This striking paperback cover for Mr. Arkadin was put together for Britain’s WDL Books by R. W. Smethurst, a well-known illustrator of comic books during the 1950s and 1960s. The Smethurst signature you see is not an autograph, but rather part of the art, something many of his covers contained. But the fact that he claims credit at all is rather interesting, because the art isn’t completely his. He seems to have borrowed his red-skirted femme fatale from Robert Maguire, who painted her for John D. MacDonald’s April Evil, below. It’s quite possible the other figures are borrowed as well. How strange.  

Yet, it’s fitting. Welles was consumed by the question of fakery. His documentary F for Fake discusses the subject in absorbing detail, even focusing on his own work. In short, he suggests that authenticity is a chimerical concept because it is subject to human error and fraud. While Welles slyly avoided explicitly claiming authorship of the Mr. Arkadin novelization, Maurice Bessy’s role, if it was ever widely known, was reconfirmed only in 2007. It’s easy to suspect that Welles knew the role of his ghostwriter would be forgotten. We’re talking about a man, after all, whose career caught fire thanks to one of history’s ultimate fakes—his panic inducing War of the Worlds broadcast.

We’re pretty sure, Smethurst, however, is not actually playing with the concept of fakery. John D. MacDonald was not obscure and neither was artist Robert Maguire, so there was no attempt at theft when Smethurst painted a close duplicate of Maguire’s femme (or excised it whole). His cover falls into the category of pastiche—work in the style of another. What we’d really enjoy is if someone out there identified the other figures on the cover. But if those are Smethurst’s that would prove interesting too. In the meantime, if you want to know about Welles’ F for Fake and learn more about his attitudes toward authenticity, go here.

We’ve explored several cover motifs in pulp art, and another we’ve grown to appreciate is the use of venetian blind shadows or silhouettes. Always a dramatic addition to a cover, we could probably compile fifty of these, at least, but here are twenty examples. The artists—Emilio Freix, Robert Maguire, James Hodges, and others—use them to greater and lesser degrees, and opt for both literal and stylized renderings. For instance, the above cover from Maguire shows vertical shadows, but the sense of venetian blinds remains. As always, thanks to all the original uploaders.

A few years ago we shared a collection of pulp covers featuring women holding smoking guns. Most of them, but not all, were standing over dead victims. Today we decided to revisit the idea, but this time feature only women standing over men they’ve just gunned down. We found many examples, but these are five of the best. Kind thanks to the original uploaders.

There have been many covers for Dashiell Hammett’s great novel The Thin Man. This is one of the best..

Update: A reader sent in an email not long after we posted the above pointing out that the artist copied Robert Maguire's cover art for Jack Webb's The Brass Halo. Though not completely identical, it's fair to say the second artist more or less just changed the colors. There are many examples of copying out there. We even dedicated a previous post to it. We also shared a collection that featured one copy in a group of eight covers. With this third example we have a mind to dig into the phenomenon a bit more. We're really curious now who the copycats are. We'll get back to you later on it, assuming we find out anything. Thanks to Miga for writing in and locating the below image.

In honor of ’Gator Bait, which we wrote about a few days ago, we’ve gathered together a small collection of covers with art set in swamps and bayous. There are many different types of swamp denizens. You got your babes, your nymphs, your spawn, and even your occasional brat. Usually these creatures are safe to be around, but do remember that they attack if provoked. Thanks to all the original uploaders for these images.

We love vintage paperback covers featuring armed women. But we especially love them when the women are directing their attention toward the viewer. Since pulp style literature is read primarily by men, such illustrations speak implicitly about a man’s thwarted expectations, and conversely of threatened women turning the tables to become empowered. We see this above, where a beleaguered woman defends her helpless man against an enemy we can't see because we're living inside his body. Below are thirteen more examples of women menacing you the viewer, with art by James Avanti, Robert Maguire, Harry Schaare, Rudolph Belaski, Harry Barton, and others. Thanks to flickr.com for some of these.

Above, assorted pulp covers of gun-brandishing women, including a nice image in panel six from Robert Maguire. And yes, we know that the Anglicized "femmes fatale" is accepted in the U.S. and elsewhere, but living in a place where there are quite a few French people, we could never get away with that. Noun and adjective must agree, so it's "femmes fatales."

The novel Muscle Boy appeared in 1958, courtesy of author Bud Clifton, aka David Derek Stacton, and concerns a nineteen year-old bodybuilder who gets involved with a shady photographer. The photographer sells racy pix to private customers and, as we all know quite well, when photographs are involved (see the previous post) trouble is sure to follow. The story was inspired by an actual crime ring based in San Francisco, but Clifton transplanted the action to Muscle Beach and populated it with an assortment of flamboyant party boys and hustlers. The book sold well, and today it’s a bit of an underground classic, which probably explains why we saw it on Amazon for $80. We love a trashy tale, especially when it comes with Robert Maguire art like this one, but what’s the point spending that much to read about bad decisions, humiliation and regret when we can live those things ourselves simply by putting the same amount of money into alcohol? We’re nothing if not logical around here.