JOHN RACKHAM – The Double Invaders. Ace Double G-623, paperback original, 1967. Published back-to-back with These Savage Futurians, by Philip E. High (reviewed here).

   This seemingly simple story of invasion from outer space is indeed something more. The prologue introduces the mystery, a secret plan of Earth against the expanding empire of Zorgan. Without knowing about this underlying factor, the reader would proceed quickly and enjoyably through the greater part of the book.

   As it turns out, a little more concentration is required. Motivations are not as obvious as they might first seem, relationships are not as they might first appear. And yet, if the blurb on the inside front cover is interpreted correctly, everything becomes as obvious as it does at the story’s conclusion. It should be obvious all along, but Rackham does a creditable job of fooling the reader.

   The society of Scarta, the invaded planet, is very well developed, with a [Poul] Anderson-like astronomy influenced theology. Another feature, passing almost without notice, is the linguistic problem of translation: for example (page 69) how do you describe war without a word for it?

Rating: 4½ stars.

Bibliographic Notes: John Rackham was a pen name of British writer John T. Phillifent. Under that name and as Rackham, he wrote 18 traditional SF novels for Ace and Daw between 1964 and 1973. He also wrote three of the series of “Man from UNCLE” books published by Ace in the 1960s.

EDWARD S. AARONS – The Art Studio Murders. Macfadden 50-198, paperback, 1964; Manor, paperback, 1975. Originally published by Handi-Book, #122, as Dark Memory by Edward Ronns; Avon 688, paperback, 1950, also as by Edward Ronns but under the new title.

   First let me assure everyone out there that I don’t feel the least bit suicidal. But if I ever do, I know the perfect, fool-proof method: I shall simply call the Police, tell them I know who the Killer is, but I can’t name him over the phone — I must meet a Detective and tell him in person. Meeting arranged, I can simply sit back and relax, secure in the knowledge that when the cops get here, they will find me dead, bludgeoned from behind. Or fatally stabbed. Or perhaps shot. Maybe poisoned, a la The Big Sleep, but that’s rare. In any case, I shall be well & truly Dead.

   Works all the time in fiction. With metronomic regularity. So much so that when I came across it here, I had a flashback to High School and Julius Caesar:

   Well I couldn’t say off-hand, but I myself just couldn’t take any more. I closed Art Studio and picked up something else.

   Up to that point, it had been a perfectly serviceable mystery. Aspiring artist and babe-magnet Henry Dana gets pushed off a subway platform two days before his big show at a prestigious gallery. No one sees him get pushed, the police are inclined to disbelieve him, and he himself begins to have doubts, but a second attack… well you can write the rest yourself. Or read my copy, which has a rather nice cover.

   I just couldn’t get past that familiar phone call that always, invariably, repeatedly, inexorably, eternally, persistently, habitually, unceasingly, perpetually, unchangingly, endlessly, unfailingly, inalterably, everlastingly, and without exception, leads to the same end.

BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. Eagle-Lion Films, 1948. Lucille Bremer, Richard Carlson (PI Ross Stewart), Douglas Fowley, Ralf Harolde, Tom Brown Henry, Herbert Heyes, Tor Johnson. Director: Oscar Boetticher. Available on DVD and currently now on YouTube.

   When the movie opens, newly minted PI Ross Stewart is admiring the work of the painter who has just put his name on the door of his office. It takes a while for the first client of most newly minted PI’s to walk in, but not in this movie. She – and of course she is a she – shows up even before the painter leaves. And he immediately falls in amorous lust for her. (I guess he has been reading too many pulp PI stories.)

   She does not reciprocate his advances, but neither does she seem all that put out by them. What she does have is a proposition for him, and strictly a business one. She thinks she know where a certain judge whom the district attorney and the police would love to get their hands on is hiding out.

