This is the second Canadian tabloid we’ve shared in October, and we have several others upcoming in the next few months. This time we’re back to Minuit, the sister publication of Midnight, published today in 1968 with a cover featuring Susan Boyd. She’s looking a little radioactive, and in unusually dark waters. This could everyone’s fate the way things are going in 2022. We don’t know what Minuit editors were shooting for here. Maybe they had a problem during the printing phase. But in it an odd way it’s actually a nice cover, and Boyd pops up again in the centerfold, looking much healthier.
Elswewhere inside the issue Minuit wastes no time with its efforts to shock. We learn about Vietmanese youngster Bon Ngoc Tho, who editors claim is a demi-homme born with many characteristics of his father—a monkey. We can say a lot about this, but let’s skip most of it and simply note that the 1960s were the tail end, so to speak, of a long-running fascination with supposed human freaks.
Moving on, editors have a curious photo of a model with something unidentifiable in her mouth. We took several guesses what the thing was, and they were all wrong. Turns out it’s a pea shooter—a tire-pois. No, we’d never seen one, but a few of you probably recognized it. Minuit editors claim it can kill a kid, and that hospitals around the U.S. have been treating serious pea shooter injuries, along with wounds inflicted by “blow zappers and Zulu-guns.” The article explains that the injuries come not from shooting the projectiles, but from swallowing them while inhaling to fire the weapon, occasionally piercing arteries in the neck.
There are more stories along those lines, but it isn’t all dark at midnight. Elsewhere in the issue you get men’s fitness, nymphomania, and plenty of celebs, such as Claudia Cardinale, Nai Bonet, and Maureen Arthur, plus Robert Vaughn hawking a 100% legitimate Man from U.N.C.L.E. “plume espion.” That means “spy feather,” which doesn’t help at all in determining exactly what it is. But a careful scan of the text suggests that it’s an x-ray vision device that works on everything from walls to clothes. Right. We’ll take two, and see you at the beach. Twenty-one scans below.
We have a new Canadian tabloid for you, an issue of Le Rendez-Vous published today in 1968 with a cover shot of Austrian star Marisa Mell, and in the centerfold a brilliant photo of German actress Elke Sommer we’re pretty sure has never been seen online before. We had to scan that in four pieces and merge the quadrants, which is time consuming, but in this case worth it, because—as you know if you visit the site often—we think Sommer is one of the all-time vintagegoddesses. And speaking from a graphic design perspective, we think we did a pretty good job of assembling her, if we may say so. Fellow German actress Babsi Zimmermann also makes an appearance, and we thought we’d never see her again, but 1968 seems to have been a very visible year for her—particularly in Canadian tabloids.
In typical cheapie scandal sheet style, Le Rendez-Vous is filled with ridiculous material on subjects ranging from crime to medicine. You’ll see a photo below of a human brain. The text there says, unsurprisingly, “Finally the secret of immortality… We can keep the brain alive separated from a dead body!” A Doctor Jacobsen claims brain transplants will become as popular as heart transplants. Okay, but heart transplants aren’t popular—they’re necessary. Big difference. However, if brain transplants were ever to become routine, we’d take one. Sure why not? It would be the ultimate mind altering experience, and we’ve never been against those. Twenty-plus scans below.
Oh, good. Hard liquor. I hope you have more, because I'm gonna need lots before we continue.
It’s another case of a good-girl-art makeover, as this 1952 Popular Giant paperback edition of Thomas H. Raddall’s 1950 novel The Nymph and the Lamp disguises as titillation what is actually a piece of serious literature by one of Canada’s most renowned authors. The guy even has a park named after him—Thomas Raddall Provincial Park, located in Nova Scotia, where he lived much of his life. He also co-founded the Queens County Historical Society, which runs the Thomas Raddall Research Centre, where visitors can see an exact replica of his study, furnished with his actual possessions. And there’s even the Thomas Head Raddall Award, which is given yearly to a writer from Canada’s Atlantic provinces who produces the best work of adult fiction.
But we didn’t know any of that when we read The Nymph and the Lamp, so we merely noted that it was an expertly written and deep reaching book about a grizzled telegraph operator named Matthew Carney who brings a somewhat younger woman named Isabel Jardin with him back to the lonely North Atlantic island outpost of Marina where he works with a small crew of colleagues, and lives together with them in the ancient telegraph building. Isabel didn’t realize she was signing up for cohabitation with multiple men in a sort of industrial workplace, and naturally has adjustment issues:
The place reeked of hot oil. It had a concrete floor and in the midst of it a large single-cylinder gasoline engine whirled a pair of flywheels. From one of these a long slatting belt led her eye to the generator, spinning and whining at the farther end of the room. [snip] Isabel, standing on the greasy floor, was startled by a terrific sound as sharp, as deafening as rifle shots, and the little engine room was lit by a rapid succession of bright violet flashes that sprang, like the sound, from the revolving brass spark-studs at the end of the generator shaft. Casting dignity aside she fled into the hall and covered her ears with her hands.
