Before any of you pervs get all excited pondering Vic's crotchless undies, remember, the opening was for bodily functions other than sexual reproduction. (However, if the pee and the poo excites you, feel free to carry on; it's not my thing, but no judgements here.) Anyway, this queen wasn't known for her sexual dalliances.
Infamous for her disinterest in sex, I doubt anybody ever really got a good look at these before the internet plastered them all over the world.
Anyway, it think it's cool that a private collector, Barbara Rusch, is taking a quarter of a century to slowly dress (or is that undress?) Queen Victoria.
Prices seem very "robust" (from $200 to $315), but the details are sketchy on this etching... and the artist.
Little is published on the web about the artist. Other than knowing his full name, Jean Auguste Vyboud, and lifespan dates (1872-1944), it's a blank left to books not available in Google's book search preview and/or in other languages, leaving me rather clueless. (Hint Hint all of you knowledgeable in art...)
Dates are speculative; this seller (very bottom of the page) says it's from the 1960's, and this seller claims the engraving is from the early 1900's. Prints can have multiple runs, but usually only if the artwork or artist is very popular. Even more so for quality prints.
Interestingly, my print is not only signed in pencil, but part of a numbered run (16/100, also in pencil). I wonder if this makes it older or newer, more valuable or less valuable...
Everyone, everything has its price; so I could be tempted to sell it.
In any case, mom's not getting it back. *wink*
(But I might give her a share of the wealth, if it came to that.)
So reads this vintage Bakelite trinket box, a dresser piece to hold men's shirt studs. Very pun-ny, yes?
The seller says it measures 3 inches in diameter and 3 is a "fabulous little memento of the days when "Gentlemen" dressed to the nines and used all those lovely gold and onyx studs in their starched shirts!"
Las Vegas policeman Bill Cassell said Tuesday that the actor was cited Friday for carrying an unloaded concealed weapon at the Las Vegas airport.
Lewis' manager, Claudia Marghilano, says the handgun is a hollowed-out prop gun that Lewis sometimes twirls during his show. She tells The Associated Press that the gun couldn't fire.
Marghilano says Lewis didn't know the gun was in the bag along with other props.
Cassell says if the gun were merely a prop "it wouldn't be a weapon and we couldn't cite him for carrying a weapon".
Possible quips:
a) Jerry's always mistaking real things for props; like Jerry's kids, for example.
b) Do the French still love Lewis?
c) Jerry hasn't been this low-key funny (as opposed to out-right slap-stick annoying) since Boeing Boeing (that's the 1965 film farce about sexist playboy journalists with a thing for stewardesses starring Tony Curtis, Jerry Lewis, Dany Saval, Christiane Schmidtmer, Suzanna Leighnot, & Thelma Ritter' not to be confused with Boing Boing, the site which may or may not delight in such films).
I've been out in the big blue room, buying or at least hoping to add to my collections; so I've not been online much. I'm not sure if it's greed which makes me stay away, or if it's just a momentum issue & I resist a change to once again sitting in front of the screen... Well, that and I may have an announcement regarding a project next week or so :knock wood:
But in any case, here are a few things I managed to spot this week...
1) Peter at Beauty In Darkness discusses BDSM in mainstream movies -- I'm less interested in Wanted; but revel in the dish on The Mask of Fu Manchu.
Along with creating Boob McNutt, Rube Goldberg co-founded the National Cartoonists' Society in 1945, becoming the group's first president. The prestigious "Rueben Awards" are named after him.
Bodies all over the place, everywhere you looked, stumbling over each other trying to be next in line. Where do they all come from?
There was a while, back during the late 1960s and on into the '70s, when I was buying people by the ton. It sure seemed that way, at least. After Greenleaf Classics began buying magazines filled with photos of naked people packaged by outside contractors, I began growing annoyed with the types of people they were using as models. Somehow, they were doing things all wrong, I contended. They should be paying attention to what those people look like at least, and cleaning up some of them considerably ahead of time.
Naturally, I figured I could pick desirable people out as well as the next guy, and hopefully a little bit better while I was at it. I had no sooner begun contacting Los Angeles area modeling agencies when they started barraging me with telephone calls themselves. I had no idea there were so many modeling agencies in the entire state, much less in Hollywood alone. Each one of those agencies had loose leaf notebooks filled with Polaroid photos of naked people for me to look at…lots and lots of loose leaf notebooks. It was much easier that way, flipping the pages, looking at the naked people trying to smile up at me from within those loose leaves.
Earl Kemp also, literally, exposes himself...
And others too...
Occasionally, and just for fun, I would insert photographs of personal friends without their knowledge, in the nude, into some of our various publications. Then, after the publication appeared, give them copies of it and point them out inside the issue. Without exception, every one of them was pleased with the surprise and passed copies of them around among their friends.
In a similar jest, I would also insert close-up photos of myself without showing my face into those books or magazines. At one time, most of the black cork wall on one side of my office was pinned with tear sheets of just me, and not one person working there knew it was me. I recall taking my cue for this from Alfred Hitchcock, who always inserted himself into each of his productions. I figured I could easily outcock Hitchcock, and I did.
Continue reading this issue of Kemp's fanzine for more on Song of the Loon, the work "that started a mini revolution in sleaze book publishing," the film Adultery for Fun and Profit, and the film's aftermath too -- featuring lots of great old ephemera and lurking federal government guys.
How crude and rude of Dick to eat While walking gaily down the street (Perhaps he nibbles on the roam Because he's starved by folks at home!)
If one is to believe that a crude and rude dick's behavior is based on how well he is satisfied at home, then noman earns a Klondike bar; his woman does.
John Cebollero's Jive About: A Sketchbook 08 has an exclusive, never-before-published pin-up collaboration with Richard Corben -- and you can get signed copies of this limited edition, as well as have John create an original sketch on the back cover for you, at his website.
Of this risqué and creepé salt & pepper shaker set the seller says:
This listing is for a one vintage risque set of salt & pepper shakers featuring a nude woman with puppies. One pup is perched on her butt while the other is snuggled warm and nicely between her ummm....see pics. She is wearing nothing but an expression of sheer pleasure. Every part of her has glaze except her knees (hummmmm). Measuring a mere 1 1/2" tall with no chips or cracks she's waiting. Ohhhhhhhh Yeaaaaaaah. Being sold as-found, as-consigned. The pottery is almost Wade-like, but they are unmarked.
Pan Yuliang is a wonderful artist -- but one who is often discussed more for her struggle to become one (having been sold at the age of 14 into prostitution by her only surviving relative) and for her nude works (at a time when such works were scandalous).
I'm delighted to have Jennifer's insight here...
SPS: When/how did you first become aware of Pan Yuliang?
Jennifer: I was actually the Guggenheim with my husband and some relatives—roughly ten years ago. The exhibition—which was amazing--was on Modern Chinese Art, and there was just one image by Pan Yuliang on display. But it drew me over immediately; it was a typical Pan Yuliang in that it was very evocative of Matisse and Cezanne, and the bright, bold colors and distinctly Western setting (as compared to the huge propaganda-style images and much more subtle ink paintings around it) really stood out for me.
SPS: What was it that captured you & compelled you to write the book?
Jennifer: Upon seeing the picture, I went over to study it more closely. And when I read about Pan’s story (prostitute-concubine-Post-Impressionist icon; really?!) it just blew me away. I’d never heard of her before—but I couldn’t, at that moment, understand why---it struck me that everyone should know about her. I suppose writing the book was one way to try to understand her, and to try to imagine what making that sort of an extraordinary journey would be like.
SPS: How long did it take to create the book?
Jennifer: From inception to publication it was almost exactly ten years--so a long time! Granted, throughout that period I quite my job at NBC, finished an MFA at Columbia and also had my two daughters, so there were some side-trips.
SPS: Why write a novel, rather than a biography?
