Tour: Fritz Leiber on Sunday October 28

I’m running late, White Rabbit-style, so let’s make this post all business and even skip the illos — if you want to see lots of cool shots of Fritz, hop over to Will Hart’s Flickr archive, especially nice for the annotated pics of Fritz in old Hollywood movies. (Will’s name last popped up on this site c/o his E. Hoffmann Price archive, also worth checking out.)

Anyway, this coming Sunday October 28, we will meet for the Fritz Leiber Tour at 1p.m. on the corner of Shannon alley and Geary — north side of the street, approximately at 550 Geary, adjacent to the parking lot (and between Taylor and Jones).

Bring ten bucks for the tour — also bring either a MUNI pass or change for the bus, since we’ll be recreating the movements of hero Franz Westen from the novel of supernatural dread Our Lady of Darkness, and will have to hop across town to get to Corona Heights where the ashes of the sorceror Thibaut de Castries were buried by Dashiell Hammett, Clark Ashton Smith, and a couple of other guys (yeah, it’s a good book).

If you have any trouble walking at all, my honest advise is to skip this one — we go up and over Corona Heights (as essential a site for the Leiber Tour as Burritt alley is for the Hammett walks), and while it’s not Mount Everest, I wouldn’t say it is easy. But the view from the hill is great.

I figure this tour will last at least four hours, maybe more, so if interested, allow enough time to take it in.

And if you miss this one, I  may do another one in a few years, assuming by that time I am capable of clambering up and over Corona Heights. I was thinking the last one I did, four or five years back, was the last — but never say never.

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Hollywood Beat: The Tully Talk

On Sunday the 14th I got up in Denver at the crack-of-dawn (and anyone who knows me can tell you I hate the crack-of-dawn) and began punching the machine toward LA for the talk about Jim Tully in Musso & Frank, 6 p.m. on Monday. Ultimately, the worst part of that trip was going crosstown from near the Howard Hughes Center to Hollywood Blvd through the typical stopped and stopped again LA rush hour traffic. . . .

A trip of a thousand miles repeatedly ground to a halt, and we rolled up just as the talk began to get underway.

Somewhere in Utah or Nevada I got a call from my LA pal Leo Grin telling me that the talk had been moved from M&F just across the street to the Larry Edmunds Bookshop — the last bookshop standing of a one-time legion of bookstores in that stretch of road.

Apparently ticket sales had been too slow to justify opening M&F specifically for the salon (otherwise, M&F is closed on Mondays). I’m unsure of whether we can blame a lack of interest in Tully on this, or if the previous Tully talks that week took away some of the interest — or if the ongoing salon itself is going to have trouble keeping the momentum going. I’ve done such things in the past, notably the Maltese Falcon Society, and after the initial burst of publicity and interest, it’s hard to keep any kind of regular event going, especially in a venue such as M&F.

I wish them luck, and kind of wish I’d gotten down to LA for an earlier event actually in M&F.

Still, mostly I was there for Tully and to meet the Tully biographers. I agree with Mark that one way to finally kick Tully into prominence would be to get the still unpublished biography he wrote of Charlie Chaplin into print — that ball is in UCLA’s court, and it’s probably only a matter of time. A bio of Chaplin from someone who knew him as well as anyone ever did. Who could deny the importance?

And Mark also teased the audience by asking which guy in Tully’s loose crew of associates took the longest to grasp fame in his mitts? Lon Chaney Sr., Erich von Stroheim??? I knew the answer and pointed over Mark’s shoulder to the huge poster of Boris Karloff as Frankenstein hanging off the ceiling (hey, it is October, folks). In the photo above you can see the name of director James Whale visible near the bottom of the poster. But check out the back wall — I didn’t notice this at the time — where Boris also appears in a poster for The Mummy.

For my tastes, I’d rather have a book by Tully on Karloff and Chaney than the Chaplin deal, but then we have to take what we can get.

One very nice piece of ephemera given out after the talk deserves a blurb. Bookseller Howard Prouty put together a beautiful little chapbook titled The Dozen and One: A Field Guide to the Books of Jim Tully. Every actual first edition, with color images of the covers. I was surprised by the page which shows every single paperback by Tully issued in the twentieth century — exactly four items. Two reprints of Circus Parade and two reprints of The Bruiser. Whether he kicks into overdrive or not, Tully is doing a lot better in this century than he has since his death in 1947, even if he can’t sell out a dinner in M&F.

