Who needs a man when you have technology?
Éditions R.R. specialized in beautiful covers, and this one continues the trend. The art is by Jef de Wulf, and it fronts Dit oui, Madame by René Roques. You can't tell, but this is about a woman who falls in love with a robot. And he's a French robot, so he shares his feelings, which is more than you do. Roques actually got racy enough here that the book was banned shortly after publication in 1957. Still, we bet it wasn't as wild as this mechanical lover novel. Or for that matter this one. They say robots are going to take all our jobs. Add sex to the list.
For you this is just a light, but for me it's the beginning of a self-destructive sexual obsession and eventual restraining order.
We're going to do one more entry on France before we head to other countries. Once we have time to do some intensive scanning you'll see the bulk of our Paris treasures. Paris, by the way, is a city where strangers often ask you for a light, which is why we thought of the above subhead. If we actually smoked it would be a great way to meet people, but since we never have an actual light all interaction ends there. So while we learn how to smoke, above you see a cover for Elle ne perd pas son temps, by George Maxwell, aka Georges Esposito, for Presses Mondiales and its series Les grands romans dessinés, published in 1953. These were comic books adapted from the series La Môme Double-Shot, specifically 1952's La belle se joue à deux, which you can see here. Elle ne perd pas son temps translates to “She doesn't waste her time,” and neither did the artist Jacques Thibésart, aka Mik, when he painted this nice cover. If you're inclined you can see examples from him here, here, and here, and you can certainly expect more in the future.
Finally a place where the left/right divide isn't a bad thing.
No pulp hunter in Paris can possibly do without a trip to the bouquinistes, the sellers of used and antiquarian books located along the Seine. Actually, you don't even have to look for these guys. If you go into the city center you'll likely run into them without trying, since they're rather widely arrayed along the river's right bank between Pont Marie and Quai du Louvre, and on the left between Quai de la Tournelle and Quai Voltaire. It was rainy both days we popped by, which meant some weren't open. But even operating at less than half capacity, the bouquinistes had hidden treasures. We grabbed a few little things we'll be scanning and uploading imminently. For example, see the following post...
They're actually a little rude but the French don't seem to mind
Here you see the cover and few scans from Les femmes de Manara, which is a compendium from 1995 featuring published as well as previously unseen women created by the agile hand of Milo Manara, one of the great illustrators of graphic novels. He was born in Italy and was copiously published both there and in France, and remains extremely popular all over Europe. His niche is explicit erotica, and he's done it better than just about anyone, populating his books with lithe, beautiful women who manage to get into the weirdest scrapes. In Il Gioco, aka Click or Le Déclic, for example, the character Claudia Cristiani has an implant placed in her brain to help her with sexual arousal, which is all well and good until the remote control that operates it breaks and she's left in an ongoing nymphomaniacal state. It was made into a movie which we may discuss later, by the way. In Gulliveriana Manara's heroine survives a storm at sea only to find herself stranded naked on an island of tiny people. No movie of that, though we'd love to see one made. Anyway, these panels will certainly give you an idea why Manara became an icon in his field. He's still active, and maintains a nice website, frequently updated. So for more info on this master illustrator look there.
Pulp Intl. visits Paris as it springs into summer.
We're going to Paris for a bit. The trip is not due to our initiative. The Pulp Intl. girlfriends plan to intersect with friends passing through there, and we're going along partly to keep them company and partly to buy magazines and books. When the girls go to meet pals we generally stay home and take the opportunity to eat popcorn, hit the bars until sunrise, and churn out website material at an increased rate, but not when Paris is involved. As buying opportunities go, that's a city you can't pass up. So the website will be idle for a few days. Five or six, depending.
Second topic, you remember a technical glitch threw us offline a while back. Every time that happens we lose some functionality or other, and this time it was the ability to navigate to earlier pages using keywords or section headers. Savvy internet users know that it's possible to paste “?next=10” onto the end of the url and navigate backwards by changing the number—i.e. “?next=20,” “?next=30,” etc. So that's an option for those that want to bother.
But it's also a pain, and we know that. We will fix the navigation problem, hopefully soon. But of course, that will be a case of slapping duct tape on the most rickety old website left online. So, as we've been promising for years, a Pulp Intl. 2.0 is coming. It's 95% built, we swear. Whether that final 5% will take a week, a month, or years is not known at this point. We'll get there eventually. But right now we want to get to Paris. We'll be back soon.
When the lights go down the stars come out.
