Every night in Paris is a treasure hunt.
This “Paris la nuit” themed issue of Folies de Paris et de Hollywood from 1959 has, in addition to the usual dancers and showgirls, a list on the cover of the clubs at which they worked. We already knew some of the places, like The Crazy Horse Saloon and Pigall's, but there are many more, all with amazing names: Boule Blanche, Drap d'Or, Shako, Grisbi, Shocking, Le Sexy, et al. If we had to choose just based on the name we'd go with Shocking. It can't be too wild in 1959, right? Anyway, the list gave us the idea of digging up photos of these venerable entertainment halls, but you'd be surprised how few historical shots exist. We're going to keep working on that. In the meantime, enjoy the photos below of the artists who occupied those stages. They include Dolly Bell, Kitty Tam-Tam, Nicole Dore, Carole Riva, and more.
Caroselli bests the competition again.
Above is another beautiful piece painted by Benedetto Caroselli, a man we're going to go ahead and anoint one of the greatest paperback cover artists of all time. His work on Richard Walker's Nodo scorsoio—which means “slipknot”—is simply brilliant, with its red tressed, black dressed femme fatale, and graphic background elements. It dates from 1962 for Grandi Edizioni Internazionali's collection I Gialli dell'Ossessione, and is number ninety-seven in the series. The book was translated from Richard Walker's original English text by Domenico Vitali, and once again we suspected the translator was the author, since we're pretty sure this book was never actually released in English, thus would never have needed a translator. After some searching we confirmed our suspicions—Vitali wrote as Walker on several occasions, including two novels for Éditions S.E.P.'s P.J. Police collection. We're going to keep digging up art by Benedetto Caroselli because it's all good—every piece we've seen. You can see more of his work by clicking his keywords below.
It's time you got your hands dirty, tough guy. We'll start with a pedicure.
Above, an Ace double consisting of John Creighton's Trial by Perjury and Louis Trimble's The Smell of Trouble. Cover art is by uncredited and his twin brother unattributed. You can see another Ace double here.
I'm going to devour you like a rotisserie chicken and pick my teeth with your bones. I hope you don't find that too terribly forward.
Here's another mid-century novel for the ever growing lesbian corruptor bin, When Lights Are Low, by sleaze maestro Dallas Mayo, 1963, for Midwood-Tower. Mayo was a pseudonym inhabited by Gilbert Fox, who apparently wrote this when Midwood honcho Harry Shorten conjured the title out of thin air at lunch and told Fox to produce a book to go with it. You can read that tale at paulrader.com. Fox was super prolific, writing many books as Mayo, as well as under the names Kimberly Kemp and Paul V. Russo. The cover art is yet another brilliant effort from Paul Rader. It's inspired us to go have a snack of our own.
Funny, when I ordered these I actually thought they'd give me a bit more privacy.
We haven't had Virginia Gordon around these parts since we posted a spectacular record sleeve starring her in 2014, so here she is today on a nice Technicolor lithograph entitled “Baubles and Beads” that dates from 1958. See the earlier image here.
This is the clean side. I just finished using the other side with my Saturday through Tuesday boyfriend.
We checked online and the indications that you need a new mattress include: it's more than eight years old, you wake with aches and pains, and there's a noticeable sag. And the indications you need a new life include: your bed is in a filthy slum tenement. Such is the case with Perversity and Depravity, 1956 and 1957, in which virtually every character needs a do-over of their existence. Both books, by New Caledonian author Francis Carco, née François Carcopino-Tusoli, are set in the 1920s Parisian underworld of prostitution, crime, and poverty. Carco deals with these subjects compassionately, and his work is heavy with colloquialism and has a strong sense of place. He acquired his insight the old fashioned way—by consorting with the types of people he wrote about. Though his work is obscure in the English speaking world, he was fairly well regarded in his day and is still remembered in France. These are dark books, maybe even brutal, certainly ahead of their time. Harry Barton painted the cover of Perversity and an uncredited artist handled the chores on Depravity.
Hi! I'll be filling in for your regular wife this evening. How many times do I have to ask you to take out the damn garbage?
We saw this Robert Bonfils piece at pulpcovers.com and couldn't resist re-using it. Bill Russo's Substitute Wife, 1962, from Playtime Books. Remember—there's nothing like the real thing.
You liar! Your website promised high speed internet!
You ever stay in a place and the internet sucks? It happens to us all the time. The amenities are also sorely lacking at Guido d’Arpino's San Francisco rooming house, but at least his daughter Emma is sexually available to most of the guests that roll through, including touring saxophonist Harry Purcell. Their involvement produces an unexpected customer bonus: pregnancy! The impending arrival of the little d’Arpino sets into a motion a series of events that leads to murder. Since the story is told in flashback at Harry's trial, none of this is a surprise, but the details of how he ended up in the dock are interesting, and in the end the lesson of this Prohibition era tale is clear—never get involved with a musician. And we say that as musicians. We're the worst. Pretty good book, though. In the same way San Fran exteriors are used in some of the best mid-century noir movies, author Fred Malloy (a pseudonym too involved to work out on a perfect beach day, sorry), uses San Fran specificity to spice this one up. For people interested in the city, that alone probably is worth the price of the book. 1954 copyright on this edition, and cover art by Saul Levine.
Must be the tropical weather that brings out the beast in them.
Affair in Trinidad, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1952, brought Gilda co-stars Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford together for another go round as star crossed lovers in a foreign land. Hayworth is a nightclub singer, and Ford is the brother of her dead husband, who's first thought to be a suicide, then suspected to have been murdered. There's no mystery who's responsible—it's the oily one percenter who wants Hayworth for himself. Ford wants this fella to hang from Trinidad's highest coconut palm, but Hayworth stands in his way for reasons you'll have to watch the movie to discover.
Overall, as an attempt to rekindle that ole Gilda magic, Affair in Trinidad fails, mainly because Ford is not as appealing as in the former movie. But the problem could lie with us—we don't buy anger, jealousy, and brutal face slaps as aphrodisiacs. We know, we know—things were different in 1952. But puhleeeze—that different? Just because she was kind of nice to him, it means he owns her? We just can't get behind slappy Glenn and his primitive behavior. Affair in Trinidad isn't bad—it just isn't good, exactly. But at least Hayworth works some singing and dancing magic. It isn't as fun as watching her deliver a swift kick to the nutsack would have been, but at least she makes the best of her situation.
Wow, that's one slappable babe. Appearing nightly? I better come back and see if I can slap her.
Slow motion replay. Slaaaaaaaap!
Christ, does my face hurt. You must really love me.
I can slap you too. Lemme slap you too. Look, my hand is ready to slap. I'll slap so good you won't believe how good I slap. I do the best slaps.
I just can't get that slap out of my head. Focus, girl! Spying to do.
I usually slap, but you I'll choke. Because I dig you too, in a different way.
A one, a two, a one, two, three, four: Though my face is swollen I'm so thrilled my man's controllin' in the moooooor-nin!
Every time he hurts me I just have to swirl my skirts because he waaaaarned me!
It ain't a man's fault he hits me! I shouldn't... re-sist!
It's just a man being manly! He can't... de-sist!
Ladies let me warn you too! These guys... are... rude!
But hey, it's the 1950s! There's nothing... I can... do!*
*Please don't send us any obtuse e-mails. We obviously abhor violence against women.
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