Oh, yeah: Prouty notes that his chapbook celebrates the centennial of Tully first moving to LA in 1912. I do admire the people who can keep up with these one-hundred year anniversaries.

And of course I got my copy of the Tully biography signed, and signed off on a copy of Willeford — the Tully boys came that close to having their bio also appear from Dennis McMillan, and more on that later.

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Tour: Fritz Leiber!

 Okay, before I head out the door on another trip, yes, I am planning a Fritz Leiber Tour for Sunday October 28th — details to follow.

I figure it won’t begin any earlier than noon, no later than 3 p.m. It will go for four hours or as long as it takes — the Fritz Tour isn’t a science like the Hammett walks.

It isn’t a science because I almost never do Fritz Tours any more. It’s been years since I offered one. And I’m only doing this one because an enthusiastic Fritz fan came out on the last Hammett walk last month and really wanted to do it.

Why not? Fritz deserves the effort, and it’ll be a great excuse to do yet another reread on his novel of supernatural horror set in San Francisco, Our Lady of Darkness. And just in time for Halloween.

I knew Fritz pretty well in the era he was working on that book, know some of the people his characters are modeled on — when I tell you about the deep and possibly arcane chuckle emitted when ordering the bunny pastries, or the stuff that was stolen from storage in the Family Sunshine house, some of which later showed up with Fritz’s inscriptions to his wife erased out (by some idiot), hey, it’s info I have yet to put in any kind of memoir.

(Another factor that makes me inclined to do a Fritz Tour once more is that I just finished yet another proofing of John Haefele’s upcoming book on H. P. Lovecraft and August Derleth and the Cthulhu Mythos — great book, but like hell to proof — where Fritz gets mentioned many, many times for his early role in Lovecraft Studies. Really put me in the mood for the eldritch and unspeakable. . . .) 

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Rediscovered: A Rolling Freight Train of Jim Tully Events

Whoa. Falling behind again, as I get ready for another trip, that will wind its way to Denver and ultimately bring me back around to LA in time to hear the Jim Tully talk in Musso & Frank on the 15th. I’ve got my tix for that one, as long as I don’t get a flat tire somewhere along the road. . . .

And Mark Dawidziak let me know that he and his co-Tully biographer Paul J. Bauer will be doing more than just the salon in M&F, including an earlier talk at UCLA and even a tour of Tully sites along Hollywood Blvd — check here for the full schedule.

Also, the folk at UCLA tell me that a major exhibit of Tully materials from their holdings will be on view through mid-December in the library’s Special Collections department, if you want to see a sampling of what they’ve got on hand.

If Mark and Paul can’t kick Tully into major rediscovery mode with their tireless activity, I don’t know what will.

I’m actively indulging my personal interest in Tully on the side. The photo above shows the train trestle in St. Marys, Ohio where Tully had his talk with the one-eyed kid he chronicles in the novel Beggars of Life, before heading out to ride the rails as a young hobo — one of many spots I took in during a stop following PulpFest in August.

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Two-Gun Bob: First, You Crack Argosy

When the article “Conan the Argonaut” appeared in The Cimmerian in 2008, one of the inset quotes, selected to illustrate the mindset that essay argues against, came from Lin Carter in his 1973 book on fantasy literature, Imaginary Worlds, where he writes that Robert E. Howard

secretly yearned to write yarns of magic and mystery in Tibet or stories about keen-eyed British espionage agents in India in the vein of Talbot Mundy, or swashbuckling pirate sagas like Rafael Sabatini, or the kind of romantic adventure fiction Edgar Rice Burroughs and Harold Lamb produced.

But Howard’s rather slapdash, derivative talents could not compete for the major pulps like Argosy or All-Story against writers like these. . .  so he settled for Weird Tales.

For Lin Carter to call any other writer “slapdash and derivative” still amazes me. Jeez, talk about projection. . . .

(For those not in the know, the very first review I ever published appeared in the now legendary magazine Nyctalops from Harry Morris — issue 9 released in 1974 — in which I jumped up and down on Imaginary Worlds. Between that book and the horrible Conan stories Carter was writing with L. Sprague de Camp — which I soon took on in “Conan vs. Conantics” — I couldn’t keep my outrage quiet any longer, one thing led to another, and here I am today.)

