vintage and modern pulp fiction; noir, schlock and exploitation films; scandals, swindles and news
Above: A paticualrly nice Franco Picchioni cover for Per piacere, non toccate le signore!, written by Mark Wheeler for Edizioni MA-GA and published in 1965 as part of its Il Cerchio Rosso collection. The title means, “please don’t touch the ladies.” You can get more peeks at Picchioni by clicking his keywords below.
Italian illustrator Franco Picchioni conceived a balletic cover pose for John J. Everett’s Assi allo sbaraglio. If we tried this position everything we have would split down the middle, up to and including our pride. The title of the book translates to “aces in disarray,” so we’d be suffering from asses in disarray. But speaking of stretched to the limit, let’s stop with this strain of thought before it wears out completely. John J. Everett was a pseudonym, of course, but we don’t know for whom, and his novel is part of Edizioni MA-GA’s Il Cerchio Rosso collection, though we can’t pinpoint the year. Nothing is working for us today, but we’ll bend over backwards trying to find more info.
Seems like time for another cover from Italian illustrator Franco Picchioni, so here’s his always excellent work on Patrick McRoy’s Violenza in nero, from 1966 for publishers Edizioni MA-GA as part of its Il Cerchio Rosso collection. Haven’t we seen this pose from Picchioni before? Well, never mess with success. He even painted the same undergarment (a strapless teddy, we think). McRoy is an obvious pseudonym but we can’t track down his real name. Anyone with knowledge, feel free to enlighten us. And not just about books. We’re mixed up on a lot of stuff these days.
We’ve circled back to Italian illustrator Franco Picchioni again because we love his style, and he delivers once more on this cover for Requiem per un giornalista. Obviously, “giornalista” is Italian for “journalist,” so feel free insert your own quips about the press at this point. The book was written by Obvious Pseudonym, and it’s copyright 1970 for Edizione MA-GA, a company that took cover art seriously after many other publishers had thrown in the towel. This is nice work from Picchioni. We also found a cleaner piece of the art. It isn’t that different, except you get to see the always neglected Rat no. 3, who was covered by text on the final version. You can see more from Picchioni by clicking his keywords below.
Franco Picchioni’s hits keep coming. Above is another cover from the respected Italian artist, this time for Georges H. Boskero’s Il genio del male, number twenty-two in the crime series Il Cerchio Rosso from Edizioni MA-GA, 1965. The title translates to “evil genius.” In terms of Picchioni, we’ll certainly go with genius. See more from him starting at this link.
Above: Raymond Connoleer’s set-in-Mexico 1965 crime novel Morte d’un idolo, which was published by Edizioni MA-GA’s series Federal Bureau of Investigation Stories. Connoleer is a pseudonym but we couldn’t dig up his real name. Lot of that going around lately. The unusual cover is uncredited, but it’s Franco Picchioni for sure, yet another great illustration from a unique talent. See a few of his best here, here, and here.
Italian publishers Edizioni MA-GA strike again with another cover image by Franco Picchioni, this time for Jeff Kristopher’s 1965 thriller 10 Lettere d’Amore. Kristopher is of course a pseudonym but we aren’t able to discern for whom. We may have luck with that later, though. In any case, this is a cool image, and odd too, the way the fashionable femme fatale doesn’t match her reflection. In the mirror she’s leaning her head much farther to her right. We like that touch. But then we like everything Picchioni does.
We meant to get right back to Italian illustrator Franco Picchioni, but in typical fashion it’s taken us a few years. But today you see another of his nice creations, this time for Georges H. Boskero’s Le Veneri ardenti, which translates to The Fiery Venus. It was published in 1966 by Edizioni MA-GA for its Il Cerchio Rosso series, a series of thrillers that featured some of the best Italian cover art of the period. We’ll show you some of those in a bit and at the same time revisit Franco’s art. In the meantime, check out what he did with a James Bond cover here.
Above is an epic Italian poster for the film The Seven Year Itch, which in Italy was called Quando la moglie è in vacanza, or “when the wife is on vacation.” They probably changed the title because Italians don’t understand the concept of a seven year itch. They have a seven week itch—it happens about seven weeks before the wedding. The art here is by P. Franco, aka Franco Picchioni, whose work you can find more of by clicking his keywords below. There’s also a very interesting West German poster for the film here.
The Soviet space probe Luna 3 transmits the first photographs of the far side of the moon. The photos generate great interest, and scientists are surprised to see mountainous terrain, very different from the near side, and only two seas, which the Soviets name Mare Moscovrae (Sea of Moscow) and Mare Desiderii (Sea of Desire).
LSD, which was originally synthesized by a Swiss doctor and was later secretly used by the CIA on military personnel, prostitutes, the mentally ill, and members of the general public in a project code named MKULTRA, is designated a controlled substance in the United States.
A six month strike by Hollywood set decorators becomes a riot at the gates of Warner Brothers Studios when strikers and replacement workers clash. The event helps bring about the passage of the Taft-Hartley Act, which, among other things, prohibits unions from contributing to political campaigns and requires union leaders to affirm they are not supporters of the Communist Party.
The Soviet Union launches the satellite Sputnik I, which becomes the first artificial object to orbit the Earth. It orbits for two months and provides valuable information about the density of the upper atmosphere. It also panics the United States into a space race that eventually culminates in the U.S. moon landing.
American blues singer Janis Joplin is found dead on the floor of her motel room in Los Angeles. The cause of death is determined to be an overdose of heroin, possibly combined with the effects of alcohol.