Jennifer: Mainly because I'd made the decision--after ten years in journalism--to try writing fiction, which I'd always wanted to do. But also because Pan's story ended up being one of those where I actually had to use creative license in order to get any sort of a complete sense of her. Even the art historians I spoke to confirmed that there is so little actually factually known about her (even the birthdate on her gravestone in Paris is generally agreed to be inaccurate) that in order to get a full sense of her life, one has to simply imagine.
SPS: You mention there is little documentation or biographical information about her... What do you think that is due to? A lack of respect for her, her art? Did her popularity increase after her death, when it was "too late" for much information? Or was it a general lack of respect for women in general? Or just a problem in general of artists from that time? Something else?
Jennifer: I think the lack of documentation was in part a combination of all these factors. But I also think that Pan herself kept a pretty tight grip on her story and was very careful about the versions of it she allowed out. This isn't surprising, given how wildly controversial both her work and her history were, and also given the fact that people tended to pay more attention to the latter than the former.
SPS: Have you seen Hua hun, and if so, what are your thoughts on the film?
Jennifer: I have. I actually knew about the film fairly early into my research, but held off watching it until I was well grounded in my own book and characters---I didn't want to risk being overly influenced by it. think I finally sat through it after I'd already finished with Shanghai in my book and was moving on to Paris. I certainly appreciated Hua Hun for its beauty--it was very well-done, and I loved the intense aestheticism of it visually. But I did feel that--like the biography it's based on--the movie portrayed Pan Yuliang as somewhat less of a self-determined woman and artist than I came to see her as. The general sense I got from watching it was that she was more or less shaped by the actions of the men around her; e.g., rescued despite herself from the brothel, guided into art and school by her husband, etc. I sensed such a strength of character and will in her paintings, though, that I really wanted to give her more of a role in her evolution as an artist.
It's been noted to me, incidentally, that some readers think i made her too strong--they don't find her particularly likeable. But my sense is (both from my own musings and from what I've heard) that she wasn't an easy person in real life to either know or to like--so I suppose in some ways that just makes me hope that I got something right!
SPS: Did she have any children?
Jennifer: She did not. The biographical info points to at least one pregnancy but (as I write [in the book]) that was terminated. She did adopt her husband's son, however; he's still alive I believe, in Anhui province.
SPS: If you could say in one sentence (of what took a decade to create) -- what you think is the sum of the book... I guess that would be two sentences --
Jennifer: The sum, for me, is really the boundless creativity and ingenuity of the human spirit (though I hope that doesn't make people gag!). The truth is, Pan Yuliang was pretty much damned from the start by so many factors--her gender, her class, her country of origin; the fact that her parents died and her uncle was an opium addict; the fact that she was sold into a brothel. It's a set of circumstances that most women would simply not have survived. And yet thanks to her resilience, talent and the sheer bravery she displayed in painting what she wanted, regardless of cost, she has left other women and artists this extraordinary example and legacy. (I'm sorry, that's four sentences and a lot of semicolons!)
SPS: That's OK -- it took me how many sentence fragments just to get near a question. *wink* Do you have a "one sentence bit" of what you hope the reader walks away with from The Painter From Shanghai?
Jennifer: That even in the most apparently dire of circumstances you still have the power to shape your own dreams, goals, life.
SPS: And, in one sentence, what did you walk away from the experience with?
Jennifer: The thrill of having had Pan Yuliang and China as a job for the past decade (how lucky is that!?), and a renewed faith in myself for actually having published a historical novel with family and sanity (at least somewhat) intact!
Call in questions and comments are welcome at 1 (646) 200-3136. (And rumor has it that a copy of The Painter from Shanghai will be given away to live callers...)
If you miss the show, you can listen to the archived show (or download it) here.
These may be considered "head vase related" collectibles, but it's not the heads you will be looking at.
This first one is a Davar Originals (Japan) -- and when you hear what she's for, you'll understand her expression. She's an ashtray! Yup, you flick your red-hot ashes into her ample bosom.
Marked ...A Sockl, Wien, 1. and Collection,, Vlan...Nr.713. I have no idea what that means, but it looks like a game of some sort... Any ideas? I know naughty cards give you "ideas"; but I mean do you have any helpful information? *wink*
I imagine bald-but-hairy-chested attorney Neil Price swaggering through the discos, gold chains nestled in his sweaty chest hair, passing these out to similar looking married males...
Less work than chasing ambulances; and I'm sure they saved them, making them a pretty good promotional tool.
But still, images of gold-chain-wearing 70's dudes creepily fingering their matchbooks are going to keep me up tonight.
And no, I don't want to know if he had different versions for his potential female clients.
This "guy" recently discovered that Great Uncle Mutz was TheMutz Greenbaum (aka Max Greene & Max Green) -- and then starts digging through the old photos. Below, Mutz on right, with who is thought to be Peter Sellers.
I don't know whether to smack this "guy" with a rolled-up newspaper for not knowing, or to hug him/her for posting his goodies online. (Then again, maybe they like the smacking thing, in which case we can all win.) Now they need help with identifying the people, films, &/or locations etc. in the photographs.
In his research he discovered that Mutz's father (so "the guy's" Great Grandfather) was Jules Greenbaum. Jules Greenbaum was not only the founder of Greenbaum films, but he produced and patented a number of motion picture equipment, including the Bioscope, the Vitascope, and the Synchroscope, one of the better early synchronized picture/sound systems.
Anyway, if you have any information on the photos, please post/share it.
Sheet music for the 1949 varsity show performance of Adamant Eve. Songs: I Didn't Know it Was That Good and Kissing Me; lyrics by Moe Jaffe and music by Clay Boland. Cover illustration by Lou Day. Via University of Pennsylvania Archives.
Ruan Lingyu: A Decade Of Film & Even More Years Of Tragedy
Ruan Lingyu (also known/billed as Ruan Ling-Yu, Lingyu Ruan, Lily Yuan, & Lily Yuen) is the Chinese silent film star whose works are not very well known here in the US; I myself have TCM to thank for making her acquaintance -- first via The Peach Girl (aka Peach Blossom Weeps Tears of Blood, 1931; I'll be reviewing it soon!) & then The Goddess (1934).
Born Ruan Fenggeng in Shanghai on April 26, 1910, Ruan experienced the difficult life of a child of a poor migrant family from Canton. Her father died by the time she was six, and her mother moved away from Shanghai the following year to work as a housemaid in the home of the wealthy Zhang family. While she sent Ruan to school, by the age of 16 the young girl dropped out -- and moved in with the Zhang's son, Damin.
There was very strong opposition by Zhang's family to this tongiu (the romantic cohabitational love of 'the moderns' who eschewed arranged & even agreed upon marriages). This opposition resulted not only in Zhang not getting any financial support from his family, but in getting Ruan's mother fired as well; she moved in with the young couple. This, along with Damin's gambling & general irresponsibility, meant that Ruan must work to support the household.
In 1926, at the age of 16, Ruan spots an ad for "film actors needed" at Star Movie Studios. With the help of Zhang HuiChong, Damin's elder brother who had starred in swordplay films for the Commercial Press in the early 20's, Ruan went for an interview and audition. (Zhang HuiChong got married to Xu Sue/Wu Suxin, a rather famous actress working at the Great China Film Studios, and together they created the short-lived United Film Studios -- sometimes referred to as the HuiChong Film Company -- from 1924-1927.)
Ruan's diligence & beauty outshone her lack of education and she was cast in 1927's A Couple in Name Only (aka The Nominal Couple), directed by Bu Wancang (aka Wancang Bu &/or Richard Poh).
Prior to 1920, only a few short movies had been made in Shanghai and Hong Kong, and, much like Shakespearean works, all the performers were male, including the female roles.
Public opinion lumped actresses in with prostitutes, actually calling them prostitutes; in their defense, prostitution was one of only two options for women who wanted to work, and as proper modest Chinese women would never boast or promote themselves in public, the willingness to project themselves onto screens for everyone to see put them in the same category as the other indecent women.
