Rediscovered: Good Farny v. Bad Farny

Coming up for air after a long plunge into the edit on John Haefele’s magnum opus on Lovecraft, I thought of an observation from John Locke that I spotted awhile back.  I guess the coverage of “The Shunned House” in the Algernon Blackwood chapter brought it bubbling up to the surface, too, tentacles flailing.

Weird Tales editor Farnsworth Wright famously, or infamously, rejected “The Shunned House” when HPL submitted it in 1925, but when the 46-year-old Lovecraft suddenly died March 15, 1937, desperately looked around and used one story or at least a poem by HPL in every issue for a year — after rejecting many of his best stories, year after year. “The Shunned House” showed up in the October 1937 issue.

I’ve never formally met Locke, but when I saw this bit I presumed he had to be one hell of a Cup Half Full guy. He mentions “The Shunned House,” and then notes on p.227 of The Things Incredible!:

“Cool Air,” rejected in 1926, appeared in the September 1939 issue. Down to the end, Wright’s last issue (March 1940) reprinted a poem, “The Dweller,” from Lovecraft’s hometown paper, The Providence Journal. Only by being so parsimonious about publishing Lovecraft during his lifetime could Wright have unveiled so much about the author after he died.

Arrrggghhhh!!! I could not disagree more.

Essentially, Lovecraft starved to death — a lousy diet leading to intestinal cancer. From the first HPL was one of the most popular authors in Weird Tales, yet Wright never selected one of his stories as the cover subject of a single issue. The list of stories bounced by Wright that now serve as the titles of Penguin editions might blow your mind.

Jeez.

I’ve done lots of verbiage on this topic, in debates in the letters column of The Cimmerian specifically, and Morgan “The Morgman” Holmes and I got into it more in the essay “Conan the Argonaut.” (I’m contemplating which things to assemble in a LitCrit MegaPack or two, and realize I ought to collect “Argonaut” — much of my writings on Texas author Robert E. Howard are gathered in The Dark Barbarian That Towers Over All, but by no means all. Lots more good stuff left for the old collected essays and reviews.)

Now, if that’s his opinion, Locke is welcome to it. And I’m surprised he mentions something that late in the run of the magazine, since he’s mostly covering the earliest years. If he ever climbs up to circa 1936-37, though, I hope he’ll get into how Wright’s ridiculous idea that pulp readers would be interested in The Farnsworth Wright Shakespeare Library almost foundered the publishing company. One issue, complete bomb. But Robert E. Howard had some Conan stories in inventory to save Weird Tales’ wood pulp butt.

In 1939 Wright kind of “got his” — if you want to think about a comeuppance for years of bad decisions. The company changed ownership, the new deal required Wright — suffering from Parkinson’s disease for years — to move from Chicago to New York City. He moved.

And what was the indelicate term I once used to describe what happened?

Oh, yeah — they soon shitcanned him.

Score one for Lovecraft, I guess.

A sad story, all around.

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Rediscovered: More on Peter Corris

John Hocking adds — in re: his discovery of the Peter Corris detective story where I cameo as “Dan Swan” — “Yeah, I figured there was almost no way you could have missed the story, but the idea that you might be unaware of it was intolerable.”

He tells me he learned about the death of Corris on J. Kingston Pierce’s estimable blog The Rap Sheet. JKP has walked the mean streets on the Hammett Tour.

John says that he “added my own sincere, if hastily composed, eulogy in the comments section.

“Corris was good.  Seems to me that his work had more of the flavor of the better detective fiction writers of the 1950’s (I’m thinking of Wade Miller and Talmage Powell in particular) than his contemporaries who also got started in the 1980’s.

“I mention it in my comments on the Rap Sheet blog post, but where the guy really shone was in his seemingly effortless creation of character.  Your detective narrator has to spend plenty of time meeting people and trying to learn things from them, and Corris could make people who showed up for a paragraph seem alive.

“This nifty shorthand with character is a fairly common virtue of both fiction and film in the first half of the 20th century and in sad decline in recent decades.  Sometimes I think a character actor in a Thin Man movie who speaks three lines comes across as more memorable and alive than the leading man of many modern movies.”

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Mort: Peter Corris

Got a note from John Hocking, reporting: “I’m reading The Big Drop, a collection of detective stories by the recently deceased Australian author Peter Corris.

