The mannequins of Paris exhibit less-than-model behavior.
The French word “mannequins” usually means models, so Mannequins de Paris is not about lifeless mannequins, but actual living models. In particular, it’s about the models at a haute couture fashion house in Paris who decide to break up by any means necessary the affair between the house’s head designer and a beautiful singer from Cannes. Their goal is to save the designer’s marriage, because he co-owns the house with his high powered wife, and a split could bring disaster for the models. We didn’t actually read the book, though. We know what happens because it’s a novelization of the screenplay from the 1956 film of the same name, also written by François Campaux. We may check that out later. It sounds positively Bardotesque, though it stars Madeleine Robinson, Ivan Desny, and Mischa Auer. Mainly, though, we wanted to highlight this cool cover art by André Bertrand. He’s a new name for us, but one we’ll keep watch for in the future.
Renoir takes impressionism in a whole new direction.
The above image shows French burlesque dancer Rita Renoir, who gained fame on stage at the Parisian nightclub Le Crazy Horse during the 1950s and danced there through the ’60s. She also performed onscreen, appearing in such films as 1958’s Le Sicilien, 1967’s Le Désir Attrapé par la Queue, 1970’s Cannabis, and Italian legend Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1964 drama Il deserto rosso, aka The Red Desert. We have more of this fun series below, and you’ll see that Renoir had a real talent for musical progression. We don’t think she actually knew how to play the double bass, but we bet she still managed to get her audiences jazzed.
Excuse me madam, would you like to hear an American's opinions about everything?
John Steinbeck’s Un americano en Nueva York y en Paris was published in 1957 by Ediciones Mariel, which was based in Buenos Aires. First published in 1956 in France as Un Américain à New York et à Paris, this is a collection of articles that Steinbeck wrote for Le Figaro when he was living in Paris. Because they originally appeared in French for a French publication many went unpublished in English for decades. In fact we can’t be sure all the essays are available in English even today, though one would like to assume so. In any case, that’s why this book caught our eye—because it surprised us that the entire collection of essays was available in Argentina, but not the U.S., almost immediately after they appeared in France.
Steinbeck was a serious writer, and thus was considered a serious persona, but the Le Figaro essays gave him a chance to show readers his wit and humor. Some of his observations read so contemporarily they could be from a year ago, particularly his musings over a restaurant owner who received a Michelin star, then spent every waking moment plotting, hoping, suffering to get another. He hopes to have his chance when the Michelin critic schedules another visit. The fact that the chef’s official taster is Steinbeck’s cat Apollo just adds more absurdity to the tale, as the genius who wrote Of Mice and Men veers into the silliness of cats and menus.
The parts of Un americano en Nueva York y en Paris not about France consist of articles concerning New York, culture, and politics. One of those latter entries, from 1954, is about Joseph McCarthy, who was in full witch hunt mode at the time. Much of the literati were loudly opposed to the proto-fascist senator, but Steinbeck took a different tack, writing that democracies occasionally need a challenge from demagogues in order to evolve, because such dark episodes remind people what democratic ideals really are—i.e. everyone gets to participate, not just self-appointed gatekeepers and purity-testers afraid of change or losing power. The tent of democracy always gets bigger, not smaller. It can’t do the latter and qualify as a democracy.
The cover art on this was painted by J.C. Cotignola, whose work appeared on various Argentine and Brazilian publications, but who isn’t well known today. Bang up job though. To us the title of the collection somewhat echoes George Orwell’s acclaimed Down and Out in Paris and London, another book about knocking around in a couple of big cities. The difference is Orwell was so poor he almost starved to death—he literally ate moldy bread out of garbage cans to survive. Steinbeck was the toast of Paris when he was there. Given a choice, we’d skip the mold and go straight to the toast. Preferably with a layer of rillette de porc on top. Even Apollo the cat would approve of that.
We’re back to burlesque today with a photo of the famed Crazy Horse dancer who went by the name of Miss Zabou. Born and raised in Mali, she was the daughter of a village chieftain, and at sixteen became a member of Mali’s Le Troupe de Ballet. After a few years she went to Dakar, Senegal for more prosaic work as a hairdresser, and from there moved on to Paris to do the same. Upon visiting Crazy Horse she became interested once more in dance, which we imagine says a lot about either how thrilling Crazy Horse extravaganzas were, or how much more money Parisian burlesqueteers made than Malian ballerinas. In any case, she jettisoned hairdressing, and the beautiful Zabou and her radiant smile became the talk of Paris. We have one more photo of her we may post a little later.