She made a few films at MingXing, but it wasn't until she left MingXing and joined Da Zhonghua Baihe Film Company (which quickly merged with other companies to become Lianhua Film Company) that she found real success and Shanghai stardom. That film was A Dream in the Old Capital (aka Reminiscence Of Peking, 1929).
It is said that around this time Ruan adopted her daughter, XiaoYu; yet she and Damin have already parted from each other three times -- and between 1927 and 1928 Ruan is said to have tried to commit suicide. By the end of 1928, their relationship crisis seems to be over, but Damin continues to gamble and live off Ruan's earnings.
Ruan continues to make films for Lianhua and her popularity grows. According to TCM, in Bright Lights Film Journal Gary Morris says that at Lianhua, Ruan "would find her greatest successes in a series of intense female-centered melodramas, many of them engaged with such pressing social issues as poverty, class conflict, prostitution, illegitimacy, women's rights, suicide, and occasionally a political film that grew out of anxieties around Japan's invasion of Shanghai."
In 1932, during the invasion of Japanese towards Shanghai, Ruan & Damin fled to Hong Kong. As soon as the situation became stable Ruan returned to Shanghai and involved in her first leftist inspired film, Three Modern Women, which brought her to another peak of her career, pushing her into second place on the 1933 list of the Top Ten stars in a Movie Queen contest run by local newspaper & magazines.
It was in 1932, while Damin was still in Hong Kong, that Ruan met wealthy merchant Tang Jishan, the "King of the Tea", at a party; by March of 1933 Ruan had moved into Tang's home.
On April 9th, Zhang returned from Hong Kong, prepared to make a fuss with the press regarding his romance with Ruan. A few days later he signed an agreement saying that Ruan would provide him with 100 yuan per month for the next two years -- and in return he would not bother her again. Sort of a common law divorce.
On August 8th of 1933, Tang and Ruan announce their engagement.
Things continue to go well for Ruan. In 1934 she stars in Cai Chusheng's A New Woman, considered by many to be her best film.
However the press takes issue with the film's heroine, who, having been forsaken by her husband & failing to make a living from writing, was forced to become a prostitute to raise her child -- and then to commit suicide. It wasn't so much the ethics or morals of the plot which angered the press, but the film's accusation that the suicide of the woman had been a result of the press' libelous reports. The film was edited to tone down the accusation, but as the film was inspired by the life & death of actress and writer Ai Xia, who took her own life in 1934, the accusation lingered like the taste of bile in a throat... But the film was very well received by audiences and Ruan's fame soared.
Damin, likely either deeply in gambling debt, or just wanting a larger piece of Ruan's popularity (and yuan) pie, returned to extort more money from the actress. This upset Tang who, despite insider suggestion that it made Ruan unhappy, brought Damin into court on December 27, 1934, resulting in a media frenzy.
Despite public adoration of Ruan and the more or less scandalous living arrangements between herself and Damin, the couple is seen to have a common law marriage and Tang -- along with Ruan -- are accused of fanghai hunyin jiating zui, the equivalent of an attack on family values & marriage in general.
Perhaps this was due to some acceptance of Damin & Ruan's common law marriage; but Damin's old & traditional family name with its history of imperial officers also outranked Tang's "new money" and simple "merchant" status. Of course, Tang's history of divorces and affairs probably didn't win him any points either... Not that Damin hadn't been a louse too.
But in this sordid scandal, it is Ruan who looses pubic favor and is put under great scrutiny and stress. She is summoned to appear in court on March 9th, but sometime during the night of March 7th she wrote several letters & then committed suicide.
She was found dead on March 8, 1935.
It was International Women's Day.
More than 100,000 mourners were drawn to the WanGuo funeral parlour, her funeral procession, on March 14, 1935, reached over three miles long -- and three women committed suicide during it. It was estimated that more than three hundred thousand people crowded the streets of Shanghai for her last journey. The front page of the New York Times pronounced it "the most spectacular funeral of the century."
Every magazine in Shanghai ran memorial issues in her honor. Even after her death, Tang was openly insulted and cursed by the press and Star Movie Studios openly declared they'd have no part in any mourning ceremony held by Tang Jishan, saying he was "a criminal who did harm to the whole movie world, being the direct cause of Ruan's suicide."
This even after some Ruan's last letters were published, described as "tender" towards Tang, in which Ruan asks Tang to take care of her mother and daughter. It matters not. In the movie world Tang is not recognized as Ruan's beloved, official husband; he is the man who murdered her with immorality.
Clearly neither of her lovers were very kind to her in many ways, and the press' field day with her choices and status as a woman, therefore less powerful and respected, was more than she could bear.
In one of the letters written before her suicide, she writes in grief-stricken self-defense of her actions, saying that while she's aware that she's taking a risk that some may take her suicide as an evidence of some guilt, she'd rather die than to continue to face the public slander.
In her suicide note, she wrote, "Gossip is a fearful thing."
Lu Xun (Lu Hsün; Zhou Shuren), a prominent writer at the time, took that phrase and made it the title of an article denouncing the media's exploitation of Ruan. Of the media and Xun's article, however, Stefania Stafutti has some pointed things to say. In The Perception of Privacy: The Case of Ruan Lingyu (published in the International Journal of Afro-Asiatic Studies) she writes (link added by SPS):
Only the (male oriented) society control over human beings is questioned together with the dramatic fear of loosing one’s own face, but nothing is said on the individual right of carrying on one’s private life with no external interferences. Even if once more referring in general terms to “the feudal society of old China” the Min bao is the only journal which stigmatizes the backwardness of the film-goers, who simply like twisting the knife in the wound: the perception of privacy is strictly connected with people’s perception on what is to be "hidden" and what is to be "protected". With his article published under the pen name Mu Hui on Tai bai, which title “Gossip is a fearful thing” is picked up from one of Ruan’s letters, left behind after her suicide, Lu Xun goes to the core of the problem. As Eileeen J. Cheng points out in a recent article Lu Xun is fascinated by dead women, especially those who are somehow victimized by the society At the same time their choice of dieing is seen as having a cathartic and rather ambiguous function. The blame put on the wild circulation of details on Ruan’s personal life expresses Lu Xun strong objection against the circulation of exploitative images of women but, at the same time, strips the women of their gender issues, to sit them on a throne of purity which radically prevents them from enjoying or inducing any idea of pleasure As a matter of fact, Lu Xun stigmatizes much more the voyeuristic attitude of the readers and of the film goers than the total lack of scruple of the sensationalistic press. Being Lu Xun perfectly conscious of the enormous power of the press, who would rather expect him being more indulgent with the common readers. He goes much farer than Min bao, almost attributing to the readers a sort of cannibalization of their victims (a topic dear to Lu Xun!): “[Ruan Lingyu and Ai Xia] deaths are like but adding a few grains of salt to the boundless ocean; even though it fills bland mouths with some flavour, after a while everything is still bland, bland, bland”. Lu Xun’s utter repugnance for the mass miserable appetites cannot simply be regarded as an “ascetic” gaze towards the female world.
It is true, however, that the press kept a full-press on Ruan & her death.
Stafutti writes of it as a "voyeuristic attitude, even transgressing into the kitsch," as the media described in great detail her corpse, how it was dressed, how her hair was styled, and "about the hopeless Zhang Damin, who wiping two blood drops from Ruans’s mouth seems to have stated that they have to be considered her last gift to him." The media even missed the irony of reporting on Ruan's mother crying to the press that they were to blame for her daughter's death, saying, “It’s all because of you. You killed her. You will reckon with me.”
It would be easy to follow suit here and, 73 years later, discuss Ruan in terms of public out-cry and media portrayals, comparing them to similar gossip witch hunts of today... But I'd like to let Ruan's life and choices speak for her.
Her acting is brilliant -- and plentiful. In less than 10 years she made nearly three times that many films... 29 films in 9 years. Amazing films too, from the ones I've seen.
In them she explored female advancement & exploitation; a rigid patriarchial & feudal system built on class, which maltreated (if not out-right abused) women and men alike, yet was perpetuated by both genders; and a warm naiveté which, even should innocence be lost -- and find itself punished for its supposed immorality, could outlast & outshine the old & cold hierarchical social structure.
