The Battle Is The Payoff

A war correspondent's book, from 1943.

Ellery Queen covers

More covers from Triangle Books edition from the early 1940s. Sorry, but there's no indication on these books who the illustrators were.

Ellery Queen covers

Covers of some Ellery Queen novels, from the early 1940s

Finally!

At last, I got my Visioneer scanner to work with my new Vista machine. Oof!

The Harvester, by Gene Stratton-Porter, 1911, illustrated by W. L. Jacobs

Private Peat

Photos, for a change, from a 1917 war memoir by a Canadian private. Here's the opening few paragraphs for you:

"Well," said old Bill, "I know what war is...I've been through it with the Boers, and here's one chicken they'll not catch to go through this one."

Ken Mitchel stirred his cup of tea thoughtfully. "If I was old enough, boys," said he, "I'd go. Look at young Gordon McLellan; he's only seventeen and he's enlisted."

That got me. It was then that I made up my mind I was going whether it lasted three months, as they said it would, or five years, as I thought it would, knowing a little bit of the geography and history of the country we were up against.

The Valley of Silent Men

A thriller from 1920 by James Oliver Curwood, illustrated by Dean Cornwall. It's got something to do with Canadian Mounties, I think.

On the fascination of old books

While I'm in between scanning sessions, here's a post I wrote on my other blog, Atlanta Rofters, a couple of years ago:

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Canadian tory pundit David Warren:

A civilization requires the lively circulation of old books. It is all very well to put their contents on the Internet -- you need the physical object to curl up with, and as a proof that the past really happened. You need the element of chance and discovery, in rooting through the remains of previous generations. Only a library or a used book store or sale can provide this, in the round -- for each contains, in addition to what is currently thought worth reading, a selection of what was once thought so. A computer screen is too small a window, and must be searched along a linear path, which no matter how it zigs and zags, remains a single line of inquiry.

Moreover, to my mind, a book is to a PDF file as sex to pornography. The book is something to hold, not just something to look at. I cannot see an excerpt from an attractive book on some backlit computer projection, without longing for the real thing.

Quite. In real life I get to rummage through a lot of old books, oftentimes entire estate consignments. They are the proverbial source of endless fascination for me, on many levels. One is of course the books themselves, and the interest they hold. The other is what a book collection tells about its former owner.

A retired minister's collection can be quite sizeable. It can contain books written by once-prominent pop-theologians, Biblical handbooks and reference materials, issues of a parish quarterly or some such, old Guidepost magazines, some lovingly-inscribed gift books from Christmases past. It's interesting getting a feel for his education and personality from the titles in the lot.

Or someone else might have belonged to a science fiction book of the month club years ago. Hardback editions of SF authors that only appear in paperback nowadays, if at all. (You know, if you say "new wave" to some people, they think not of music in the 80s, but science fiction in the 60s.) Old Universe compilations by Terry Carr. Any number of authors that I read when I was an spacey adolescent, but haven't thought about since then. And the literary memories flood back.

Of course a lot of book collections are quite prosaic. Computer professionals get rid of manuals that are scarcely five years old, depending on the software (or if they've moved on.) Nobody needs a 1970 set of World Book encyclopedias, or a 1960 hydraulics textbook. But a lot of vintage home economics handbooks can be quite entertaining reading.

And then there are the heirlooms, books given away by people unaware of their value. There are online tools for determining a book's monetary value, although I never take these books for myself. Borrow 'em for a day or two, maybe. When I find a century or more old book, with a personal name handsomely inscribed, sometimes I use other tools, out of idle curiosity, to find out more about that person. Only a bibliophile could understand the feeling I mean to describe, holding a book that was a Christmas or birthday present in the nineteen-oughts, and seeing the former owner's birth and death dates in a genealogy file.

I once had the opportunity to surprise a man with a box of books, whose existence he knew nothing of, that had once belonged to his late father, and some earlier ancestors. I bent some rules to do so, and drew a verbal reprimand, but darn it, I'm proud of myself for doing that. He had recently lost his other parent, so this reconnection with his past, and the chance to pass it on to his own children, was doubly poignant. Not bad for a load of old books.