“It had been a while since I’d read any of his stuff, so it felt appropriate to dip into some as a salute to one of the last guys whose writing could still sound clear echoes of old school hard-boiled detective fiction.

“The last story in the book is called ‘Maltese Falcon.’  In it our Aussie detective protagonist Cliff Hardy finds himself in San Francisco trying to figure out who’s sabotaging the Sam Spade Walking Tour.  The fellow that conducts this tour is named Dan Swan.

“I really can’t imagine that you wouldn’t know about this, but searching ‘Corris’ on your web site produces nothing, so I couldn’t take the chance you’d missed it.”

I assured John that I knew about it (I blurb the whole “Dan Swan” deal on p.178 of the most recent Hammett Tour book, mentioning that Peter Corris came out on the walk twice). But then, you don’t know what you just don’t know, so I appreciate John keeping an eye out for me.

I think I’ve never blurbed Corris on the blog because he made it into the tour book, although if I’d really been racking my brain I could have mentioned him in a quick roster of writers who have walked the walk that I did back in 2012.

Very nice guy. I hadn’t heard he’d died, since it was in August last year when my attention was otherwise distracted after I’d eased past The Big Drop — for the moment.

(Oh, who am I kidding — I hadn’t even heard about a couple of The Famous Don Herrons dying! Most times, someone has to tell me this stuff.)

So, a memorial toast to Peter Corris. John says, “The story is pretty good fun and paints an agreeable picture of ‘Dan Swan’.”

(And by the way, if you want a recent sample of John’s writing, hop over to a piece he did about the second published Conan story in a little series Bob Byrne has going this year. John’s pastiche novel Conan and the Emerald Lotus has some collectors’ dollars being thrown at it.)

Posted in News, REH, Tour | Tagged , , , |

Suicide Club: Peter Field Drops a Book

A fellow adventurer from the glory days of The San Francisco Suicide Club, 1977-82, has dug around, done a bunch of research, and written a book. I went on one of the first walking tours of the Tenderloin that Peter Field did, a few years ago when he was at the outset of this quest.

Excellent info-packed tour, and I assume the same for the book.

I’ll have to pick up a copy during one of Peter’s upcoming talks, some with slideshow, some just badinage. If you go to the same one I do, maybe I’ll see you there:

Feb 12 Tuesday Tenderloin Museum 7 p.m. Talk and slides.

Feb 14 Thursday Green Apple Books (Clement Street) 7 p.m. Talk only.

May 10 Friday Mechanics Institute 12 noon. Talk only.

May 22 Wednesday Main Branch SF Public Library (Koret Auditorium) 6 p.m. Talk and slides.

Posted in Frisco, SFSC | Tagged , |

Two-Gun Bob: Sherlock Leno

Leno giveth, and Leno taketh away.

Biblical.

First Brian alerts me to the fact that REHupa mailings from the estate of Carl Osman are on the block at eBay (some with deadlines today).

Now he sends at least tentative proof that Carl is in fact a goner, with an online obit.

When Carl was in REHupa he titled his zine The Burkburnett Papers — at the time he was living in 926 Cropper in the burg of Burkburnett, Texas. Since Carl Osman isn’t that uncommon a name, Leno needed to reconcile the info that Obit Carl was a resident of Baraboo, Wisconsin at the time of his death. He does so in classic deductive style:

The obit says Carl was from Baraboo and the guy selling the REHupas is from Baraboo, so it fits. (Right now he has 16 mailings for sale on eBay, with numbers in between 175-192.)

For purposes of The Great Extinction Event countdown, however, poor Carl just can’t be the kickoff, only an outlier. Born  on June 12, 1950, he passed away on Friday, April 26, 2013.

Six years ago.

(I have to wonder how long the eBay seller hangs on to stuff picked up at estate sales, before putting it on the block. . . .)

I’m still thinking that today, Robert E. Howard’s 113th birthday, nonetheless is the day to set the countdown clock ticking. Too many of us came too close last year to keep postponing it.

So, I’m in — odds makers in Vegas, take note.

(By the way, Leno reflects on the passing of the author of The Tales of Taul: “Poor guy was young, only a year older than me.”

(Don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on Brian. He’d make a swell start for the Event. Lend it some gravitas.