For her suffering heroines, Ruan was compared to Garbo; but I think Ruan Lingyu and her luminous acting stands on its own.
SPS: I was reading about Greenleaf and the apparently surprising popularity of gay works at that time... It is said now that many women are fans of such books and films -- straight women are the primary fans of written works and lesbians a large part of film sales. At the time you were producing gay publications for Greenleaf did you notice this?
Earl: I did notice how very popular the genre was, and that it was almost totally forbidden at the time. I also noticed that female writers (even straight ones) of lesbian material were off the wall possessive of their opinions that were often in conflict with our editors and our sales. Also numbers of straight male writers wrote gay novels. Also purchasers of gay material were more willing to pay for quality up to and including the type of paper the books were printed on.
These days, I find very little difference between our '60s books and modern bestsellers. Except perhaps that females use more dirty words and figure more prominently in them...as writers and readers and especially as protagonists on the prowl. Harlequin grown up and no holds barred for female readers.
SPS: Your comments about female reading materials is a bit foreign to me personally... I do know that it's said that women are the majority of book buyers, but as for that formula, it's not really me.
Earl: Locally they appear to be in the majority. Most local men would deny that they ever read any book.
SPS: What's on Earl Kemp's "must read" list?
Earl: I don't have one. I enjoy William Diehl very much. I can tolerate an occasional James Patterson but sure wish he had some Creative Writing classes and an editor and a proofreader. Some of my old friend writers still thrill me these days, notably Lawrence Block and Donald Westgate. Even Hunter did it too until he died, but in all of their books I find myself and our common past and all the things we learned how to do together.
I momentarily forgot (it's difficult to remember quickly and make snappy comments) two of my all time favorites, Elmore Leonard who can write no wrong and Larry McMurtry.
SPS: "Ahh," she said nodding.
I'm not certain I can articulate what resonates about that, nor follow it up with anything. If I were talking my thoughts, I'd open my mouth as if to speak then think better of it; then repeat the process several times. It's rare anyone can move me to such a silence.
Is this, do you think, the same for your dislike of TV, films etc... This lack of being able to find yourself there?
On the other hand, that seems a bit odd for a man who was hooked by other worlds... But then not feeling 'at home here' seems to have been a common theme I hear/read from sf authors.
I realize there is no direct question there. Just a few scattered thoughts. I might have been better off just keeping my mouth shut.
Earl: Oh, no. I always find myself there. At times even before the film begins or the novel opens. I am the original "reader identification" guy.
Of course. I was never "at home there." I was born into a foreign place with a language that I never understood among people doing nothing very slowly. A stranger and afraid in a world I never made. I didn't come alive until around the age of 30 and wasn't born a human until I was divorced. I'm still trying to shake off my teenage years and become an adult.
[As for keeping your mouth shut] You don't learn/exchange anything that way.
SPS: Given that sf was such a 'family' community before, I have to ask about Tiptree...
What did you think of her? Her writing? Did her stand-offishness affect your connection/appreciation? Did her secret affect your opinions of her &/or her writing?
Earl: I have no thoughts about her. She's after my time. I've never read anything by her.
SPS: How can Tiptree be after your time? You're still here. You're still reading. An aversion, perhaps?
Earl: Possibly. I think I explained that when I was a working editor I had not the slightest chance of reading for personal pleasure. Now I do. Now I'm very selective in who wrote it and whatever it is that I think I want to read. Currently around a novel a day with a little nonfiction thrown in for grins.
Forty-five autographed love letters from Katina Paxinou to Sir Sydney Waterlow, dated April, 1938, to June, 1939, together with some 30 love letters by Waterlow to Paxinou are to be auctioned off in London on July 17th.
Sir Sydney Waterlow (1878-1944) was British Minister in Athens from 1933 to 1939. According to one of the present letters, he met the actress Katina Paxinou on 12 April 1938, a date which they both viewed as a moment of "rebirth", when they became "fully alive" for the first time. It was evidently a coup de foudre for them both, and the present letters testify not only to the physical passion but the depth of feeling on both sides.
Katina Paxinou (1900-1973) was a member of the Greek National Theatre company, where she was directed by her husband Alexis Minotis. Besides the role of Electra, she was well-known for playing Mrs Alving in Ghosts, and Hedda Gabler.
At the beginning she protests that she is asking for nothing more than to be loved, and that she is content to remain on the sidelines
"...tu dois me connaître déjà assez pour être persuadé que je ne demande rien que ton amour! Tu n'es pas libre j'en conviens! Mais je n'abuserai jamais de ta faiblesse comme tu la nommes et je ne veux qu'être aimée de toi. Je ne veux pas troubler ta vie. Tu le sais..."
Later, however, plans start to be made for when they are "free" and can be together permanently. In one letter she describes a painful scene with her husband, whom she is unable to comfort, assuring Waterlow that this is nothing to do with him and that things would have been the same in any case ("...je ne peux plus le consoler et j'en souffre car il mérite un meilleur sort..."). Elsewhere she relates somewhat pathetically how she has waited for half an hour outside the English church in Athens in the hope of catching a glimpse of him, or walked past his house gazing up at the windows even when she knows he is not there, expresses her maternal affection towards his daughter, asks him somewhat apologetically to get her a big pot of Elizabeth Arden face cream which she uses to counteract the effects of her stage make-up, recounts a number of her dreams (often of an erotic nature) of being alone with him in a little love nest, and recalls the afternoons they were able to spend together
"...oh nos chers après midi où tu m'attendais étendu dans ton lit, et où je venais comme une voleuse par le balcon vite vite toute tremblante me fourrer à tes côtes, me blottir contre ton coeur..."
After a period of nervous collapse from exhaustion she promises to look after her health for his sake, and describes somewhat sheepishly a visit to a fortune teller who described their situation with uncanny accuracy.
(Apparently, The Episcopalian Church counts on Americans not to recall that Henry VIII killed two wives -- even after he broke with Catholicism so that he could get a divorce annulment of the marriage to his first wife. To secure such right to annul, he executed along the way. Forgiveness? My definition must be different... Unless Episcopalians are expecting forgiveness for calculated murders and other crimes; which could be a mighty fine religious selling point for some.)
But going back to history, I have always sustained that through advertising you can tell a lot about a country's psychology.
In that sense, the same goes for the history of advertising. When seeing ads from the past, is easy to realize how our habits, manners and values have changed. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worst.
But as with our own pictures, where most of the time we couldn't believe we were wearing that or using that hair style, old advertising becomes the photo album of us as a society.
Jim's lucky enough to own a risqué Ma Belle phone by Bob Ebers. He left a few tidbits of info in the comments on that post, and was kind enough to send along the following with photos of his cool phone:
The handset was meant to be dark sunglasses. The nipples still light up when the phone rings. She really gets excited when someone calls.
You can tell mine is a later model than the one in the blog post because of the flush recessed dial. Mine is numbered 375 of 400.
Soon after 1975, Bob stopped making these phones. He considered himself an artist, and even though these phones were profitable, it was no longer a creative outlet.
Thanks, Jim; and if you should ever tire of her... Think of me *wink* PS For some reason Blogger isn't showing the flashing image -- you can see it here.
The Pre-Raphaelite artists, such as Dante Gabriel Rossetti, were a big influence on Klimt’s brother Ernst. When Ernst died Klimt finished his brother’s Pre-Raphaelite-inspired work. During his long depression he became very interested in these artists, and then painted what is for me the most important picture he did at this time – Portrait of Sonja Knips from 1898. Moll saw this Pre-Raphaelite influence and how Klimt could work with it to create a very particular Viennese art.