   She has been following the judge’s girl friend, and ever night at a certain time she is admitted through a side entrance to a local mental institution. What she wants Stewart to do is to get himself admitted to said mental institution to see what he can learn on the inside. Stewart demurs until she mentions a $10,000 reward for the judge, which she is willing to split with him.

   Now you very well may be thinking to yourself that you have seen or read this story somewhere else before, and if you have watching or reading a lot of pulp fiction or B-movies from the 30s or 40s, I am sure you have. But with a director like Oscar Boetticher, sometimes known as Budd, at the helm, the 60 plus minutes (barely over) goes by very quickly.

   In any case, mental institutions in the 30s and 40s were no place to find yourself shut up in, and the one in Behind Closed Doors is no exception. But Lucille Bremer playing Richard Carlson’s partner in this particular plan does hold up her end of it, and all ends well, eventually.

PHILIP E. HIGH – These Savage Futurians. Ace Double G-623, paperback original, 1967. Published back-to-back with The Double Invaders, by John Rackham (review to be posted shortly).

   Two rival organizations surviving the end of present-day Earth’s civilization battle over a psycho-genetically controlled primitive named Robert Ventnor. As it often happens in High’s stories, Ventnor is captured and quickly trained in almost an overnight transformation.

   In fact, Ventnor becomes an expert in both micro-robotics and biology, combining both fields to find new methods in curing diseases. It is therefore not surprising that he becomes the key to the future of mankind.

   The story of mankind’s fall is not the usual one, not war, but the over-centralization of production, and that of decreasing quality. The description of gradual anarchy is quite chilling.

Rating: **½

Biographical Update: Quite a bit of information about the author can be found in his online obituary written by John Clute, from which the following excerpt seems relevant:

   “Nothing High wrote was as unremittingly apocalyptic as Shute’s On the Beach (1957), but his space operas consistently pit figures of valour (and science-fictional super powers) against dystopian cultures and worlds. One of the best of them, Butterfly Planet (1971), typically engages manipulative aliens against an Earth splayed into dystopian factions; telepathic sex for the good, and instant devolution for villains, arousingly ensue.”

  DR WHO AND THE DALEKS. Amicus, 1965. Peter Cushing, (Dr Who) Roy Castle, Jennie Linden, and Roberta Tovey. Screenplay by Terry Nation and Milton Subotsky, from the BBC Television Serial. Directed by Gordon Flemyng.

   I’ve kind of wanted to give this a look, ever since I saw the previews at the old Southern Theater back in the late 1960s, and I’m glad I got around to it at last.

   It’s Kid’s Stuff, with paper-thin characters, contrived plot, and labored pratfalls from Roy Castle, but I shall remember it fondly, long after better films lie lost in my fading memory, thanks to the gaudy photography of John Wilcox (whose credits include The Third Man and Outcast of the Islands) and the splendid sets, courtesy of Bill Constable, known for… well, not for much, really.

   But once the principals get into the City of the Daleks, this thing takes on the look of a child’s dream, with labyrinthine corridors of shiny plastic, sheer cliffs, bottomless pits, walls that spin like the numbers on slot machines, and the Daleks themselves, rolling about like lethal gumball machines.

   And all at once, this tatty, cliché’d thing takes on a dream-life of its own, actually building up considerable suspense as it barrels toward a lively donnybrook played out like a child’s ballet.
   

THE RIFLEMAN “The Marshal.” ABC, 21 October 1958 (Season 1, Episode 4). Chuck Connors (Lucas McCain), Johnny Crawford (Mark McCain). Guest Cast: Paul Fix, James Drury, R.G. Armstrong, Robert Wilke, Warren Oates, Abby Dalton, Bill Quinn. Written & directed by Sam Peckinpah.

   It doesn’t really get any more western than this. Written and directed by Sam Peckinpah, “The Marshal,” a first season episode of The Rifleman has it all. A once respected lawman gone to seed and now a drunk who refuses to even carry a gun. A pair of brothers terrorizing a town. A scheming outlaw willing to murder without hesitation. A redemption arc for the aforementioned drunken former marshal. And some terrific character actors.