(I bet he’s got an eye on me, waiting to see if my holdings show up on eBay.

(Sharpening his knife.)

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Two-Gun Bob: The “Great Extinction” Clock

Okay. I’m calling it.

Time to set the clock on the Great Extinction Event.

I was thinking about what little note to post today in acknowledgment of the birth of Robert E. Howard one hundred and thirteen years ago, when Brian Leno — a.k.a. The Haunter of eBay — sent me a link to the sale of mailing 187 of REHupa for June 2004. Brian observed that the seller had “a few of these” — meaning various REHupa mailings — “from the estate of Carl Osman, whoever he was”.

REHupa — in full, the Robert E. Howard United Press Association — itself has been around for forty-seven years. I’ve pulled a couple of stints, first in the early days from mlg 11 to mlg 16, I think it was, then later from circa mlg 93 or 94 till mlg 103 or 104, in there. The most recent mailing at this writing was numbered 274 for December 2018.

The seller clearly was unfamiliar with apas, thought it might be only a copy, because the individual members send in bizarrely variegated zines to be stapled together — they can come in as mere photocopies or the best desktop publishing has to offer. Even — more so in the old days — done on mimeograph. But he suspected (rightly) he probably had “an original issue” because “it came from the estate auction of Carl Osman who is listed as one of the 30 names in the Roster of REHUPA.”

At any given point over all these years, REHupa could have up to thirty members (a nod to REH’s lifespan, 1906-1936). And while some people hold down roster slots year after year, many come and go within months.

The seller notes that he isn’t a professional book seller, and that “most of the things I sell, came from an auction, flea market, estate sale or rummage sale.”

To recap: the news doesn’t sound good for Carl Osman.

I asked current REHupan Morgan “The Morgman” Holmes — one of those guys who has been on the Roster for year after year, even once serving as the Official Editor — about Osman.

Morgan said, “Carl was a school librarian from Texas back in the early 00’s. He was older. Not surprised he is gone. Had not heard of him in a while. I think he was from Wisconsin originally. I remember talking to him at Pulp Con about Wisconsin German serial killers. He sent me a VHS tape of a movie about Ed Gein.”

Another current REHupan, Leo Grin — veteran of a couple of stints, better known for the Howardian zine The Cimmerian and currently The Cimmerian Press — recalled his fellow apahack: “Good old Carl Osman. Met him at Howard Days in 2000. Retired librarian from Oklahoma, looked like a hobbit, was in the apa circa 1999-2001 or so, when I started the first time. Famous for his hilariously bad fiction series titled ‘Tales of Taul,’ with Taul being a Thongor-style Conan clone. Tompk used to get a lot of mileage from his Osman/Taul jokes to me in private email. As I recall he left the apa because things were getting too nasty, he was one of the ‘can’t we all just be nice’ types.”

REHupa of course is a hotbed of controversy, members constantly arguing about stuff, trying to get other members expulsed, the works. Decades of the works.

Tompk of course was, in full, Steve Tompkins, another REHupan and Howardian essayist and wag. I’ve mentioned before that we credit Tompk with the concept of The Great Extinction Event in Howard Fandom, which is to say that there must come a year when the fan base of scholars and mag publishers and even REHupa members who arrived on the scene from, say, the mid-sixties to the mid-seventies, begin dropping like flies.

And to be an Event, you need a lot of folk to tumble by the wayside, not just one guy here and another guy three years later.

Last year looked ripe for the kickoff. I came close, with triple-bypass surgery in April (and man, would I have made one hell of a boom for the starter pistol). Another guy was rumored to be near the end, another had a heart attack with one artery 100% blocked (weenie — I had two arteries 100% blocked and another 80% blocked — have to say it slowed me down). Morgan had some kind of episode that made him worried for a couple of minutes.

(Now, Morgan technically is too young to fit into the control group envisioned by Tompk, but as the only Howard scholar nominated for a Hugo Award I think he’s prominent enough so that if he kicked off, we’d have to count him.)

Any or all of us could have been gone, but medical science put the brakes on it.

You’d think someone could at least step in front of a car or something. . . .

Since I’m tired of waiting, I call Carl Osman, late of REHupa, as the starting point. Don’t know exactly when he died — jeez, for that matter, I don’t know he’s dead, but that usually happens before an estate gets dispersed.