Herbert Lachmayer:
Yes, it is important to know that Viennese artists were able to avoid copying the melancholy of the Pre-Raphaelites because of their sense of irony and ambiguity. Depression was the most feared danger for a creative artist – ironical melancholy was the Viennese solution. In Klimt’s case, he transformed the rather boring aspects of the Pre-Raphaelites and injected “pornosophic fantasies” into his work. By pornosophic, I mean the way in which he presented his idea of erotic obsession as a life-long fetishistic love for the porno-details of the female body. Like Egon Schiele, he has been stigmatised as a pornographic artist, but in my understanding his erotic obsession was a pornosophia, just as philosophy is defined as a “love for wisdom”. Using the term “pornographic” regarding Klimt’s oeuvre reveals the petit bourgeois mentality of the person using it. He was a master of voyeuristic erotic stimulation and therefore produced his pornosophic fantasies in the head of the client – maybe encouraging him in an elegant way to have better sex at least. Even the way Klimt dressed was part of a “staging” of stimulation. In his studio he wore a long working dress – resembling a Moroccan jellaba – but he was completely naked underneath. He was a highly auto-erotic exhibitionist, using the ritual of professional distance from the model as a tool of auto-stimulating his erotic fantasies.
ALFRED WEIDINGER We must not forget that Klimt had been used to working with nude models for a long time. Not only at art school, where they did nude studies every day, but also with his colleagues at the Künstlercompagnie. So he had fifteen or twenty years’ practice, and was fully sensitised to the female body and spirit. For me, it was very interesting to realise, in doing my research, that whereas most of the female figures featured in the Künstlercompagnie ceilings are clothed, in the studies they are all nude. You will not find many drawings where the models are dressed. He had to know what happened with the body, and then he dressed it.
HERBERT LACHMAYER So Klimt’s artistic production was almost like a drug – painting the nude increased the voyeuristic appeal.
ALFRED WEIDINGER In this respect the Beethoven Frieze became his masterwork, because it was the fulfillment of everything that he wanted to do at this time in 1902. The 14th Vienna Secessionist exhibition was designed to celebrate the life and philosophy of Beethoven with the theme based on Richard Wagner’s interpretation of the 9th Symphony, and each Secession artist contributed to it. Klimt’s idea was to do a 30ft fresco. You have to wonder why was he doing a fresco – and with such huge dimensions? It was unheard of to be creating such a piece in Europe, for a show that was going to be on for only two months.
HERBERT LACHMAYER It was like a Hollywood production…
ALFRED WEIDINGER Or like a show in Las Vegas. It really was a grand act. In the frieze Klimt knew he could more or less fulfil his wishes. He had the power to do something on this scale, and Moll gave him that power. The Beethoven Frieze didn’t cause a scandal, though. Of course there were always art critics who wrote bad reviews of Klimt, but there were some who wrote good ones. He and the Secession artists knew they needed a reason to put images of nude women on the wall, and in Beethoven they found it.
ALFRED WEIDINGER Another difference is that Klimt uses all kinds of women in his frieze – young girls, old girls, awful women, beautiful women, fat women, thin women. The whole world of women is in the Beethoven Frieze. There are also a lot of penises in the painting, which, because of the distance from the floor level, many people miss. I was there a few weeks ago because we had to do some restoration work and when you are level with it, there they are – lots of penises. He painted them as ornament, but this was also a very brave and risky thing to do. He was gambling with the visitors – he was having fun with them. It is important to know that side of him.
HERBERT LACHMAYER In this respect he was a professional voyeur and knew, of course, what unconscious effects his images would evoke in the minds of his male audience. Klimt had his own erotic theatre in his studio at home.
The whole article is worth reading in it's entirety; so do so.
Dorm Room Rabbit Doll For College Men Who Went On Panty Raids & Read Playboy
Zine Girls is offering this vintage 24" plush "Collegiate Rabbit Doll", which is said to be a mail order only official Playboy item offered in the 50's & 60's.
These are the details:
- White cloth doll with Plush head and hands - Rabbit wears a College Letterman Sweater with white "P" - White corduroy pants with Plastic Shoes - Glossy Button eyes, black yarn Mouth, pink felt Nose
I don't just say that as a jealous bitch either; I have my own rack of ample (read: always considering breast reduction) proportions, thank-you-very-much, and while mine doesn't sit a-top a petite 5'2" frame gravity doesn't seem to care. Gravity, like any breast lover, is willing to reach higher to pluck each by the nipple and pull them down. Repeatedly.
Some have asked how Virginia "Ding Dong" Bell's bra managed to hold those breasts up. But the answer is the bra did not; like pasties it just sat where it was placed.
Even as a younger model, you can see Bell arching, with raised arms, to keep her breasts "up". I know it's a rather standard pose, but Bell seems to use it far more often to get lift (and separation of breast from ribcage) than just to proffer boobies to men.
My guess is gravity.
Such a position -- with such a load -- must have been more to bear than any decision to bare.
Here's a (very) short clip of her burlesque routine.
And we finish with my favorite Virginia Bell photo. Perhaps I just too readily identify with the relief of the water carrying the load for awhile; but I do find it sexy as hell.
Those Of Us Old Enough To Remember Ronnie's Presidency
Always knew that he loved the sort of strong women who wore the pants in the family.
(This joke only works if you know that Jane Wyman, seated between Edward G. Robinson & Groucho Marx, was Ronald Reagan's first wife.)
Photo of the three stars in drag at a Hollywood party in 1947; yes, Ronnie and Jane were still married then. Wonder if we can find a photo of him in drag?
A purpose of this memoir, Mr. McMurtry writes, is to “raise ghosts” of booksellers past, in the same way that Booked Up has become an “anthology” of their wares. In 1950, when Fourth Avenue was bookstore row, Manhattan had 175 bookstores. The online business that replaced them, Mr. McMurtry laments, is precise and efficient but lacks the human contact and serendipity of poring through shelves of dust in search of treasure.
3) The debate on "the sensuality of children" continues in the Australian art world: one side, the other. Personally, I think concerned people need to take a real look at the definition of "sensual" and discover that it's not necessarily erotic; but I am glad to see this covered as a conversation.
4) The Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual Transgender (GLBT) Historical Society announced plans to open a new exhibit in the Castro district later this year -- if it can raise enough money. (Hint Hint) Kudos to Out in America for giving it press; a hand slap for not including an actual link to the historical society.
From The Mail and Empire, Toronto, dated March 23, 1935, comes this clipping of the story for a renewed search for Maud Gillespie -- 40+ years after she was "kidnapped by Indians".
Leaving definitions & connotations of the word "squaw" to those far more suited to such endeavors (and I highly recommend you read it; regardless of your initial interest), I'm fascinated by such a story...
So many details are missing... Like the age of Maud when she was "kidnapped" or otherwise disappeared... Why her family members aren't listed by names, rather than crediting John Findlay... And, of course, did they find her?
"A few weeks after my return from St. Paul and Aeneas, there was another disappearance. It occurred hundreds of miles from the old home of Aeneas. About five miles from Thessalon, on the shore of Georgian Bay in the district of Manitoulin, lived a family of farmers named Gillespie. There was a pretty thirteen-year-old daughter, Maud Gillespie. Early in August 1888 she went out to pick berries and did not return. She was seen last near a trout stream, and a bully good trout stream it is, as I happen to know. Searching parties went out and hunted for days, but could find no trace of the child. On August 11th I went up to Thessalon and began another search. I organised parties and apportioned the territory, and sent some on foot and others in boats, and for days and nights we scoured the islands and the shores of Georgian Bay. We visited scores of Indian camps, and pushed on into the wilds, but could not find her. I knew she had no life insurance, and was not a county treasurer, and that her disappearance therefore was not suspicious, so far as she was concerned. Her parents were well-nigh distracted, and I determined to make a final effort to find her. With a small party I went far up to remote Indian camps, and in one of them I found an old squaw, who nodded and grunted to me, and I went outside with her.
"'White girl?' she asked.
"I nodded. The old squaw held out her hand.
"'Give,' she grunted. 'Give.'