Below, seven more examples of vintage paperbacks using the Eiffel Tower on their covers. You can add these to the collection of twenty-two we put together a few years back.
Mitchum packs everything he needs for traveling except his sleuthing hat.
This beautiful poster for the Robert Mitchum thriller Foreign Intrigue is yet another framable delight from the golden age of Hollywood. Wikipedia calls this movie a film noir, but genre designations are often wrong there and on IMDB. This is actually a spy movie, often light in tone, sort of like the later films Charade and Arabesque. Mitchum is an American in Paris working as a press agent for a reclusive one percenter.
When his employer dies of a heart attack, Mitchum comes to believe there was more to the death than a blown ventricle. He follows a trail of clues from the French Riviera to Vienna and Stockholm, which is where the foreign part of Foreign Intrigue comes in. The intrigue part? Well, that never fully develops. In fact, the movie falls back on the cliché of having the villains explain their plot to the protagonist. It has to do with money, blackmail, traitors, and Hitler. Trust us, it’s not as interesting as it sounds.
Compounding the narrative problems is a dopey soundtrack and a Mitchum who’s short on charm here. The flirtations between him and Swedish love interest Ingrid Thulin are solid wood. She went on to win Best Actress at the 1958 Cannes Film Festival, which goes to show that half of acting is screenwriting.
Are there any saving graces to Foreign Intrigue? Of course. It’s well shot, atmospheric, cast with international actors and their wonderful accents, and is a nice travelogue, encompassing Mediterranean villas, Vienna backstreets, and Swedish lakes, all in lush Eastmancolor. And Mitchum is watchable even in a film that mostly wastes his considerable star power. Intrigued? Then go for it. Foreign Intrigue premiered today in 1956.
He kills, robs, and terrorizes—yet still has panache. How very French.
This is one of the oldest book covers we’ve shared. Fantômas, written by Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre, was originally published in 1911 by Librairie Arthème Fayard with uncredited art. We located a digital translation and were treated to a complex and somewhat episodic novel pitting the titular murderer and thief Fantômas against a clever and determined detective named Juve in a deadly pan-Parisian cat-and-mouse. Juve knows that many crimes committed in and around the city are the work of Fantômas, but catching him—when many believe he’s just a figment of fearful imaginations—is another matter.
Fantômas and Juve are both adept with disguises, and a third character disguises himself as a woman. The focus on such playacting makes us believe costumes held a particular fascination for the French at that time. The main surprise for us with this book was how evil Fantômas is. He kills one guy, crams him in a shipping crate, and injects his body with some chemical or other to keep the smell down. He shows his brutality in other instances as well. It’s hard to wrap our heads around the fact that French readers embraced a tale that starred a serial killer, but then again the French were traditionally ahead of the artistic curve.
For francophiles Fantômas is probably a can’t miss, and while it’s perhaps less on target for readers used to structure and action from books written post-1970, it’s certainly atmospheric as hell. Successful too—the book sold mountains and Fantômas became a franchise character. We’re sorry to give away that he survives this novel, but it isn’t as if you have a choice about finding that out, considering this book is referred to in numerous places as Fantômas #1. We wouldn’t quite label him #1, but he’s pretty fun.
It's a yellow banana occasion—no exceptions, no excuses.
This brilliant photo features the famed French burlesque dancer who billed herself as Maria Tuxedo. She appeared onstage at Le Crazy Horse cabaret, and this image was made there probably around 1968. We think it’s amazing. There are other frames from this session, which was shot by Giancarlo Botti, and some of those are even in realistic color, but we like this desaturated look best.
Those of you in the know concerning burlesque have noticed that Tuxedo is channeling Josephine Baker. Baker may or may not have been the first to wear a skirt of bananas, but she undoubtedly was the one who made the lookiconic. Ironically, the most famous photos of Baker in this modedon’t feature her with real bananas, but rather costuming constructed to resemble them. The shots of her with actual bananas—such as the one you see here—are less famous.
But the gimmick was indeed made into something lasting by Baker, and Tuxedo was definitely paying tribute when she wore her ungainly accoutrement. Yet she managed to make it look effortless, which shows yet again that, while beautiful women graced all niches of show business, burlesque dancers were special, aesthetically and athletically. We don’t think they get enough credit for being some of the most inspiring figures of the mid-century era. But we always do our best to promote them, particularly in the jawdropping examples we’ve shared here, here, here, and here.