Matthew merely grinned. “You’ll get used to it,” he declared calmly. “There’s a muffling drum that fits over the spark disc but we leave it off.”
“Do you mean to say,” she demanded in a voice that sounded thin and strange in her singing ears, “that it goes on like that, day and night?”
“Only when the chap on watch is transmitting.”
“But the transmitting goes on day and night—at intervals, I mean?”
“Oh yes. As I say, you’ll get used to it.”
The island has other inhabitants aside from Isabel and the telegraphers. There’s a cadre of lifesavers who patrol the beaches for survivors of the frequent wrecks, a permanent lighthouse crew, and all the various workers’ wives and children. There are also wild ponies living among the windswept dunes, and plenty of seals and oceangoing birds. None of it thrills or interests Isabel, but she’s legitimately committed to Carney. The question is whether that committment can survive all the obstacles of life on a wild frontier.
Returning to the cover art, the creator here is Rafael DeSoto, who doesn’t really get across the mood of the story. The rear cover text, which is written in such a way as to compliment the painting, is also misleading. Someone does barge in on Isabel, but it’s an accident, and he has zero designs on her. He’s so drunk he doesn’t realize he’s in the wrong room. He’s soon removed, and the incident has no further bearing on the tale. But we’ll say this for GGA art—it has lured us into reading not just pulp style fiction, but obscure literary fiction too. Some of it, like The Nymph and the Lamp, is very good.
I heard this was a no Parkins zone. I'd like to have a word with you about that.
Canadian actress Barbara Parkins strikes a couple of fun poses in the above two promo images made when she was co-starring in The Kremlin Letter in 1970. She was mostly a television actress and is best remembered today for the soapy series Peyton Place, but she also appeared in the mostly forgotten but very interesting horror movie The Mephisto Waltz, and the Hollywood takedown Valley of the Dolls, which has become a cult fave. In total, she acted for almost forty years before retiring in 1998. We’ve seen quite a few shots of her, but we think these are the best.
Above: Canadian actress Alexis Smith in a promo image befitting her classic looks. We’ve watched her in such films as Conflict, The Turning Point, and Undercover Girl. There are dozens more from which to choose, ranging from westerns such as Cave of Outlaws to horror flicks like The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane. We aren’t able to date this photo, but it’s obviously from her prime, so call it 1950.
Minuit puts the country's hospitable reputation to the test.
Ever since we discovered a while back that the U.S. tabloid Midnight was actually a spin-off of Montreal based Minuit we’ve been looking around for issues. We finally had some luck. This example hit Canadian newsstands today in 1968, and on the cover is British actress Mollie Peters, or Molly Peters. Inside, various Hollywood stars are spotlighted in unflattering ways. Edy Williams was allegedly attacked by a lesbian; Paul Newman resorted to transcendental meditation to cut down on his drinking; Jason Robards, Jr. broke everything Humphrey Bogart related in Lauren Bacall’s house; Robert Vaughn paid off his extensive gambling debts and cancelled his credit cards; Janet Margolin allegedly ate a pound of ground beef every day for health reasons; and Ursula Andress attacked Anita Ekberg in a Paris restaurant for making eyes at Andress’s boyfriend Jean-Paul Belmondo.
There’s also a note on Babsi Zimmermann, who Minuit claims just refused a nude role in a French film. We noticed the blurb because of her name, which seems too good to be true, and familiar too. We looked her up and she did exist. It turns out she was better known as Barbara Zimmermann. She changed her stage name after the release of her first film, a counter-culture sexploitation romp called Heißer Sand auf Sylt, aka The New Life Style (Just to Be Love). Maybe she wanted a fresh start because the movie was such a stinker. We know it was bad because we wrote about it, which is why her name sounded familiar. She’s naked as a donskoy cat in it, so Minuit‘s claim that she refused the French movie makes sense if she wanted to rebrand herself. The change still has people confused. Currently IMDB has separate entries for Babsi and Barbara.
Minuit reserves special attention for U.S. actor George Hamilton, who had been generally targeted by tabloids for avoiding military service in Vietnam. Why him? We wrote about the reason a long while back, and if you’re curious you can check. Minuit wryly informs readers that, “George Hamilton somehow managed to break his toe the day after he received a notice to report to the U.S. Army recruiting center. This gives him an interesting three-month [deferral]. It’s clever, isn’t it?” Obviously, toes heal. Hamilton eventually received a full deferral for other reasons.