"I drew out some money. She sniffed. I felt in my pockets. I had a couple of trout flies in some tinfoil; I took them out. The old squaw seized the glittering tinfoil eagerly, taking my last trout flies with it. She tucked it in her jet black hair, coarse as a horse's tail.
"'Me — see — white girl,' she muttered slowly. 'She go — so — so — so ——,' and she waved far north with her long arm.
"'Alone?' I asked. 'She go alone? Indian take white girl?'
"But the old squaw only grunted and played with the tinfoil and trout flies in her hair. We searched farther north, and twice we heard from Indians of a white girl who had passed that way. When further trailing was hopeless we turned back and made our way to Thessalon. It was a long, hard tramp. On the fourth day I came to the trout stream, where the little girl last was seen. I was tired, and I stretched full length on the ground and idly gazed at the blue sky through the trees, and then rolled over and stared at the water. It was a lovely stream. It glided beneath the over- growth into a broad, deep pool, on whose placid surface the reflection of the waving trees rose and fell amid patches of mirrored blue. Farther down the stream narrowed and rippled over rocks, splashing and gurgling as it went. But there must be no drifting aside into a fish story. I lolled by the stream until my men came up, and we moved on. No further trace of little Maud Gillespie was found, and I returned to Toronto. Fifteen years passed. In May 1903 a surveying party was exploring in New Ontario north of Lake Superior, over four hundred miles from the Gillespie home. They came upon a white woman living with the Indians in the wilderness. She was the wife of a big chief. She possessed a rare beauty of the wilds, yet was not wholly like her associates. She lived as an Indian, and exposure had tanned her a deep, dark brown. At first she was unable to talk with the white men, then gradually her power of speech in English returned until she could talk brokenly and remember a few English words. She finally recalled her name, Maud Gillespie, and her mother. They asked her if she wished to go back to her mother. She said she did, and they communicated with her people and she went back to them, a woman almost thirty years old. She had gone away a little girl of thirteen, fond of her mother, and constantly talking or singing in her childish way. She returned a silent, reserved woman, with the habits and manner and speech of an Indian. She had lost her language, she had become an Indian. Gradually her people are winning her back. It is like taming a wild creature, but eventually the inborn instincts will assert themselves, and much of the Indian life will fall away. They have been teaching her to speak her own language again, and she readily learned anew the songs she sang as a little child.
"This loss of language is a singular thing. I met an Englishman in South America who had lost his language, and he was distressed almost to distraction because of it. I have seen other cases, too, passing strange."
While there is a huge difference between the "more than forty years" the newspaper clipping claims and the fifteen years stated in Murry's memoir (memoirs themselves are imperfect recollections, and there is even some confusion regarding the memoir itself *), and this clipping was apparently published some 30 years after Murray's memoir (did she return to her Native American life and they went looking for her again?), there at least seems to be some proof to the story of Maud Gillespie... Or it's a continuing spoof story.
In my research I also discovered that there is another Findlay connection: Ralph Findlay, who did have a brother named John, was murdered and Murray was on the case.
Murray’s effectiveness is demonstrated by the first case in which he was involved after taking up his full-time appointment, an inquiry into the murder of Ralph Findlay, a Lambton County farmer. While local constables scurried about seeking clues to the perpetrator, suspecting that it was a stranger surprised while stealing horses, the county attorney, Julius Poussett Bucke, demanded the assistance of the government detective. It was Murray, it appears, who wrung a confession from the dead man’s wife that she had assisted her lover in the deed.
You can read Murry's recollection of the events in chapter XV of his memoir, in which he dates the murder to September of 1875, and describes a rather noble John Findlay.
* According to the University of Toronto, the first published edition of Memoirs of a Great Detective: Incidents in the Life of John Wilson Murray was published in London in 1904, without a mention of Victor Speer; however Speer is identified (as compiler and editor respectively) in the Toronto and New York editions of the book the following year.
i) a collection of fifteen photographs of Greta Garbo (Gustaffson), her classmates and 'Aunt Gustafsson', chiefly original prints, one of the portraits the only print to survive from the six copies which Garbo herself ordered from a professional photographer but then tore up, ranging in size from a small passport-size portrait of her in 1918 to large school class photographs of c.165 x 230mm. (plus mounts), chiefly c.1915-1930, traces of mounting
ii) an early autograph postcard signed "G.G." by Garbo (Greta Gustafsson), sending greetings in Swedish, written in pencil, with a mock-postage stamp also drawn in pencil
[literal translation:] "May the sun of joy [shine] its rays in such a way upon you on your celebration day, may happiness not stray from you I wish that out of my heart"
Garbo delivered this card herself after school through Lisa Fager's letterbox.
iii) an autograph four-line note signed by Garbo ("G.G."), in Swedish, written in ink on a magazine illustration
[literal translation:] "...Hanne how sweet I think you are. I have seen you so many times and all equally enchanting..."
iv) two autograph postcards written to Lisa Fager by Greta Garbo's brother Sven Gustafsson, in Swedish, sending greetings from a festive Paris and from London, 1928-1930
Some of this material is illustrated in John Wallin's book Garbo: En stjärnas väg (Stockholm, 1955), a copy of which is included in the lot.
I'm not sure if I have this book or not... (My shelves, they sag & buck like a wild horse; and if it weren't for the boxes full of books in front of them, they'd likely tip over. Yes, organization is on the "to do" list.)
But even if I have a copy (or three) of 1961's Sexual Behavior Of The American Housewife, by W.D. Sprague Ph.D., it likely wouldn't include these marks. (Click image to read them.)
Marks and notations are something I'd never leave in a book; as a tribute to the countless kind and helpful librarians in my youth (and today too), I've never even dog-eared a page. But when I find them, I am fascinated. As is Ann Douglas, poster of these images at Flickr, who says:
My favorite part of this entire book -- the housewife title I just posted -- is this page spread. I think it's hilarious how someone (the not-so-happy wife) marked these passages with huge lines and giant X-es. I wonder if she "accidentally" left the book on bed for hubby to find one night when she was late getting home to make dinner, with the book open to the page with the mysterious markings. It makes you wonder.
The Miracle Mile. These are places that no longer exist, but look/sound like they were a blast back in the 70s/80s:
- The Slot, 575 Folsom - The Stables, 1123 Folsom - Red Star Saloon, 1145 Folsom (15 cent drafts and 15 cent hot dogs! OMG. I would have been there all the time!!) - The Hungry Hole Saloon, 1190 Folsom - Fobos, 11th and Folsom - The Cave, 280 7th - SF Plunge, 11th and Folsom - Folsom Prison - Trench - The Bolt
Geriatric Gays, please confirm/deny. School my generation about times of the past. Thank you for your fealty.
How's a man supposed to choose between Josie & Alexandra, Betty & Veronica, or Ginger & Mary Anne? Well, he chooses the girl who promises the most pie, of course.
With such good looks and publicity which boasted of shopping for antiques in the shop of fellow actor and friend,Eddie Nugent it's easy to think this man was gay.
But Robert Montgomery wasn't gay; he fathered the adorable Elizabeth Montgomery too.
Originally commissioned in 1934 as part of Dulac's series 'Follies that Destroyed Famous Queens' for the cover of the periodical American Weekly, this illustration was abandoned. It has been suggested that Dulac redrew the picture after deciding that the domed buildings in the background should have chimneys. The final published version also included other additions (an earring for Dido, for example). Of Dulac's final version, Colin White has written 'Dido's agonized yearning as she leans against a zebra skin, itself a most skilful piece of painting, looking down on the departing Æneas far below, is masterly' (Colin White, Edmund Dulac, London, 1976, p.161)
I dare say this was rejected not because buildings lacked chimneys, but because Dido was lacking nipple.
But then many men worry much about chimneys & other things upright, and less about a woman's nipples.
Ever wonder what Gloria Brame would say? Now you can find out, live.