   Although Chuck Connors is the star, this episode really belongs to Paul Fix. He portrays Micah Torrance, a once fearless marshal who is first seen stumbling drunk outside of a saloon. Lucas McCain (Connors) takes him under his wing and offers him good hard work on the ranch. It’s there that both he and his son Mark (Johnny Crawford) realize how much damage whiskey has gone to Micah’s body and soul.

   At more or less the same time that Micah is trying to put his life back together, outlaws ride into town. Leading the group is the handsome, but devious Lloyd Carpenter (James Drury before he starred in The Virginian). There are also two brothers. Flory Sheltin (Robert Wilke) and his brother Andrew (Warren Oates).

   Without giving away too much of the story, let’s just say that something happens to the current sheriff of North Fork (R. G. Armstrong) that allows for Micah to take his place as the chief lawman of the fictional New Mexico town. Fix would go on to appear in some 150 or so episodes of The Rifleman.
   

MARTEN CUMBERLAND – The Knife Will Fall. Doubleday/Crime Club, US, hardcover, 1943.

   In most of the mysteries written by Cumberland under his own name, the detective was the formidable Commisaire Saturnin Dax of the French Surete , so it came as a bit of a surprise to me when I recently discovered that Cumberland was an accomplished English journalist for most of his life and was apparently as British as they come.

   (Even less known than Cumberland is today, is the fact that under the pseudonym of Kevin O’Hara he also wrote of the adventures of a London private eye named Chico Brett. None of these books seems ever to have been published in this country.)

   In this novel, my own first introduction to the gentleman, the phlegmatic Dax is described as a great bulk of a man; otherwise, our picture of him is reduced and restricted by seeing only his brain at work . If in personality he seems imaginatively dull, his assistant, the English-loving Felix Norman, in strong contrast, does more and reacts more.

The case itself is a peculiarly disjointed one. The connection between a series of victims who seem never to have met or known each other before is the playing card each of them received as an advance warning. One aspect of the case, that of a wife who strangely disappears after being observed reading about the murders in the papers, is even more tenuously tied in.

   False clues – red herrings – abound, many of them deliberately set by the gang of killers, led by a mysterious mastermind, or so Dax hypothesizes. The central part of the story sags rather badly. There is no sparkle, no real verve to keep our interest alive. Not until a wholly unexpected killing takes place, taking us by total surprise, are we jolted out of our apathy. The ending is a hodgepodge, but I have to admit that the facts do fit what seemed till then a nearly unexplainable series of events.

   A very strange book. Very much out of the ordinary, as if Cumberland had caught the pattern of French thought as well as he sees to have aught the rhythm of the French tongue, (Take this observation with a grain of salt. I’m no expert on either one.)

Rating: C plus.

Bibliographic Update: There were in all 34 adventures of Comissaire Dax, not all of which were ever  published in this country, along with a sizable number of standalone mysteries. As for Chico Brett, whom I mentioned in the review, there were 16 of those, and as I said, none have been published over here. As for the author himself, he has a very short entry on Wikipedia, which you may find here.

   This has been a terrible year for conventions. SF conventions, Windy City, and Pulpfest, all cancelled and postponed to next year. For 50 years I’ve had my choice of shows to attend, usually going to Pulpcon/Pulpfest and Windy City. But for the first time I had no convention to attend until Pulp Adventurecon on November 7, 2020. A couple months ago I would have said that there was no way the show could be held because of the NJ lockdown mandated by Gov. Murphy.

Left to right: Walker Martin, Matt Moring, Scott Hartshorn,
and William Maynard seated.

   But somehow, against all odds, Rich Harvey and Audrey Parente managed to organize a show despite the virus increasing in NJ. Social distancing was the rule with masks and hand sanitizer available. The venue was new with the location moved to Mt Laurel, NJ at the Clarion Hotel. I don’t believe we will be returning to the Bordentown location.