Imaginary Worlds certainly put into print many of the commonly held ideas about REH of that era, some of which linger today. He wasn’t good enough for a major pulp market like Argosy, so he only tried to write for Weird Tales. He would never have been able to get books published, certainly not fantasy, and never Conan. Plus numerous other goofball ideas, all of which are wrong.

Howard had been trying to crack the pages of Argosy from his first attempts at writing as a teenager, and broke through once in 1929. Not long before his suicide in 1936, an editor who had used Howard’s fiction regularly in Action Stories took the helm of Argosy, and brought Howard with him — the Texan sold several stories in a row, that appeared posthumously, and obviously would have kept going but for his death. He wrote his solo Conan novel not for Weird Tales but for book publication by a British firm.

I’ve heard all the erroneous ideas for decades now, hence the reason for writing “Conan the Argonaut.”

But I admit that I was surprised to get a really out-of-touch-with-the-facts gambit tossed at me during PulpFest this year. Some of us Howard guys were hanging out in the bar, and I was talking about REH moving Conan from Weird Tales over to Argosy, and getting a book out, when one longtime Howard fan (I won’t mention his name, to avoid embarrassment, but he thinks he’s good in debates) said, “But no publishers were releasing books of fantasy at that time.”

I looked at him and said, “Two words: Abraham Merritt. End of that argument.”

A. Merritt saw many fantasy novels, much like what Howard was writing — The Ship of Ishtar, to name one — appear in book form. He was one of the most popular fantastic writers for half a century, at least, ranked alongside Edgar Rice Burroughs, but that regard began to slip by the late 1960s. Some of his titles remain in print, but his once lofty status is gone — he’s just another pulp writer who had his day.

Brian Leno remembered that incredibly brief debate and sent me a note, saying, “Today I received the first hardcover edition of Otis Adelbert Kline’s Call of the Savage and the former owner had a 1933 clipping from Argosy inside, and I found it interesting because of the conversation at PulpFest. ____ was wondering if Howard would have seen book publication because REH’s type of fiction wasn’t being put into hardcover. You blew him out of the water when you mentioned A. Merritt, and of course there were others. Kline, Ray Cummings, George Allan England, and so on.

“Anyway,” Brian continues, “the clipping announces that Kline’s Jan of the Jungle is the 292nd novel from Argosy to appear in book form. A lot of those novels probably were nothing Howard would ever have written, but I’m willing to bet that a good hunk of them were fantasy, science-fiction, whatever. Howard would have been right at home.”

Otis Adelbert Kline was another prolific pulp writer, known for closely imitating Edgar Rice Burroughs — Jan of the Jungle is a Tarzan knockoff, The Swordsman of Mars apes John Carter of Mars. Kline also had a side business as an agent, where he picked up REH as a client by 1934. He sold what became Howard’s first book, A Gent from Bear Creek, in 1936 and it appeared in 1937.

So, for anyone who doesn’t know pulp history or the facts, surrrrrrrre, Howard was a lousy writer who could never have had books come out, who never would have cracked Argosy.

Right.

But in Real Life where some of us live, it is 2012 and Howard is now a standard (whereas Talbot Mundy and Harold Lamb have faded, and are largely of interest because they influenced Howard). Yeah, Burroughs remains a legend — but Howard is close on his heels.

PulpFest celebrated the hundred year anniversaries of both Tarzan and John Carter — and Year Eighty for Conan. Trailing by twenty years, I do believe Robert E. Howard is catching up.

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Frisco Beat: The Mystery of the Missing Logo

Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to mention something I noticed toward the beginning of the September tours:

They’ve had the Spade and Archer logo removed from the window of the Hotel Union Square, but so far haven’t had it replaced with Samuel Spade or something else (which would be cool, do that every month or two, in memoriam poor Miles Archer getting bumped off in Burritt alley).

You can catch an inside glimpse of the logo in this post about the so-called Dashiell Hammett suite — and apparently the suite itself is still in action. Jo Hammett, in town for the charity deal involving the Maltese Eagle née Golden Eagle, told me that she heard from the hotel staff that a couple from Australia tried to book the Hammett suite for that weekend, only to be told that Hammett’s granddaughter had it occupied those days. The Ozzies were suitably impressed.