This is the rarest of the rare. We’ve shown you many movie posters foreign to the country in which the original film was made. The most common amongst those have been French, Italian, and Japanese posters for American films. We’ve also seen a few U.S. and British posters for Japanese films. But we’ve never seen a French poster for a Japanese film, and that’s what you have here. And it isn’t just any film. It’s for the iconic 1973 Miki Sugimoto pinku actioner Sukeban–Kankain Dasso, known in English as Girl Boss: Escape from Reform School, and titled here Girl Boss – Les Étudiantes en cavale. That would translate: “girl boss – students on the run.”
This was painted using the original Japanese poster as inspiration by Constantin Belinsky, a talent we’ve discussed a couple of times before. He was born in Bratslav, Ukraine, learned his craft in art school in Chișinău, which was then in Romania but is now in Moldova, and worked professionally in Paris. He painted posters for classic dramas like Laura and Pickup on South Street, but later in his career specialized in genre films such as Creature from the Black Lagoon. He was born in 1904, so we suspect this poster was among his last pieces. But it won’t be his last on Pulp Intl. We have more to show you later.
U.S. Adam goes in search of adult entertainment after dark.
We’re taking a break from the Australian Adam magazine to remind everyone that the unrelated U.S. men’s magazine Adam was also filled with colorful art, fun fiction, weird facts, and beautiful models—in this case Danish pin-up and centerfold Elsa Sorensen, aka Dane Arden, who you see on the cover. We still think the down under Adam is the best, but northern Adam is always worth a look, and this issue published in 1960 is a representative example. Actually, there were two northern Adams. There was a French magazine of that name too, unrelated to the others. We’ve been meaning to locate one to buy online, but the price hasn’t been right yet.
Anyway, this issue of Adam contains the usual fiction and humor, plus features on strip clubs in Paris, Tokyo, and Long Beach, a profile on New Orleans torture mistress Madame Delphine Lelaurie, and other pleasures of the evening. It also highlights the “dirtiest book ever written”—supposedly Il Commandante di Pompeii, which we suppose can keep you company on lonely nights if you don’t get to Paris, Tokyo, or Long Beach. We have many scans below, and other issues of U.S. Adam you can find here, here, here, and here. And if you’re interested in the Aussie Adam we have scans from almost seventy issues in the website, and you can see them by starting here.
American actress Elizabeth Taylor, whose career began at age 12 when she starred in National Velvet, and who would eventually be nominated for five Academy Awards as best actress and win for Butterfield 8 and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, dies of congestive heart failure in Los Angeles. During her life she had been hospitalized more than 70 times.
1963—Profumo Denies Affair
In England, the Secretary of State for War, John Profumo, denies any impropriety with showgirl Christine Keeler and threatens to sue anyone repeating the allegations. The accusations involve not just infidelity, but the possibility acquaintances of Keeler might be trying to ply Profumo for nuclear secrets. In June, Profumo finally resigns from the government after confessing his sexual involvement with Keeler and admitting he lied to parliament.
1978—Karl Wallenda Falls to His Death
World famous German daredevil and high-wire walker Karl Wallenda, founder of the acrobatic troupe The Flying Wallendas, falls to his death attempting to walk on a cable strung between the two towers of the Condado Plaza Hotel in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Wallenda is seventy-three years old at the time, but it is a 30 mph wind, rather than age, that is generally blamed for sending him from the wire.
2006—Swedish Spy Stig Wennerstrom Dies
Swedish air force colonel Stig Wennerström, who had been convicted in the 1970s of passing Swedish, U.S. and NATO secrets to the Soviet Union over the course of fifteen years, dies in an old age home at the age of ninety-nine. The Wennerström affair, as some called it, was at the time one of the biggest scandals of the Cold War.
1963—Alcatraz Closes
The federal penitentiary located on Alcatraz Island in San Francisco Bay closes. The island had been home to a lighthouse, a military fortification, and a military prison over the years. In 1972, it would become a national recreation area open to tourists, and it would receive national landmark designations in 1976 and 1986.
1916—Einstein Publishes General Relativity
German-born theoretical physicist Albert Einstein publishes his general theory of relativity. Among the effects of the theory are phenomena such as the curvature of space-time, the bending of rays of light in gravitational fields, faster than light universe expansion, and the warping of space time around a rotating body.