   The dealer’s room was very large with 16 dealers and around 30 tables. The pandemic kept attendance down but there were 60 to 80 attendees. However, as you can see from the photo of the room, often the room appeared almost empty. Here are my snapshot impressions:

   Author and dealer Darrell Schweitzer had his usual table but did not appear to sell much.

   Matt Moring and I shared a table but between us we sold only four pulps. However we came to buy, not to sell.

   Gary Lovisi and his wife were present with the new Paperback Parade issue. Gary also filmed a report on You Tube.

   John Gunnison had six tables and appeared to be selling well.

   Ed Hulse said this show was better that the last two Pulp Adventurecons combined. At least for him.

Ed Hulse.

   Paul Herman had a table full of paperbacks and did well.

   William Maynard sold many books that he heavily discounted.

   Martin Grams shocked me with his “Going out of business” sale. For many years he has been selling DVDs and writing books about the old TV series. But he soon will be opening a Coffee shop and his last book will be the one on the Lone Ranger.

   Digges La Touche usually stays all day buying pulps but this year he was in and out before I even arrived. The virus has changed our buying habits.

   What did I buy? William Maynard sold me a set of the Sanders of the Rivers stories by Edgar Wallace. Ed Hulse sold me a couple nice looking books on L. Ron Hubbard, and John Gunnison sold me three pulps that I had once owned. It seems that I had traded off these issues but as I often do years later, I start collecting them again.

Dealers room.

   The big buy for me was the silver anniversary issue of Top Notch, March 1935. I had mistakenly sold it 20 years ago and it took me all this time to find another copy. I also bought a copy of the May 1939 issue of Dime Detective which I used to own. It has a great titled story by Cornell Woolrich, “The Case of the Killer-Diller.” I also use to own the Dime Mystery issue for October 1947. If you collect Black Mask and Dime Detective, you should also collect the other Popular Publication detective titles such as Dime Mystery, Detective Tales, New Detective. I’ve been in the pulp collecting game so long that I’ve started to collect titles for the second time around.

John Gunnison, on the right.

   For several years I’ve been hosting a brunch get together for my long time friends on the Friday before the show. This year, after much thought, I decided to go ahead and have a scaled down version of the lunch. There were six of my closest pals in attendance:

   Matt Moring–In addition to being in charge of Steeger Books and Altus Press, he also collects pulps and original art

   Paul Herman–Dealer, art collector, and Black Mask collector.

   Nick Certo–Book dealer and art collector.

   Scott Hartshorn–collector of all sorts of bizarre things and art collector also.

   Ed Hulse–Now for a couple friends who are not art collectors. Ed is editor and publisher of Blood n Thunder magazine and Murania Press books..

   Digges La Touche–Book, pulp, and dime novel collector. Not too many dime novel guys around anymore. He also is the last of the pulp excerpters. I remember when there were a lot of old time collectors excerpting pulps and making home made books of the excerpted stories.

C. M. Eddy material (Weird Tales author and friend of Lovecraft).

   I just added up the years I’ve known these guys. Over 200 years between them! Some good deals were made at the pre-convention brunch also. Matt sold a three volume Steeger Books edition of H. Bedford Jones complete John Solomon series. A set of preliminary Larry Schwinger drawings for his Cornell Woolrich paperback covers were sold. Several issues of Western Story were bought. After the brunch we found a new place to eat dinner near my house. PJ’s Pancake House and Tavern. Once again I noticed that I’m often the only drinker. This must mean something but I haven’t figured out what. Maybe a Nero Wolfe connection? Or tough private eyes?

   We stayed at the convention until almost 4 pm and then went to Mastoris Diner, another post-convention tradition. Good friends, good food, good drink, as my old friend Harry Noble used to say.

   So thank you Rich and Audrey for taking the big risk and putting on the convention. Hope to see you next year without the pandemic! Also thanks to Paul Herman for taking these photos.

