A Few Pulp Covers Front And Back

 

I've been a fan of pulp fiction since I was in my late teens back in the 70s. I've read many of the authors in that genre, some of whom knew how to tell a story, and some who were really bad, of course, in it only for the money. Collecting pulp paperbacks, specifically with covers from certain artists, was a passion for a long time and during my years of working in book stores and volunteering at libraries I amassed quite a large amount of them. Due to yet another address change, however, I was forced to get rid of them, some of which I sold for a tidy profit, though most of which I just donated in the hope they'd find a nice new home. Just by accident I found these scans I made back in the 90s. I hope you like them.  

I did try to read Dope, honestly. It was impossible. Total propoganda, but you must admit that the cover is a hoot. That poor girl. She looks like a lost Nancy Drew.

Marlon Brando in his prime was one fine actor. This film is a lesser-known vehicle for him, with the fiery and voluptious Anna Maganani as co-star. She's excellent, perfectly cast. I've seen a production on stage of Williams' Orpheus Descending, and though I liked it, and I'm an avid Tennessee Williams fan, I still think the movie is better, that it breathes livelier and maintains more tension than the play. The liberties taken by the film's director Sidney Lumet, a first-rate talent and one of the best of his generation, allowed the film a larger scope and less of a claustrophobic feel. I wouldn't say this, however, of all the Williams stage-to-screen adaptations.

If you're a fan of Marlon Brando, or an aspiring actor, I'd like to recommend his autobiography, Songs My Mother Taught Me. It's an easy read and not pedantic at all. He writes with great love for his mother, and with respect for his Nebraska roots and those who helped him as he made his way in New York City in his early days. A picture of a time and certainly an America that no longer exists.

 

Here's another leading man, Ray Milland, a Welshman by birth, who in his prime demanded a top Hollywood salary and carried many a memorable film. I always found his diction to be superbly clear, and he was of that generation of males who showed self-esteem and confidence by behaving as gentlemen, dressing well, not talking down to people, comporting themselves with courtesy and empathy. 

Milland's performance in The Lost Weekend earned him an Oscar in 1945. This film is one of many works of genius directed by the maverick Billy Wilder, who would go on to win an Oscar or two himself and work with some of the best actors in Hollywood at that time. 

I can also recommend Ray Milland's autobigraphy, Wide-Eyed In Babylon, as a quick cozy read full of anecdotes and stories about the movie business during that era, but also about life in Wales for a young boy before the second world war.

The author Charles Jackson should be noted here. He's a largely forgotten novelist, and I think unfairly so, from the American South who was, in my opinion, very much a cut above the average pulp fiction writer during his era. 

I think The Lost Weekend still stands up as a depiction of alcoholism, despair and the war era malaise that many were suffering through at that time. Though the film is quite good, I think the novel, as many of them do, goes deeper into the psychology of the alcoholic's affliction. 

I'd also recommend another Jackson novel, his sixth, A Second Hand Life, which I believe a small classic in a minor key of American Southern Gothic fiction.