Walter Stackpool’s Larry Kents

its hell my lovely larry kent 1960

England had Reginald Heade, Australia had Walter Stackpool.

Australian artist and illustrator Walter Stackpool (1916 – 1999) grew up in Queensland and, armed with a scholarship, set off to study art at the Queensland Art School in 1939. But he never finished the course, signing up for the army instead once WWII broke out. After the war, he quickly found work as a sought-after illustrator for book covers, well known for his many, many westerns done for Cleveland Publishing Company, as well as the Invincible Mysteries series in the early 1950’s, and especially the popular Larry Kent series from the mid-1950’s clear through the 70’s. More about that hard-boiled P.I series soon, which ran about 400 titles!

homicide sweet homicide larry kent 1959

A diverse talent, Stackpool was also a popular children’s book illustrator, and later in his career, a respected wildlife artist. Here are three paintings which I believe are all from the Larry Kent “I Hate Crime” paperback originals series, including “It’s Hell, My Lovely” from 1960 (at the top), “Homicide, Sweet Homicide” from 1959 above, and “The Pushover” from 1963 below.

the pushover larry kent 1963

 

Night Watch

Night Watch

David C. Taylor’s Night Watch, his third Michael Cassidy NYPD Detective novel, is just out, not on shelf yet that I’ve seen, but ready to order online. Apparently this third novel is actually set in between his first, Night Life, and his second, Night Work, each book set in mid-1950’s New York (with some forays elsewhere).

Night Life

The Michael Cassidy novels are dark, gritty hard-boiled crime fiction at its best, yet with a very readable, literary flair. Detective Cassidy navigates New York’s mean streets and upper crust with equal ease, thanks in part to his Broadway producer father. Similarly, he finds himself grappling with a cop’s normal cases, but they manage to drag him into much bigger things, bumping against the FBI, CIA and more than mere murder. Night Life was a library find for me. I devoured it, and kept my eyes open for Night Work, which was as good or better, so I’m eagerly looking forward to Night Watch. Taylor needs to get a web-savvy pal to freshen up his website (davidctaylorauthor.com), because I’m betting there’ll be readers looking to learn more pretty soon!

Night Work

david c taylor author dot com

Criminal #6: Can’t Wait

Criminal 6

I just picked up Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillip’s Criminal #4 this past weekend, and now I see that the cover for Criminal #6 just appeared at Sean Phillips’ site on Monday morning – theartofseanphillips.blogspot.uk. Not due out till mid-July…but I’ll be waiting.

L.A. Noire: The Collected Stories

L.A. Noire 7 - Book

From game to book: Rockstar Games’ popular L.A. Noire game adapted to an anthology: L.A. Noire – The Collected Stories, from Mulholland Books, with 8 hard-boiled/noir-ish tales from some real heavy hitters: Megan Abbott, Lawrence Block, Joe Lansdale, Joyce Carol Oates, Francine Prose, Johnathan Santlofer, Duane Swierczynski and Andrew Vachss.

No Hoods Left In The Hood?

Noir Gentrification

Background research on settings? Search engines can only yield so much, and eventually you just have hop on a bus or get in the car, ready to pound the pavement if you really want to get the look and feel of a place for whatever it is you’re writing about. Obviously that’s a problem if you live in Newark and your project’s set in Novgorod. But if it’s just another neighborhood in your home town, you’re good to go. For some (me, for example), the trick is accessing a time machine in order to capture not just a place, but a place-in-time.

Adam Abramowitz, the Boston writer of A Town Called Malice and Bosstown, had a terrific piece in the March 19th CrimeReads (link below), “Noir In The Era Of Gentrification: What Happens To Spenser & Scudder When Their Cities Are Gone?” He opens by recalling childhood trips to neighborhoods that were ripe with danger and which later became settings for his writing. But in the ensuing years, those blocks once lined with strip joints, gin joints and sundry other joints populated by lethal predators were gentrified building-by-building into rehabbed lofts and pricey rebuilds, the strip joint now a Starbucks, the gin joint a trendy bistro, and the only predators still lurking about are snooty sales clerks in fancy boutiques.

“Big city noir is under siege,” he writes. “As a noir reader, I become as attached to a city as to the main character working those pitiless streets…(Gentrification) threatens to render our stories sentimental and nostalgic until we all sound like a lamenting grandparent: Back in the bad old days.” Abramowitz refers mostly to New York and Boston, but acknowledges the same for James Lee Burke’s New Orleans and even Chandler’s and MacDonald’s Los Angeles.

