Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Cheerio then, Gordon.










Despite what the right-wing foam-flecked press would have us believe, some of us will actually miss you, and did appreciate the things you did for the less-well-off in this country.

Er, because of course Gordon Brown is a regular reader of Existential Ennui. Ahem.

Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Show and Tell: Pocket Marvels – The First Trade Paperbacks?

I thought I'd bring these in to show the class today:













What are they? They're 160-page paperback reprints of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's original Amazing Spider-Man comics (and Amazing Fantasy #15, the first appearance of Spidey) from 1962-63, reformatted for a smaller size (175 x 110mm). Those are volumes one and two there, published in 1977 and 1978, both with typically alliterative forewords from Lee himself. They were published by Pocket in the States, but these are the UK versions, which were published by Wyndham – exactly the same as the US ones, except with different publisher logos on the cover.

I picked them up in a flea market in Brighton a few months ago, but I dimly recall reading one or both when I were a nipper in the late 1970s. Back then, these were pretty much the only way to read those old Amazing Spider-Mans, the odd reprint in the black-and-white weekly UK Spectacular Spider-Man comic aside. There was no such thing as trade paperbacks (i.e. book-length collections of comics) or graphic novels in those days, not as far as I was aware anyway, so these digest paperbacks were how I read Spidey's earliest adventures. And they're nice little books: on the imprint page it states they were "printed from brand-new plates", so the linework is really clean and the colours really vibrant.

So were these and the other digests like them (DC published some too I believe) the first trade paperbacks?

Wik-wikky-wikky-oh-my-gosh! It's The List!

And what a bumper list it is this week. I didn't bother going to the comic shop last week in the end, so there's at least one holdover from that week – Batman and Robin #12 – plus I wanted to have a look at I Zombie #1 and Brightest Day #1, so if they're still on the shelves I might pick them up as well.

And this week there's five fairly definite buys for me, plus another three maybes. My comicth cup runneth over. Let'th, er, I mean, let's get to the (fairly) definites first:













Batman: The Return of Bruce
Wayne #1 (of 6). For those who haven't been following the labyrinthine twists and turns of the DC Universe, which is to say anyone sane, Bruce Wayne, a.k.a. Batman, is dead. Or at least he was thought to be dead, having been virtually disintegrated in Final Crisis. But of course he's not really dead, merely lost in time. Always the way, innit? So now he's coming back from the undead, seemingly clawing his way across history (or rather DC history) over the course of six fortnightly issues. Go Bruce. Grant Morrison's writing it and the likes of Chris Sprouse and Frazer Irving are drawing it. Go Grant'n'Chris'n'Frazer.













Unwritten
#13. Still not feeling this series as much as I felt the same creators' Lucifer (y'feel me?), still reading it anyway. Go figure.













Siege #4. Final issue of this miniseries, which rounds off two or three years of Marvel's Dark Reign schtick, whereby Norman 'Green Goblin' Osborn and his evil chums found themselves in charge of running tings in the Marvel Universe. It was a nice idea, and it started well, but as ever with these things it dragged on too long. Inevitably, there are a bunch of tie-ins to this last issue, but luckily two of them – both written by Brian Michael Bendis, the same writer as on Siege – are comics I'd be getting anyway, namely:













Dark Avengers
#16. I think this is the final issue of this one. I've enjoyed bits of this series, but I won't be sorry to see it end. And:













New Avengers Finale. This has been one of my favourite regular comic books of the past five years or so. I would be sad to see it go, but it's not really going anywhere; it's getting a new number 1 in like a month's time. Such is the way with comics. Bryan Hitch drew this one. Judging by that cover he hasn't finished yet. Come on son, get a shift on. It's out tomorrow!

So those are the five (fairly) definites. Also on a Siege tip, there's something called Fallen out. I have no idea what it is, as Marvel haven't released a cover or any information on what it's about, who wrote it, who drew it... anything. This happens quite a lot these days, the reasoning being Marvel don't want to spoil the surprise. But all it does is make me less interested in buying the bloody thing. So I probably won't. Ha. Screw you, Marvel.

And there's a few other things I wanna take a look at:













War of the Supermen
#1 and #2. I haven't been following the whole 'New Krypton' storyline – the Superman comics have been a bit rubbish for a few years now – but I'm sort of jonesing for some Superman action, so if I see these I might pick 'em up. And:













Amazing Spider-Man #630 and 631. I really don't like the current 'retro' take on Spidey, but these have Chris Bachalo on art, and I love me some Chris Bachalo. Oh yeah.

Sunday, 9 May 2010

Patricia Highsmith Shelf Porn

And for today's second post, here's a little more shelf porn for you, this time featuring my Patricia Highsmith collection:











Probably a little hard to work out what's what down the far end there, so here's a full frontal shot:











Phwoar. From right to left: first UK editions (all Heinemann – apart from the final two, which were published by Bloomsbury – all hardback, all action, all the time) of The Two Faces of January, The Cry of the Owl, The Glass Cell, A Suspension of Mercy, Those Who Walk Away, Ripley Under Ground, A Dog's Ransom, Ripley's Game, Little Tales of Misogyny (short story collection – very dark, quite amusing, and a good insight into Highsmith's views on women), Edith's Diary, People Who Knock on the Door, The Boy Who Followed Ripley, Found in the Street, Ripley Under Water, and Small g: A Summer Idyll. And on the top are a Penguin paperback of The Tremor of Forgery, a first (and very rare) Corgi paperback edition of Strangers on a Train, and first Pan paperback editions of The Talented Mr. Ripley, The Blunderer (which I'm reading at the moment), and Deep Water.