I'm very excited to have Dr. Gloria Brame on Cult of Gracie Radio Wednesday, July 9th (at 9 P.M. central), on XXBN ~ and not just because she calls me "the divine Gracie Passette --sex-kitten and all around erotic goddess" either. *wink*
As you know (or ought to!), Gloria's a licensed clinical sexologist, leading international authority on BDSM and fetish sex, and a wise-cracking kinky person. What's not to love?
Can you guess the make and the model? The model on the make? *wink* How about a year for this photo which was obviously not taken at a commercial auto show...
The New York Times reported in 1935 that the national speed skating champion had married George Nichols, a boxer from Sandusky, but they had never actually lived together.
In London on July 17th, Sothbey's will auction off a collection of case notes on autopsies, records kept by Sir Bernard Spilsbury in a wooden filing cabinet with four drawers, each labeled 1905-17, 1918-1927, 1928-30, and 1931-32. Who was Sir Spilsbury?
the professional records of the father of professional forensic pathology. Bernard Spilsbury (1877-1947) was the foremost pathologist of his day, with a formidible reputation as an expert witness: "his opinions were so impregnable he could achieve single-handed all the legal consequences of a homicide - arrest, prosecution, conviction, and final post-mortem - requiring only the brief assistance of the hangman" (quoted in Rose, p.xix). The post of Honorary Pathologist to the Home Office was created for Spilsbury, who made his name with some of the most famous English murders of the twentieth century, such as the Crippen case, the "Brides in the Bath" murders, the Voisin case, and the Brighton trunk murders, and who conducted over 20,000 autopsies during a career that lasted over forty years. Spilsbury was a media celebrity - Britain's "living successor to mythical Sherlock Holmes" (Time, 2 July 1934) - and was the original figure of the infallible forensic pathologist that is so familiar in contemporary crime fiction. According to his obituary in The Lancet, Spilsbury "stood alone and unchallenged as our greatest medico-legal expert". Recent research has shown, however, that the awe in which Spilsbury was held, combined with his own inflexible opinions, led to a number of miscarriages of justice, including several wrongful executions.
While Sotheby's won't let us look at what is inside, they will tell us some of the tantalizing details from the nearly 4,000 3x5 index cards:
There are many stories recorded in these terse notes, from horrific examples of neglect and abuse to bizarre cases such as the unfortunate Helen Elphinston-Dalrymple, who died of the effects of a dry shampoo applied at the Harrods salon in 1909. On 12 February 1918 Spilsbury performed an autopsy on 16 year-old Nellie Trew, and also examined her clothing for blood and semen: she had been raped then strangled on Eltham Common. The subsequent trial has recently been described by Rose as "one of the most blatant" miscarriages of British justice of the 20th century. Spilsbury's notes for 16 June 1919 record the autopsy of a 72 year-old widower who had been admitted to hospital two days previously: "He stated that on June 13 he had glass of beer ... Then stopped by 2 men who offered him whiskey. Drank 2 tablespoonfull which burnt his mouth". He had been given hydrochloric acid, which burnt through his stomach wall. In October 1923 Spilsbury examined the remains of a soldier, James Frederick Ellis ("H[anker]Chief & piece of cloth tied over mouth ... limbs had been tied ...when found body was reduced to skeleton except portion of lower limbs which were clothed in tight fitting garments..."), who suffocated as a result of masochistic sexual practices with another member of his regiment ("...he & Ellis proposed playing Cowboys & Indians & he trussed up Ellis who then told him that he was all right...").
My growing fascination with paint by numbers is largely due to the nudes. The popularity & repetitive nature pf PBNs seems to disprove the old, "If you've seen one, you've seen them all."
At CQ, Deanna gives a nifty history of Craft Master paint by numbers and, if you will, the founding fathers of the form. It's a very interesting read; and I suggest that you do as there may be a quiz. Or, at the very least, a very lengthy post -- or two, or more -- from me on the subject in the very near future.
Smarty-pant-smut-mongers will read ahead to stay at the head of the class.
The vintage nude PBN shown here is Craft Master Studio Nude "Jennifer" (1970). It has not been painted, save for a few attempted strokes, offering you the chance to paint your own art nude.
Every Man Thinks He Can Handle Two Pussies, But...
This man's face says that more than one pussy is rather perplexing.
Found in a 1957 (January, Nr 1) issue of Tidlösa, a vintage Swedish nudist publication. (Remember, that's "nudist publication" not "sexy men's magazine".)
It takes a minute to get used to the airbrushed nipples in this thing. I don't know why a Lingerie catalog would feature shots of unimpressed woman looking downward.
I guess that stallion doesn't know of the submissive female gaze.
If you've been having difficulty seeing what I see here, perhaps this post will help.
Snopes investigates -- and confirms -- that an illustration from withdrawn Yellow Pages ad reveals risqué image when a portion of it is viewed upside-down.
There are a few other examples at Snopes of this image in advertising too.
Time was that silhouette was a naughty word -- which only goes to prove that we live in a changing world. France, in 1759, had a comptroller general whose name was "Monsieur Silhouette." He introduced a number of taxes so odious that the mere mention of his name in polite society could mean pistols at dawn. Just how this epithet gradually shed its shady meaning and came to connote the outline of an object is lost in the pages of history. We chose the name SILHOUETTE for our magazine as a compliment to you... your clothes, your personality, and the home that is a gracious setting for the special beauty that is yours alone.
The art of silhouette cutting originated in Europe in the early 1700's. Prior to the French revolution, silhouettists were hired as an amusement for the royal class. The featured artist would attend the many extravagant balls and cut out the distinguished profiles of the Lords and Ladies capturing the latest fashions and elaborate wigs.
While the aristocrats were having their silhouettes cut out and eating like kings much of Europe was starving, especially in France. In the 1760's the Finance Minister of France, Etienne de Silhouette, had crippled the French people with his merciless tax polices. Oblivious to his people's plight, Etienne was much more interested in his hobby of cutting out paper profiles, the latest fad. Etienne de Silhouette was so despised by the people of France that in protest the peasant s wore only black mimicking his black paper cutouts. The saying went all over France,"We are dressing a la Silhouette. We are shadows, too poor to wear color. We are Silhouettes!" To this very day the black profile cutouts are called silhouettes. Thankfully, the negative connotation no longer remains.
However, artists like Kara Walker are resurrecting the art, using it to explore negative issues such as racism and feminism.
“I was looking at racist paraphernalia, iconography, and then at these accurate versions of middle-class Americans. I began to associate the silhouette itself, the cutting, with a form of blackface minstrelsy. Here we have these mainly white sitters or a few slaves who were documented in silhouette—but for the most part white sitters whom I identify as middle class because upper class would require a full-fledged oil portrait and that’s what I had already ruled out for myself…’No oil painting here, not going to ape the master that way.’”
“I always think about this work, this history, in terms of the body. And in terms of this act of excavating that’s been such a current and recurring theme, particularly in the histories of feminist artists, feminist writers, African-American people of color, investigating and eviscerating this body of collective experience…sometimes to the point of leaving nothing intact. I entered into this project, this idea of being a black woman artist, from the perspective of a person who has been presented with a pre-dissected body to work from. A pre-dissected body of information.”
Kara Walker's Gone, An Historical Romance of a Civil War as It Occurred Between the Dusky Thighs of One Young Negress and Her Heart (1994) from The New York Times.
Other image credits: Kara Walker silhouette via The Whitney.
Open for biding is 1 outlawed paint by number nude painting of a german women.
The painting is dated and signed.This picture was outlawed as the company went to all other painting seens accept nude paintings.
The painting is in a frame under glass in excellent condition with a lovely petina.
The painting aged nicely and my photo's do not do this pasintings petina justice.
You wil not see any of these on ebay as they were made for a very short time.
Please look on ebay in past or present auction and you will not see a paint by number painting such as this.
For collectors of paint by number paintings this is a once in a lifetime chance to own a rare collectable such as this outlawed paint by number nude German women.
This paintings value will increase year by year as the few that have been made are being held by art collectors who are not selling these.I am selling the painting as is,(in excellect condition) this was made in the year of 1957 and was painted in 1959.