Here beside the coast of the ‘inland sea” (the Great Lakes), it’s no different. Endless blocks south and west of Chicago’s Loop seemed destined for permanent skid row status after WWII. Now the South Loop has exploded with residential hi-rises, and west of downtown where independent food service distributors stretched for a mile beneath the Lake Street El and the Fulton Market strip, McDonald’s erected its new headquarters, just over from Google’s Chicago HQ, and suburban corporations are elbowing each other aside, determined to find suitably sized industrial lofts to gut or tear down so they can erect faux-rehabs. The SRO’s and their hoboes, homeless, hookers, pimps, muggers and wino’s have been pushed a couple miles south and west once again, and if the migration continues, eventually they’re going to cross the border into Indiana or be halted at the Mississippi.

Brighton-Archer

My own work is set in a very particular time and place, and while that place has changed considerably, it definitely hasn’t been gentrified. 1959 landmarks like the sprawling Miami Bowl 24/7 100-lane bowling complex or the once-luxurious Brighton Theater are long gone, along with countless Mom & Pop storefront bakeries, bars, hardware stores, dress shops, jewelers and deli’s (and all of the loan sharks, card games and B-girls that worked their back rooms). Some are no-brand phone stores and vaping shops now, others just vacant. The discreet Mowimy Popolsku signs in their doors have been replaced by a different language, perhaps, but I’m sure there’s no shortage of punks, thugs and crooks around. They’re just busy spray-painting their colors on garage walls before they get down to business these days. Now the word is that retiring Yuppies and monied Millenials from landlocked Chinatown are buying up two flats as investment properties. Not exactly gentrification, but enough change to make it hard to recognize anything from the old B&W photos sourced online.

Still, there’s no substitution for actually walking the main streets, side streets and even the alleys (which were only paved with cinders from the nearby ComEd plant back in the era I’m writing in). The sights, sounds and smells are all a little different from what my characters experienced in 1959, I suppose. But as Adam Abramowitz writes in his CrimeReads essay, “Don’t cry, noir lovers. Change is cyclical and as long as the slums of the heart keep burning, there’s always going to be material to mine.”

https://crimereads.com/noir-in-the-era-of-gentrification/

Not The Best, Only The Better

Spicy Detective Stories

Spicy Detective Stories is a used bookstore find, a 1989 Malibu Graphics trade paperback reprinting six stories and a Sally The Sleuth strip from various 1935 – 1937 issues of the iconic pulp magazine of the same name, all re-typeset, but including the original interior B&W illustrations. It leads off with a Robert Leslie Bellem Dan Turner – Hollywood Detective story, “Temporary Corpse”, the dialog and period slang a real treat. Not Bellem’s best, perhaps, but still fun. In fact, the book’s Tom Mason foreword notes, “This collection of Spicy Detective Stories is not intended to be a ‘best of’ collection. It’s more like a ‘better of’, a sampling, as close to a better-than-average issue of the real thing”.

Uhm…well, if they say so.

Strangely, the book doesn’t use a piece of cover art from the era…something by H. J. Ward or Norm Saunders would seem in order. Instead, there’s an original contemporary illustration by “Madman” (don’t know who that really is) which is nice, though looking like a better fit for a Spicy Mystery or Spicy Adventure pulp reprint than Spicy Detective. The book closes with a short 13-panel 1937 Sally The Sleuth strip, “Matinee Murder”, where Adolphe Barreaux’ sassy snoop finds herself (no surprise) in jeopardy, but being tied up in lacy lingerie never stopped Sally from landing a well-placed kick to the snoot of any villain, and then solving the crime. All in a dozen-plus panels, mind you.

I don’t know if this was a stand-alone book or part of a Malibu Graphics series. I’ve noted before that I don’t collect pricey pulp magazine originals, but I do have some Adventure House trade paperback reprints, those being complete single issues using the original typesetting, capturing all the original art and even the hilarious ads, right down to the classifieds. They’re not “best of’s” or even “better of’s”, but a pretty affordable way to understand the 1930’s – 40’s pulp era in all its tawdry glory. I’ll profile some of those here soon…promise.

Eight (Not ‘8’) Million Ways To Die

Eight Million Ways To Die

You’ll hear it said by novelists time and again, whether from relative unknowns or the frequent bestseller list residents: When the rights are sold to Hollywood for a project, just cash the check and forget about it.

Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Lawrence Block knows that all too well, and can point to the 1986 film adaptation of his 1982 hard-boiled Matthew Scudder detective series novel Eight Million Ways To Die as a prime example, right down to the film’s inexplicable title change to “8 Million Ways To Die”, as if audiences needed the numeral instead of the word for some strange reason. There are understandable pragmatic reasons studios modify novels for the big screen, length and location costs the most common. Sometimes it’s merely a screenwriter’s or director’s whim or conceit. And sometimes it’s just who-the-hell-knows-why?