Scooped!

I launched this blog, featuring all these rare (SFAIK) illustrations, in hopes of landing Blogger's front page feature. But, much to my chagrin, I see that they very recently spotlit this blog, which covers the same ground. The fellow running it knows a lot more about illustration than I do, plus there's a lot more sex than I'll be having over here to boot. So, if your tastes run that way, click on over and scroll.

...darn it...

Ellery Queen

This is the 1940 edition of a 1934 copyrighted novel

Even more WWII paperbacks,

More WWII paperbacks

Wartime paperbacks

Here we have a pocket paperback of John Steinbeck's The Moon Is Down, from 1942...




...and this from 1941, purporting to be the diary of a Luftwaffe pilot. The cover artist is Gerald Gregg, who drew a lot of Dell paperback covers in the Forties. I may have to sit down with this one, before I send it along. Have to be careful, though. In addition to being 60 years old, it's a disposable wartime book, printed on materials even cheaper than normal paperbacks. It's a miracle that these are in as good a shape as they are.

Jane Austen Sense and Sensibility

"He received the kindest welcome from her; and shyness, coldness, reserve, could not stand against such a reception."



"'Well,' said he, 'we have brought you some strangers. How do you like them?'"



"To prevent the possibility of mistake, be so good as to look at this face."


Once again, these are by someone named C. E. Brock, dated 1898, for a 1906 multi-volume set of the works of Jane Austen.

Jane Austen Sense and Sensibility

"The gentleman offered his services, took her up in his arms, and carried her down the hill"



"To take three thousand pounds from the fortune of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him."

These images are by someone named C. E. Brock, dated 1898. The book they are from is dated 1906.

Uncle Tom Andy Bill : a story of bears and Indian treasure, Charles Major, illus. P. Van E. Ivory, 1908

Had to scan this in grayscale, because my pokey little Visioneer scanner couldn't handle it in natural tones. This is a real cave, btw, so I hope some spelunkers happen by, who will appreciate this old image.

Uncle Tom Andy Bill : a story of bears and Indian treasure, Charles Major, illus. P. Van E. Ivory, 1908

Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility, 1906

This is the frontispiece of the Sense and Sensibility volume of a twelve-volume set of her works, limited run of 1250, published by Frank S. Holby. Here's the caption to the picture:

This is from a portrait of Jane Austen, said to have been paitned when she was on a visit to Bath, at about the age of fifteen, by Johann Zoffany. The original is in the possession of the Rev. J. Moreland Rice, Rector of Bramber, Sussex, and grandson of Miss Austen's second brother Edward. It is here reproduced by the kind permission of Mr. Rice, who tells me that it formerly belonged to Colonel Austen of Kippington, a descendant of the kind "Uncle Francis" Austen, who was Miss Austen's great-uncle, and the early friend of her father. He gave it to his friend, Mrs. Hardinge-Newman, a devoted admirer of the novelist, and her step-son, Dr. Hardinge-Newman, left it to Mr. Rice. -Ed.

The original painting referenced above can be found with this search. I'll be posting more from this book as I get time.

Uncle Tom Andy Bill : a story of bears and Indian treasure, Charles Major, illus. P. Van E. Ivory, 1908

I'll have more of this one later.

Stover at Yale, Owen Johnson, illus. Frederick R. Gruger 1912

College sure has changed a lot since 1912. If I had been around back then, I'd probably be picking tobacco, attending the Primitive Baptist Church, and blogging by oil lamp.

Carnac's Folly, Gilbert Parker, illus Walter Lauderback, 1922

Sorry for the b/w, but that's how it was in the book. This illustrator doesn't seem to have appeared in any other books, that I can find in a cursory online search.

Big Business Murder, 1935

A British financial industry thriller from the Thirties. Click on it for the larger view.

Illustrations in old books

I frequently encounter old books, from the 1880s on through the present. I've often been struck by the wonderful old illustrations in many of them, and so now I've gotten around to sharing them with you guys. I've let too many get by, over the years, and the starter set I'm presenting now is not the very best I've seen. Still maybe some viewers will enjoy these, and it'll save some forgotten illustrators from utter obscurity. And away we go!