Phew. I've been collecting Highsmiths for a couple of years now, so that's not a bad little collection. And it strikes me it might be a useful resource (for, er, no one in particular) to do a post with pictures of all the UK first editions at some point. I don't have them all, of course, but I've got the lion's share, and I'm sure I can find images of the ones I'm missing. Hmm...

Gavin Lyall Book Bonanza

And what a bonanza it was. The girlf and I took a trip over to Camilla's bookshop in Eastbourne at the weekend, going further along the coast to Hastings first to check out a couple of bookshops there. One of those was heaving with tatty paperbacks but not really anything of interest, and the other was shut. Well, the lights were on, and the owner was drifting about inside with a glass of wine in his hand, but when I tried to go in he shook his head solemnly. Bernard Black is alive and well and living in Hastings it seems. What's the point of having a bookshop if you're not gonna let people in to have a look? No wonder second hand bookshops are dying on their arses. Silly old prick.

Anyway, after that we headed back to Eastbourne and spent a happy hour in Camilla's. If you've never been there it has to be seen to be believed. Three or so floors absolutely crammed with old books, on shelves, piled on the floor, everywhere. In fact on the ground floor there's a pile of books taller than me and almost as wide again, with notes stuck on it not to touch in case it collapses. It's almost like an art installation. Here's a photo of the place off the web:










Suffice it to say it's even more crammed with books now. But unlike a lot of ramshackle bookshops (and the book/art installation on the ground floor aside), you can actually see most of the books, even if it means moving the odd pile out of the way. Also the staff are usually quite friendly, which isn't always (often?) the case in this type of over-filled bookshop. Rachel was initially disappointed that the only Agatha Christie books on offer, down in the basement, were all sans jackets, but I moved aside some books on the shelves running up the staircase up to the first floor and found a load more there, so she came away with a bag full of firsts.

I spotted various interesting things on the shelves up the stairs, which house the fiction. And then down in the basement, where there's even more fiction, I came across a couple of Gavin Lyall first editions. Then a second look at the stairs shelves turned up some more Lyalls I'd missed first time round. So I grabbed the lot.

Gavin Lyall, for those who don't know, was a British thriller writer (and former RAF pilot), active from the 1960s to the end of the century. Like a lot of 20th Century thriller writers he's largely forgotten these days, which is a shame, as his books are cracking reads – among his fans could be counted the likes of Kingsley Amis and P. G. Wodehouse (and possibly my mum; when she saw one of his books on my shelf recently on a visit she was pleasantly surprised). Lyall's early novels were aviation thrillers for the most part, written in the first person and featuring hard-bitten pilot tough guys as their 'heroes'. Later, into the 1980s, Lyall started writing in the third person and created the character Harry Maxim for a series of espionage thrillers, the first book of which, The Secret Servant, was initially written as a pilot for a TV series starring Charles Dance (which I don't think I've seen).

So what did I get at Camilla's? I done got these:













A 1965 hardback first edition of Lyall's third novel, Midnight Plus One, published by Hodder and Stoughton;













A 1966 first edition hardback of his fourth novel, Shooting Script, again published by Hodder (looking forward to reading this one, as it shakes up the aviation action with the addition of a plot about making a movie; also, I'd like to find out who did the killer jacket designs for these two, as it doesn't say in the books);













A 1972 first hardback edition of Lyall's sixth novel, Blame the Dead, Hodder again, and with a photographic jacket by Clive Andrews;













A 1980 first edition hardback of the debut Harry Maxim novel, The Secret Servant, Hodder once more, with a jacket design by Raymond Hawkey/photography by Peter Williams (I've wanted to get this one for a while, but despite it being tied to a TV series, you don't see proper first editions around that much; usually they're Book Club editions, which, as we all know, just Ain't the Same Thing);













And a 1985 first edition hardback of the third Harry Maxim novel, The Crocus List. So, a nice bunch of additions to the Lyall books I already own, namely:













A 1961 first hardback edition of his debut novel, The Wrong Side of Sky (Hodder once again – and I'd love to know who painted that cover; it's a neat summation of Lyall's early oeuvre);













A 1965 Pan paperback edition of his second novel, The Most Dangerous Game (first published by Hodder in 1964);













And a 1971 Pan paperback of Lyall's fifth novel, Venus with Pistols (originally published by Hodder in 1969). I like the design of these Lyall Pan editions, but I'll doubtless keep my eye out for first editions. And having acquired five Lyalls in Eastbourne, that doesn't leave an awful lot left from his backlist for me to track down: only 1975's Judas Country, the two other Harry Maxim books, and his four later historical thrillers. Mind you, I'm still working my way through Richard Stark's Parker novels at the moment (currently on Parker #8, The Handle), and I've got a good number of Patricia Highsmith books to read yet too, so I've got quite enough to be getting on with.

Maybe just a quick look on AbeBooks though... Can't hurt, can it?

Knock knock, it's a New Arrival

Saturday's post brought another addition to my Patricia Highsmith collection, namely this:














A 1983 first edition of People Who Knock on the Door, published in hardback by Heinemann in 1983. Only set me back £3.50 on eBay, and it's in fine condition too. Reading the blurb on the jacket flap it looks like this is another atypical Highsmith, more of a family drama, like Edith's Diary. But then no two Highsmith books are the same, even if many of them do share similar traits of apprehension and murder.

There was lots more exciting book action at the weekend (well, exciting to me) – a trip to Eastbourne turned up quite a haul. And I've a hankering for some more shelf porn too. So lots of thrilling posts to come. Bet you can't wait, can you?

Oh please yourself.