Now, to be clear: Unlike many, I don’t hate the Hal Ashby 1986 film starring Jeff Bridges, Rosanna Arquette and a young Andy Garcia in his first leading role. It garnered some pretty bad reviews and wasn’t a box office success, though not for lack of trying with then-popular stars, a script by no less than Oliver Stone and Robert Towne, some thrilling sequences and no shortage of retro-eighties style sexy violence, sexy voyeurism…and just sex. I’ll admit that I’ve always like Bridges’ many brooding and cynical performances, and happen to consider Arquette one of the 1980’s – 1990’s under-rated talents. But the minute you see palm trees and the sun-drenched Pacific beaches on the screen, you have to wonder what the hell the studio was thinking.

John K Snyder III Matthew Scudder

Lawrence Block’s Eight Million Ways To Die, the 5th Matthew Scudder novel, takes its title from the Oscar winning 1948 film noir The Naked City and the 1958 – 1963 ABC television series of the same name, it’s concluding narration one of the mystery/noir genre’s many memorable lines: “There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them.”

Eight Million ways To Die MontageNo one would ever accuse prolific writer Lawrence Block of being lazy. Since pounding out paperback originals in the 1950’s under various pen names, he’s earned shelves full of awards and launched multiple series, the Matthew Scudder hard-boiled detective series nearing twenty novels as of 2019. The Scudder books are New York books, and Eight Million Ways To Die is 1980’s New York in every way. Just as we stereotype the 50’s as bobby sox and poodle skirts, the 60’s with either mods or flower children and the 70’s with John Travolta in a white polyester suit on a lighted dance floor, we tend to see the 80’s through a filter of VHS taped clichés from teen sex comedies and neon lit erotic thrillers, all dressed up in fuchsia spandex and over-moussed mall hair. But Block’s novel is the real New York of the 1980’s…Ed Koch’s New York, teeming with Wall Street white-collar embezzlers and pimps and dealers working the streets beneath the elevated tracks. It’s dark, wet, grimy, dirty and dangerous. And it’s a hell of a place for a struggling alcoholic with a gun and no P.I.’s license.

John K Snyder III Eight Million Ways To Die 2

Hollywood took Block’s novel and didn’t even bother keep the name intact, much less the plot or setting. But John K. Snyder III honored this book in one of the most impressive graphic novel’s I’ve ever read, rivaling the very best of Ed Brubaker’s and Sean Phillips’ work, and for me that’s saying a lot.

Eight Million Ways To Die - Noir City Article

The IDW Publishing 140 page+ hardcover is a work of art from front to back, sticking painstakingly close to Block’s novel, lifting text and dialog direct from the book, and rendering it all in an utterly sumptuous painterly style that’s incredibly moody and relentlessly dark, like the source material itself. I’d read about this graphic novel at Crime Reads and the Film Noir Foundation’s Noir City e-magazine (screen grabs from its article shown here), couldn’t wait for its release, and wasn’t disappointed. And, in a weird way, I’m pleased as could be for writer Lawrence Block, not that someone of his stature needs this unknown blogger and writer-wannabe’s well wishes. But his iconic P.I. character and one of the series’ very best books finally got its long-overdue treatment. Not in a movie, but in a graphic novel that could serve as a ready-to-shoot storyboard for a properly done film.

John K Snyder III Eight Million Ways To Die

If you’ve read Block’s book, you’ll still enjoy this graphic novel. If you haven’t read the novel and want an intro to Block’s Matthew Scudder character, this is just as good a place to start before you pick up one of the Scudder series books. So, enjoy Block and Snyder’s graphic novel, but still…go get a Matthew Scudder novel too.

The Master At 101 Years

Kiss me Deadly

Shame on me, but I screwed up my post scheduling, so this was meant to appear on Saturday.

A belated birthday acknowledgment to Frank Morrison Spillane, better known as Mickey Spillane, born 101 years ago on March 9th, who sadly left us in 2006. Loved by readers, resented by writers (to this day), reviled by critics, spoofed by himself and many others, the man was actually an instrumental part of building the postwar paperback marketplace. I’ll argue that he played a part in revitalizing — maybe even redefining —  the hard-boiled private eye novel for the second half of the twentieth century, and along the way, sold a mere 225 million books.