   I hope to see many of you at Windy City in April and Pulpfest in August next year. I don’t know if I can survive another such year as 2020.

TREASURE OF RUBY HILLS. Allied Artists, 1955. Zachary Scott, Carole Mathews, Dick Foran, Barton MacLane, Lola Albright, Raymond Hatton, Lee Van Cleef, Stanley Andrews and Steve Darrell. Screenplay by Tom Hubbard and Fred Eggers, based on the pulp story “The Rider of the Ruby Hills” by Louis L’Amour, written under the pen-name Jim Mayo (West, September 1949), later expanded to the novel Where the Long Grass Blows (1976). Directed by Frank McDonald. Currently available on YouTube here.

   There’s no treasure, and we never actually get to the Ruby Hills, but here’s an intelligent Western, well-played, with some interesting noirish angles.

   Things kick off fast, with Zachary Scott and his aging outlaw buddy waiting nervously for their partner to return with his end of a land-grab they’re plotting. He gets back, mission accomplished, and in a voice like a dead man’s, tells his friends who killed him.

   It’s obvious from here that the game’s afoot, as they say in shoe stores, but things pause for a short word from an aging sheriff to the effect that Darrell’s past is catching up with him, and Scott would be wise to part ways before it does. It’s a thoughtful moment that turns moving when Darrell opts to send Scott on alone while he lingers in a ghost town to “see some old friends.”

   Then it’s back to the plot: quarreling cattle barons, and a third party keeping things stirred up for his own ends. Scott has grabbed the water rights to the whole valley, but there’s so much going on around him, that detail seems to get lost in the shuffle. What we get is a vigorous shoot-out, a desperate escape through dark alleys and shadowy stables, a showdown between Scott and Lee Van Cleef, and a final set-to back in the old ghost town where it all started.

   Along the way we get some finely-etched characters. Zachary Scott, a native-born Texan and a figure of moral ambiguity in the movies, combines both aspects quite effectively. He really does look like a man who’s been mixing in low company a little too long. And he comes up against tough Carole Mathews (one of Corman’s Swamp Women) as a gal who clearly has her own plans. Gordon Jones vacillates quite well as her double-dealing brother, Lee Van Cleef struts his razor-sharp villainy, and Dick Foran, on his way to becoming a fine character actor, does an excellent turn as a contemplative, pipe-smoking schemer.

   Writers Hubbard & Eggars make the story a little too convoluted, and director Frank McDonald lets the reins slacken now and again, but for the most part things move swiftly and agreeably here, and the result is a solid B-western I can highly recommend.

STARTLING STORIES, September 1952. Overall Rating: 1½ stars.

JACK VANCE “Big Planet.” Complete novel [92 pages]. A long and tedious account of the adventures of a commission from Earth as they make their way from their wrecked spaceship to their Enclave on Big Planet. Vance does a good job in describing the numerous cultures on this heterogeneous planet, but the effect is lost under the weight of so many. An adventure story only. (1½)

Comment: This was expanded (perhaps) and published in hardcover by Avalon Books (1957), then in paperback as half of an Ace Double (D-295; 1958). Reprinted in novel form several times since. I am aware that many readers consider this a minor classic, and I knew so even at the time, but it just didn’t click for me.

ROGER DEE “The Obligation.” Novelet. A fairly interesting story of Man’s first meeting with Alien, taking place during a wild storm on Venus. Ending tries to make up fo a lack of solid characterization. (3)

Comment: Reprinted in Adventures on Other Planets, edited by Donald A. Wollheim (Ace, paperback, 1955).

R. J. McGREGOR “The Perfect Gentleman.” An effort to show the effects of being lost in space on a woman’s repressed sexuality. (1)

CHARLES E. FRITCH “Night Talk.” Obvious parallel to Christmas story on Mars. (1)

Comment: Collected in Crazy Mixed-Up Planet (Powell, paperback, 1969).