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Tour: Blurbed by KQED

With only one more walk this month — Sunday September 30 — that’s open to anyone who shows up clutching a tenspot, the Hammett Tour gets a blurb in a roundup of local tours from KQED.

If you miss that one, keep your eye on the Current Walks Page and try again later.

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Tour: Living Near Hammett

One of the walkers who showed up on September 16 and got in on The Maltese Eagle Caper was a guy named Michael — e-yclept Mjsoltys — who e’ed in advance to check about the date and mentioned:

“I lived at the corner of Pacific and Gough from 1991-1998 and never knew about this tour, and this will be my first time back since I moved to Charleston, SC. I am a big Hammett fan (‘Tulip’ aside), though unfortunately I can find no evidence he ever visited anywhere in SC.

“I did once stay in a posh gated resort near Key Largo called the Angler’s Club (note mention of the ‘Dashiell Hammett cottage’) which I like to imagine might have been near the Florida hideaway where he and Lillian Hellman allegedly worked on The Children’s Hour in ’33-34. I also lived for a year in Westport, CT near Tavern Island where the two supposedly spent time, as well as spent my teen years in Chappaqua, NY a stone’s throw from Hardscrabble Farm in Pleasantville.”

Michael has been shadowing Hammett around for awhile, and enjoying the experience.

I am a big fan of the Florida Keys — if you ever get to Key Largo, try to get out to John Pennekamp State Park, completely underwater, and if you get that far into the chain of islands, you may as well keep plunging south until you’re in Key West (where Hammett once rode out a hurricane, H.P. Lovecraft prowled around, Hemingway and Tennessee Williams had homes).

Which reminds me, someone else on a recent walk mentioned that Key Largo is launching a Bogart Film Festival next year with a lineup of noir movies and a guest appearance by Stephen Bogart, son of Bogie and Bacall.

Sounds like a great excuse to hit the Keys and chow down on Key lime pie.

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Tour: The Maltese Eagle Caper

When I say that the usual Sunday Hammett Tour takes four hours, trust me, I’m not kidding. Four solid hours with one brief break in the middle, and if people ask a lot of questions, make that four hours and ten minutes, four hours and twenty. . . .

As a courtesy for people who reserve a tour by appointment, I do offer shorter versions — three hours, two hours, and if we leave out the Sam Spade building, I can get it down to one hour for those who want the quickest hike possible yet still see most of the sites related to The Maltese Falcon.

Point being, I can speed it up if needed, but to get the most sites and info, yeah, four hours is what it takes. Which means the tour starts at noon and ends up in front of John’s Grill, next to the rear doors of the James Flood Building where Hammett worked for Pinkerton’s, about 4:10, 4:25.

For the walk on Sunday September 16, I had to put on some speed. As the tour was starting off Ron Shore came on scene and told us that the Maltese Eagle would be on view in John’s until 4:00, and he wanted us to see it. The closest dingus to a real Maltese Falcon that’s around these days.

Originally called the Golden Eagle, Ron had brought it to San Francisco for a charity benefit where Hammett’s daughter Jo Marshall would give the okay to call it the Maltese Eagle.

I asked the eighteen people who showed up if they wanted to make a dash for it. They weren’t adverse to seeing six million or so spinning around in its protective case, and the game was afoot.

I got them there by 3:30, by cutting out the typical stop for drinks in The Ha-Ra with Jerry the Bartender. Lopped off 811 Geary and Fritz Leiber completely — sorry, Fritz. Trimmed some bits of information and verbal flourishes. I believe I even left out my usual tributes to Dwight Frye and Wyatt Earp!

I think it was worth it. The gem-laden statuette was only in town for the weekend. Plus we got the history of the eagle from Ron himself, with asides on his treasure hunting activities — if you’re curious, you can get the book and also track down thousands of articles through the wilds of the Internet jungle.

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Tour: Two More to Go

Fall is almost on us, with winter rain hard on its heels.

Yeah, I’ve got some tours by appointment coming up, even a couple slated for December (a month when the snapbrim and trenchcoat can come in real handy) — but if you just want to do one of the walks where you show up with ten bucks, no appointment needed, and join in, you’d better jump on the next couple of Sundays in September.

After those, I don’t see much happening without an appointment until sometime next year, when the noir rains back off.

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