Crime Reads Screen Cap

Crime Reads editor Molly Odintz has a very interesting piece at Crimereads.com, “The Ten Best And Pulpiest Mickey Spillane Covers”  – do log on and check it out. The covers shown here aren’t the ones Odintz presents, and some might say her choices aren’t anywhere near as pulpy, weird or downright pervy as some Spillane covers can be. Molly Odintz acknowledges that while commercial success should never be a measure of literary merit, Spillane’s recent centennial and various authors (Max Allan Collins key among them) arguing for a reassessment of the writer’s importance begs for publishers to reissue his work, but in different cover art, “…so that folks like me will actually want to read him in public. Can you imagine bringing one of these on the subway?” But she continues, and this is crucial to understanding Spillane and his work: “But Mickey Spillane didn’t care about what people thought of his cover designs, or the literary merit of his books, and paid no attention to any censorial judgments whatsoever, so perhaps the best way to celebrate the iconic writer’s birthday would indeed be to bring one of these on the subway – and not care what anyone thinks”.

Vengeance Is Mine

Odintz showcases ten Spillane covers she considers particularly weird, pulpy or tawdry. Anyone familiar with postwar pulp magazine and paperback cover art may consider them surprisingly tame. I’ll concede, Spillane’s One Lonely Night was almost always packaged with particularly disturbing cover art of a bound and partially stripped woman. The 1960’s – 70’s era Spillane reissues followed that period’s trend towards photo cover art, and typically employed provocatively posed near-nude women with no relation to the title, story or…well, anything at all, simply beckoning to the reader with ‘come-hither’ expressions. Some European editions of Spillane novels went way beyond anything that would be allowed in the U.S. market. And the fact is, many 1950’s era mystery/crime fiction paperbacks (and certainly the remaining pulps from the same era) can completely out-weird, out-sex, out-perv most any Mickey Spillane cover art, with one after another depicting menacing thugs and lover-boy private eyes threatening or otherwise taking advantage of a gallery of women-as-victims and women-as-eye-candy, invariably undressed or undressing in fetishistic detail, restrained, terrified…or often as not…dead.

One Lonely Night

Do we blame the writers? The publishers, their art directors, the illustrators? Do we blame the culture of the time? Do we blame anyone at all, or do we just recognize that they’re artifacts from another era? Don’t ask me…I’ll have to leave vexing questions like that to smarter folks than I. But I won’t apologize for appreciating Mickey Spillane. I have all of the Mickey Spillane novels, with doubles and triples of a few from different eras, along with the unfinished works completed by Max Allan Collins, some few books about Spillane, the complete Mike Hammer comic strip book and sundry other Spillane items. Call me a fan.

The Body Lovers

While I don’t ride the subway, I fully understand what Molly Odintz is saying, and there are more than a few (maybe most) of my Spillane books that I’m not too eager to whip out in the coffee shop, just so I can watch fellow patrons ease their chairs away from me. But the same goes for other vintage paperbacks I have, and quite a few contemporary books, now that I think of it.

Cheap used bookstore copies of the first few Mike Hammer novels were actually what lured me into the mystery/crime fiction genre in the first place, and for that I’ll be forever grateful. Spillane’s no-nonsense prose and plot-first writing style guides me in my own humble writing attempts, particularly whenever I get ‘writerly’. I don’t know if, like Molly Odintz, I’d like to see Mickey Spillane’s body of work reissued in ‘tamer’ packaging, or just as she speculates, if the hard-boiled crime fiction master’s work indeed should be reissued, but in cover art that celebrates all the violent, sexy, tawdry, pulpy storytelling each book contained.

The Long Wait

 

The Brass Halo

the brass halo jack webb

Around the time of the publication of John D. McDonald’s The Brass Cupcake in 1958, there was a slew of other books with ‘Brass’ in their titles. Coincidence? Publishers scrambling to capitalize on the success of one particular book? Who knows.

Just one of many was Jack Webb’s (no, not the actor/director/producer Jack Webb of Dragnet fame) The Brass Halo, originally published in hardcover in 1957, then in paperback in 1958. Jack Webb (1916-2008), who also worked under the pen name John Farr, wrote 9 Golden-Shanley mysteries between 1952 and 1963 featuring homicide detective Sammy Golden and and unlikely sidekick, kindly Catholic Priest Father Shanley. In this book, the duo team up to solve a less-than-honest private eye’s murder after he’s found knifed in a nightclub torch singer’s dressing room, the chanteuse gone missing.

The Brass Halo

I haven’t read it, and will confess that my interest in the book is less about Webb’s novel and more about Robert Maguire’s cover art, this particular cover illustration among the artist’s best, in my opinion.

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