Also in this issue, Minuit editors treat readers to a story about a man cut in half by a train. We feel like it’s urban folklore, but there are photos—for any who might be convinced by those—and a long story explaining how a man named Regerio Estrada caught his wife Lucia in bed with another man, beat him unconscious, and tied him to a train track to await the next express. Do we buy it? Not really. The internet contains only a fraction of all knowledge and history, but we think this tawdry tale is so bizarre that it would have found its way online. There’s nothing. Or maybe we’re just the first to upload it. Anything is possible. We have additional colorful Canadian tabloids we’ll be sharing in the months ahead. You’ll find eighteen scans below.
Not only is Monica Bannister precariously positioned on her pedestal, but her gown is precariously positioned on her body. One wobble and she’ll end up on the floor showing plenty more than planned, but it just so happens she’s too graceful for that because her show business career was based on coordination. As dancer and actress she appeared in more than thirty films, including 1933’s Mystery at the Wax Museum, 1941’s Moon over Miami, and 1945’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. All her film appearances save two were uncredited, but she went on to open a dance school and teach others how to be graceful too. This photo came out of the studio of famed lensman Murray Korman, who photographed thousands of famous and would-be famous people from the 1920s into the 1950s. There’s no exact date on this, but it’s from the mid-1930s.
C'est le tabloïd bon marché! Scandale et crime! Incroyable!
Above: scans from the Canadian French tabloid Le Rendez-Vous, which appeared today in 1969 from Montréal based Publications Neoscope. The cover star is German actress Margaret Rose Keil (whose first name they spell Margret), and the text says, “A girl with no arms or legs goofs off.” Right, well, we aren’t sure what that means, and since Keil gets no inside play it’s never explained. Another of those Frenchisms no doubt. Elsewhere inside, you get various quick hits: actress Christiane Rucker gathering no moss, beautiful obscurity Tiffany Roberts with her precious pearls, and Rina Berti in the centerfold. You also get feature length stories about love and suicide, misbehaving scoutmasters, and Mia Farrow, who says, “I love humanity, but I hate people.” As you can see, Canadian tabloids were like U.S. tabloids, but a bit more exotique. We have more issues of Le Rendez-Vous, so we’ll get back to this subject later in the year.
Update: when if comes to Frenchisms, Jo is the man. He writes about the cover image:
The “gaffe” is a grip to catch the boat’s rope. It can be also a goof. As the girl has no legs and no arms, it’s a joke (not very funny). Maybe she catches men using what remains in her sexy body?
You’re right, Jo, it isn’t a funny joke, but it’s good information. We always want to know. Thanks as always.
Now that you've shot the continent's last white rhino can we do something I think is romantic?
Jonathan Latimer’s African adventure novel Dark Memory needs a more grandiose title, because it’s pure Hemingway, and you know how lyrical his titles were. Latimer’s novel is about nature, and courage, and women. It reads as if he said to himself after finishing Green Hills of Africa, “I wonder if I could do something like what Papa did here?” Well, he could. Dark Memory is a totally absorbing safari tale, a slice of time long gone. Latimer is in what we call the “trusted” category. He’s set-and-forget. He’s a concierge who’s never failed a customer. If he wants to take us on an African safari, all we can say is, “Where do we get our malaria shots?”
Today people who hunt big game are excoriated on social media, and we understand why. The animals they shoot are simply too rare and valuable to be killed for ego. The hunters of yesteryear also killed for ego, but did so under a more limited ecological understanding and more lax political circumstances. Some practices of the past shouldn’t survive, and killing lions for their skins shouldn’t survive any more than should gladiatorial combat with swords. Big game hunters of today know that these African animals will be slaughtered unto extinction, but they simply don’t care. Some might not want to shoot the last one, or hundredth one, or thousandth, but they’re offset by sociopaths who’d pay a fortune to usher a species to oblivion. It’s basic economics. The rarer the animal the more someone will pay to kill it.
If you were to search Dark Memory for good explanations why people kill African wildlife you’d be disappointed. Killing to prove one’s own courage, killing a silverback gorilla carrying an infant, all seems shallow and pointless even to the main character, Jay Nichols, part of a group slogging through the wilds of Belgian Congo. When he later refers to the shooting—actually his shooting—of that female gorilla as a murder, his feelings are made crystal clear. In one scene another hunter explains how, during his current duties guiding a party of Brits, they’ve killed two hippos. For no reason except vanity. Then he lists the other casualties: “Zebra, eland, antelope, kuku, oryx, wildebeest, hartebeest, topi, [impala], waterbuck, dik-dik, oribi, bushbuck, reedbuck. I can’t remember them all. Yes, and a number of different gazelles. We’ve killed more than two-hundred animals.”
