing things.
Collection le Verrou (The Lock Collection) consisted of 205 pocket-sized crime novels published in France by Editions Ferenczi from 1950 to 1959. Some were written by French authors using pseudonyms that sounded English or American, while other writers used their real names, such as Alexandra Pecker (yes, that's a real name) and René Poupon (idem). Other books were written by U.S. or British writers and had been previously published. For instance, above you see Le singe de cuivre by Harry Whittington, which you might know as The Brass Monkey, and below you'll find entries from Lawrence Blochman and English scribe Peter Cheney, better known as Peter Cheyney. The art on these books is generally quite colorful. The cover above was painted by Michel Gourdon, and below you'll find another piece from him, many efforts from Georges Sogny, and a couple from as-yet-unknowns. We really like Ferenczi's output, so expect us to share more covers from this publisher later.
My goodness, your playing dead has gotten so, um, convincing. On a tué Déjanire, for which see this interesting cover above, was written for Editions Ferenczi by Ange Arbos, aka Adrien Sobra, aka Marc Agapit in 1952. Arbos was born in 1897 and wrote scores of books, as well as many short stories, the latter notably for Mystère Magazine, which was the French version of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Arbos’ fiction was pretty dark, ranging from the Hitchcockian suspense to pure horror and fantasy. We’ll get back to him later. Today we just wanted to show you the art, which gave us a laugh. But then again, it would. We’re cat people.
To make a long story short. During our Paris trip a while back we found this trio of roman-policiers from Editions Ferenczi, 1952, and Editions J. Ferenczi & Fils, 1947, and after some hard bargaining snatched them up for six euros. J. Ferenczi was Hungarian-born Joseph Ferenczi, one of the main guys in Parisian pulp publishing during the first half of the twentieth century. These three booklets were written by Jean Voussag (Le diamant de Valparaiso), Paul Tossel (Trafic en orient), and Jean Dryer (Le mystérieux T… i…), and they run thirty-two pages, just about the right amount of time for a commute via train or metro. Too bad this concept has died—we’d certainly buy a cheap mini-book for a bus ride or short plane flight. Considering how traditional publishing has fallen on hard times, you think they’d explore the possibility that this market still exists. Anyway, you’ll be seeing more French pulp from us soon. Our plan is to empty our French shelf in the next couple of months and tote all this stuff back to the original booksellers to trade. Will they actually take it back? Who knows? But any excuse to go to Paris in the spring is a good one.
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The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1910—First Seaplane Takes Flight
Frenchman Henri Fabre, who had studied airplane and propeller designs and had also patented a system of flotation devices, accomplishes the first take-off from water at Martinque, France, in a plane he called Le Canard, or "the duck." 1953—Jim Thorpe Dies
American athlete Jim Thorpe, who was one of the most prolific sportsmen ever and won Olympic gold medals in the 1912 pentathlon and decathlon, played American football at the collegiate and professional levels, and also played professional baseball and basketball, dies of a heart attack. 1958—Khrushchev Becomes Premier
Nikita Khrushchev becomes premier of the Soviet Union. During his time in power he is responsible for the partial de-Stalinization of the Soviet Union, and presides over the rise of the early Soviet space program, but his many policy failures lead to him being deposed in October 1964. After his removal he is pensioned off and lives quietly the rest of his life, eventually dying of heart disease in 1971. 1997—Heaven's Gate Cult Members Found Dead
In San Diego, thirty-nine members of a cult called Heaven's Gate are found dead after committing suicide in the belief that a UFO hidden in tail of the Hale-Bopp comet was a signal that it was time to leave Earth for a higher plane of existence. The cult members killed themselves by ingesting pudding and applesauce laced with poison.
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