This beautiful poster with a statuesque dancer front and center was made to promote a documentary on burlesque, a Japan-only release with no western distribution or title, called 日本の夜, which basically would translate as “Japanese Nights.” The central figure is Gypsy Rose Lee, and the movie was filmed in 1962 by Keiji Oono—not in Japan, but rather largely at Le Lido de Paris, home of the legendary Bluebell Girls. Le Lido still exists, though it's moved from its original 1946 location. If it's anything like the poster, with singers and geishas and glittering comet trails, we'll be visiting on our next trip to Paris.
There's nothing like the Aslan touch.
Here's something a bit different—a poster advertising an exhibition of work by the great French illustrator Aslan, also known as Alain Gourdon. It began today in 1977 in Paris at Art Concorde, a gallery of the era. There are probably still occasional exhibits of Aslan's work in France, but it's cheaper to see it on Pulp Intl. The better examples are here, here, here, and here, plus we wrote a little post when he died, which you can see here.
I'd prefer to eat her with a Château Latour Pauillac and some grilled vegetables, but a werewolf has to make do.
This lycanthrope painted by William Randolph for the cover of Avon's 1951 edition of Guy Endore's The Werewolf of Paris has been caught red-handed eating his entree without a side and a garnish, not to mention the lack of a fine red wine. Being a murderous werewolf is one thing. That can be forgiven. But eating this way could cost him his French citizenship. Endore's take on werewolfery was originally published in 1933, was almost forgotten as recently as a few years ago, but seems to be gaining stature of late. We're happy to do our part. It's a deliberate tale—its setting in late 1800s France first has to be framed by a 1930s snoop doing a retelling from a found court manuscript, then within the account the wolfman character of Bertrand must be conceived, born, and raised, before being set on his bloody path in Paris, a city that offers a perfect hiding place. Endore explains why with this lyrical passage:
Before the greater importance of thousands going to death, before a greater werewolf drinking the blood of regiments, of what importance was a little werewolf like Bertrand?
Which is to say Bertrand has disappeared into the labyrinth of Paris during the chaos of the Franco-Prussian War. His appetites soon grow to include not only the living, but the dead, which he digs from fresh graves in Père Lachaise and Cimetière de Montmartre. Pretty interesting stuff, this novel. Of course, werewolf stories always end tragically, but it's the journey that matters. Endore crafts an atmospheric tale—and one that's sexually frank too, for 1933. Well, vive la différence. The French public was not quite so puritanical as the Americans about sexual explorations in art. Nor about sacrilege, nor children being eaten, nor incest, it seems. But as horrific as all these atrocities are, ultimately Endore asks which is the greater werewolf—Bertrand or war? Since in reality one exists and the other doesn't, we know the answer. The Werewolf of Paris is a fascinating tale, not pulp style, but certainly worth a read for fans of any types of fiction.
Stuck between noir and a dark place
London born Sally Gray has an interesting aka—she was Constance Vera Browne, Baroness Oranmore and Browne. From 1930 to 1952, billed as Gray, she appeared in more than twenty films, including Danger in Paris, Green for Danger, I Became a Criminal, and the 1949 film noir Obsession. We don't have a date on this photo but the noir style of it, Gray's youthful appearance, and the fact that she made no films between 1942 and 1945 leads us to triangulate it to around 1946. Don't quote us on it.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1950—U.S. Decides To Fight in Korea
After years of border tensions on the partitioned Korean peninsula, U.S. President Harry Truman orders U.S. air and sea forces to help the South Korean regime repel an invasion by the North. Soon the U.S. is embroiled in a war that lasts until 1953 and results in a million combat dead and at least two million civilian deaths, with no measurable gains for either side.
1936—First Helicopter Flight
In Berlin, Germany, in a sports stadium, Ewald Rohlfs takes the Focke-Wulf Fw 61 on its first flight. It is the first fully-controllable helicopter, featuring two counter rotating rotors mounted on the chassis of a training aircraft. Only two are ever produced, and neither survive today.
1963—John F. Kennedy Visits Berlin
22 months after East Germany erects the Berlin Wall as a barrier to prevent movement between East and West Berlin, John F. Kennedy visits West Berlin and speaks the famous words "Ich bin ein Berliner." Suggestions that Kennedy misspoke and in reality called himself a jelly donut are untrue.
2009—Farrah Fawcett Dies
American actress Farrah Fawcett, who started as a model but became famous after one season playing detective Jill Munroe on the television show Charlie's Angels
after a long battle with cancer.
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