If nothing much follows on the extinction front, I’ll apologize later. If Carl is still alive, ditto.

And for Morgan’s consideration: are we going to see a paragraph or two about The Tales of Taul in the massive history of Sword-and-Sorcery fiction The Morgman is now slaving over?

Morgan is in the trenches this month with the section about Robert E. Howard. He’ll cover all the paperback originals of the S&S boom of the seventies and after. Leiber. Moorcock. Lots of S&S paperbacks to put under the microscope.

But will Morgan mention all the people who joined REHupa seemingly just to have an outlet for their endless amateur barbarian fantasies? Aside from the constant fights, the wretched fanfic is one of my strongest memories of REHupa.

Should Taul and his REHupan ilk get a cite in the official record?

Or just show up on occasion as part of old mailings on the block at eBay?

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Frisco Beat: Omega to Alpha

Today marks the anniversary of Hammett’s death on January 10, 1961, and in one of the weirder coincidences of all time, also the death of Hammett devotee Joe Gores, same date in 2011 — exactly fifty years to the day after Hammett died.

Now I try to keep my head down on this date, and I’m thinking maybe I won’t even leave the lair — but I’ll admit that if I kicked off on the 10th, it’d be something to talk about. Better if I bite the dust on some even number, perhaps, exactly sixty or seventy after Hammett.

Gives me some leeway. Eighty years? Break out the calculator. . . .

By chance I happened across a post on the Pulp Flakes blog commemorating Gores’ birth — poor guy was born on Xmas Day.

Screwed. Half the loot you might reasonably expect.

(Another writer and Hammett fan I know — both he and Gores did articles seeking out Hammett locales in San Francisco — was Fritz Leiber, in the same boat: born December 24, 1910. I always felt sorry for Fritz — with Gores now added to the list.)

Surf over and check out the birthday notice, which incorporates a 1975 local article on Gores’ career as a private eye in Frisco before doing his crime fiction, most of it set in Frisco.

Posted in Frisco, Lit | Tagged , , |

Rediscovered: The Willeford Centennial

One hundred years ago today Charles Willeford was born in Little Rock, Arkansas.

January 2, 1919-March 27, 1988 — and that March 27th happened to be Palm Sunday, that year.

One of the absolute greats.

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Rediscovered: Despite Westlake Owing Me a Beer. . .

Somewhere around here I have a postcard from Donald Westlake saying something like, “Beer? Beer? Surely we can settle this in a civilized fashion.”

Years ago I went to a big writers deal in Fort Lauderdale, and Westlake was there, and George Plimpton and many more. Honest, it was an impressive, and big, deal.

I got to buy what turned out to be the last round one evening, when Westlake really wanted to get it. I told him if I ever got to Manhattan and it was convenient, he could return the favor, but that didn’t happen. And too bad.

Anyway, despite the fact that Westlake died owing me a beer, I didn’t hold it against him when one of his old novels got repackaged recently.

Per my usual standards of linking to reviews when they squeak through editorial at least 90-95% intact — which is to say the wording I sent in — this one qualifies, and may amuse you for a moment as a New Year jumps into the scene.

About the only thing that got chopped was my mention of Westlake naming one of his besieged monks Brother Hilarious. But you can’t squeeze everything in.

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Rediscovered: The Lure of Arkham House Ephemerae

The last few days have been devoted to the glory and the grandeur — and the morass — of that old hobby, collecting Arkham House ephemera items.

Paul Dobish, the book dealer who helped with some dope for my article on the subject in Firsts magazine back in 2002, popped up, checking to see if I had any dupes to put against his Want List.

So, I dove in. You have to go through, step by step, item by item. Brutal.

But I discovered that I had in hand an item that wasn’t even on the list in Firsts, and I had not even noticed. I was thinking it was Item 92, because the title was the same, the first line was identical — but no.

Best I can figure at this moment, it comes after Item 93 — a.k.a. the Wandrei catalog — and before Item 96. Where exactly, that may never be determined.

Such is the life of an ephemera collector.

To get an insight into the hobby, see if the link below works for you — but if it does, be warned: you too might be drawn irrevocably into this collecting game:

Unknown Arkham Eph

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