Grammar & spelling errors aside, I don't know how anyone with a feedback rating of 43 can boast something is rare with the "proof" that you'll not find another like it in their listings.
Rarity as far as "being pulled" is inconclusive at best. No company is listed, so I cannot research catalogs, and without the painting's number it would be a tough feat as most paint by number nudes were sold by number, without visual representation.
I snapped this at a gas station which has high trucker use. It's a crappy photo, taken quickly for fear a man would enter or exit the restroom, but in case you've never seen such a rest stop...
The display of men's mags is placed right outside the men's room, covering part of the doorway, to inspire an impulse purchase. However, it is accompanied by a sign reading, "Magazines must be purchased before taken in the restrooms. Thank You."
I asked for your help with this before, but apparently you don't like to read long posts. :sigh: (What is the world coming to when folks only want to see the dirty pictures?)
Anyway, you have to respond and tell me if I'm imagining things or not... What do you see here?
In the classic eighteenth-century sense, Casanova is a poor example of a libertine in that he had so little interest in conquest or coercion. He was no Valmont or de Sade. He is outclassed ten to one by his fictional alter ego Don Giovanni with his catalogue of 1800 conquests. Casanova's is not a compulsion or sex addiction. Indeed, he might not register at all as having a "Casanova" complex in the sense in which the term is used today. Rather, he enjoyed the game of love and seduction, a sport or art of unsurpassed fashionability in the generation that preceded the French Revolution. He narrates affairs, rather than one-night stands. Romantically, he was indefatigable.
In male fantasies, the myth of "the sexy lesbian happening" is bountiful. I discuss them -- and more -- in Of Pillow Fights & Panty Showing at Sex-Kitten.Net.
The question is, "Vintage or not, what have you learned from your porn today?"
The seller calls this photo "vulgar" -- literally, as in "VULGAR NUDE BRUNETTE Vintage 50s Photo LINGERIE FETISH".
Do you see anything vulgar about this?
Is the seller prudish?
Maybe I just look at too much smut.
Then again, being practical, "vulgar" can be a way to communicate -- in the collector's world -- that genitals are visible. But that's not the case here.
So I'd have to say this seller really doesn't have a clue. Not aesthetically, not as a seller of vintage smut.
Cruising the Collectors' Quest community I found "Silver lady" from Metal art by Barry2952:
This sculpture by Raymond Parmenter is solid silver. It was commissioned by the infamous Hunt brother who tried to corner the silver market. They made a lot of people a lot of money and had 50 of these made as gifts for their largest investors. The woman I acquired it from left it covered for 20 years so her grandson wouldn't see the nudity. I've let it patina to a natural shade.
I was digging through that Paramount folder again, looking at all the bits of paper & wondering why this or that was cut, torn or otherwise selected out of publications & designated as "keep". One bit that intrigues me is this bit of a page titled Hollywood Hurly Burly.
Host Conrad Hilton, hotel tycoon, flanked by Ann Miller, left, and Esther Williams.
Never at a loss on ways for having a party, Hollywood stars found an ideal cause for having a shindig and high-priced slapstick floor show -- with receipts going to charity.
Lana Turner, Debbie Reynolds, Ben Gage and Carleton Carpenter start off the hurly burly.
I believe there was more to the article but so far have only found this page. It appears to be intact because the flip-side, of Japanese Sumo wrestlers, has a page number (17) along the bottom. I show that to you now because A) some folks find sumo wrestlers sexy &/or B) you are a highly suspicious person (and with our current administration, who isn't?)
LUMBERING
Lumbering mountains of flesh collide as these two 400-pound Japanese Sumo wrestlers exhibit a mammoth display of brute strength. They look like Egyptian belly dancers as they try to heave each other over the rope.
James Victore is a dinner plate pirate. Spontaneously hijacking unsuspecting porcelain with a fat black paint pen, he marks his bounty with drawings of skulls and birds and fish (dead ones). And he’s not above the occasional slogan, either. “Vagina is for lovers,” anybody? What drives a a graphic designer / illustrator / raconteur with a widely recognized body of work to start tagging plates in public? What else? “I love the look and feel of a marker on the off-white plate surface, but I used to make them to meet girls.” He also used his plate drawings to entertain friends and waiters. Or should that be buy off waiters? “I thought they would be mad if they caught me, but they usually wanted one.”
Otto Peltzer Really Ran Cross Country; But Then With The Nazis, So Would You
Otto Peltzer was a German track hero in the Twenties, was vilified and jailed for his sexuality in the Thirties, survived a death camp in the Forties, then found a remarkable new life in the Sixties. Tim Pears tells the unknown story of the world-record holder who stayed true to the amateur ideal in Otto the strange: The champion who defied the Nazis.
If you want to contact me, post a note. If you wish to talk in private, Naughty dot Words at gmail dot com is the current solution -- however, if it's about link swaps, affiliate programs etc., read the FAQfirst!
If you insist on knowing more about me...
I've been interviewed on Radio Blowfish (direct link to the specific podcast download here).
Peter of
Jane's Guide says, "This blog site is perfectly charming. What an enjoyable time I had here. Your hostess, and the site, is named Silent Porn Star - with no doubt interesting and untold stories behind the name. The focus here is in curating - and celebrating - sexual iconography. I browsed the site's last couple of years of archives, hip hopping over such delights as old pulp fiction cover art, black & white vintage photography, occasional contemporary censorship issues, and even - to my delight - a link to a YouTube clip of Cher and Raquel Welch, all glitter-glamoured up in their prime and glory, singing Peggy Lee's "I'm A Woman". If that isn't as iconic as you could ask for, you're not looking. The commentary is smart, positive, and insightful. This is just the sort of unique site we love to encourage." (Silent Porn Star even made Peter's list of favorite sites!)
Cinema Retro says, "[A] gem of a site that will appeal to any libertines among our readers. Silent Porn Star is an addictive, often hilarious look at how sex and pornography has presented in pop culture over the last century. There are vintage postcards of topless Polynesian dancers, tasteful nude starlets of yesteryear and some delightfully distasteful photos and stories of more recent vintage. We don't expect too many contributors to Mike Huckabee's presidential campaign to patronize the site, but those of us who are proud to be less pure can have a field day looking through those old ads for movies about promiscuous teenagers as well as reveling in other forbidden delights. There's plenty to gawk at whether you're straight, gay or in between - fun for the entire family!"
"Required reading," and "When it comes to sex and collecting, there is no better blog to read because it is always about the sex and the collecting," says Shon Richards.
Blowfish Blog says, "Although the writing is warm and friendly, an aura Sphinx-like and cool surrounds Silent Porn Star. Written by a female collector of historical erotica and risque objects, in it we find out a great deal about a great many things, although not much about the author. But that is part of its charm; like an expert strip-tease, you think you see everything, and then realize that you only saw what you were permitted to. If you are a lover of historical smut, this site is simply mana from heaven, of course. But for everyone, the commentary is learned and witty, intellectual without being snobbish. And we learned so much about the mafia, too."
Starla of The Naughty Guide says: "The writing is elegant and flows off the screen with ease and the site is packed full of information. Some humorous, and some thought provoking. I am sure you will find something to tease your taste buds on this site."
Engaging in "rampant presentism," says anonymous. (Ha!)
Erotic Mandy of Sexy Blog Reviews says, "This is a sex blog of a more 'cerebral nature'," and gives Silent Porn Star 3/5 Orgasms because I'm, "interested in vintage sexuality and is probably quite smart."
Terra at The Naughty Guide gushes, "Silent Porn Star was a joy of a find for me, due to my fetish for vintage erotica. LOVE IT!! This is a blog that is a collection Vintage Erotica bringing it to us in one spot. It is a must visit for those of us that are curious or enthralled with the history of erotica. ...Content is slick, almost as if it was a commercially produced site. I usually read personal blogs, but this interest blog is one that I am adding to my daily read list."
Alternate post title: The Queen's Open-crotch Undies Sell For Nearly Nine Grand.