Latimer is a show-not-tell type of writer, but seems to suggest that, while shooting a charging animal may prove a type of courage, it’s of the crudest kind. The same rough men don’t have enough courage to be truthful. Nor do they have the guts to be evenhanded—they must always weight the scales. Fairness angers them, because then they lose their advantages. But the book is only partly about all this. There’s a woman on the expedition, Eve Salles, and her role barely differs from that of the animals. She’s to be conquered for vanity too. In the context of this difficult trek through the Congolese jungle, she will be left in peace only if she belongs to someone. If the cruel, intimidating asshole running the safari has his druthers, it’ll be him. She resists this depressing reality, but how long can she last?
Latimer tackles his themes declaratively, methodically, repetitively, and close to flawlessly. The man could definitely weave a tale, but for modern readers it’ll be uncomfortable because he occasionally takes the route of racism in his descriptive passages. That’s often true of vintage literature. We write—for a living even—so we never cut ourselves off from good writing. There’s always something to learn. But those who read for pleasure should focus on the pleasure first. You have no other obligation, because there’s plenty of good writing out there that doesn’t equate gorillas and black men. But if, like the hunters in this book, you can trek past the hazards, your patience and forbearance will be rewarded—with high tension, savage action, deep reflection, and extraordinary visual power.
In the end, Dark Memory turns out to be a safari adventure that deftly channels the mid-century classics—Hemingway, Blixen, and others. Like those books, there’s a level of dismissal toward the inhabitants of the land the characters claim to love, yet also like those books, there’s insight into that rarefied realm of rich white Americans in the African wild. Latimer, a highly regarded crime writer, added big outdoor adventure to his résumé with Dark Memory, and as far as we’re concerned he pulled it off. Originally published in 1940, the cover at top is from the 1953 Perma-Doubleday edition, painted by Carl Bobertz. It’s actually a Canadian cover. We know only because every edition we’ve seen online has the price of 35¢, and a small notation that says: in Canada 39¢. Ours being 39¢, it must be Canadian. Brilliantly deduced, eh?
Hey, since you need cheering up, wanna split this Toblerone bar with me? It's got nougat in it.
James Hadley Chase was a double winner in 1951. That year You’re Lonely When You’re Dead was published in paperback by both Popular Library, which we showed you here, and by the Canadian imprint Harlequin, as you see above, and both received top notch cover art. Popular Library went literal and showed a body on a deserted nocturnal beach. Harlequin’s art is more general, with a woman under a looming shadow. Subliminally the shadow seems to carry a gun, but it really could be anything. It could be a letter, or a ruler, or a candy bar. In fact, on the subject of nonspecific, the painting could have been used for virtually any crime novel. There’s nothing that definitively ties it to this particular story. But it’s still a great effort. Unfortunately, it’s uncredited.
In Vietnam, American troops kill between 350 and 500 unarmed citizens, all of whom are civilians and a majority of whom are women, children, babies and elderly people. Many victims are sexually abused, beaten, tortured, and some of the bodies are mutilated. The incident doesn’t become public knowledge until 1969, but when it does, the American war effort is dealt one of its worst blows.
1937—H.P. Lovecraft Dies
American sci-fi/horror author Howard Phillips Lovecraft dies of intestinal cancer in Providence, Rhode Island at age 46. Lovecraft died nearly destitute, but would become the most influential horror writer of all time. His imaginary universe of malign gods and degenerate cults was influenced by his explicitly racist views, but his detailed and procedural style of writing, which usually pitted men of science or academia against indescribable monsters, remains as effective today as ever.
2011—Illustrator Michel Gourdon Dies
French pulp artist Michel Gourdon, who was the less famous brother of Alain Gourdon, aka Aslan, dies in Coudray, France aged eighty-five. He is known mainly for the covers he painted for the imprint Flueve Noir, but worked for many companies and produced nearly 3,500 book fronts during his career.
1964—Ruby Found Guilty of Murder
In the U.S. a Dallas jury finds nightclub owner and organized crime fringe-dweller Jack Ruby guilty of the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald. Ruby had shot Oswald with a handgun at Dallas Police Headquarters in full view of multiple witnesses and photographers. Allegations that he committed the crime to prevent Oswald from exposing a conspiracy in the assassination of President John F. Kennedy have never been proven.
1925—Scopes Monkey Trial Ends
In Tennessee, the case of Scopes vs. the State of Tennessee, involving the prosecution of a school teacher for instructing his students in evolution, ends with a conviction of the teacher and establishment of a new law definitively prohibiting the teaching of evolution. The opposing lawyers in the case, Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan, both earn lasting fame for their participation in what was a contentious and sensational trial.
This idyllic scene for Folco Romano’s 1958 novel Quand la chair s’éveille was painted by Alain Gourdon, aka Aslan. You'd never suspect a book with a cover this pretty was banned in France, but it was.
