Lockdowns are mentally tiring, so you may not be in the mood to finish all those classic novels you started to read. Fortunately I have an alternative for you: Classics Illustrated!
Let's take a look at a few...
Homer eroticism: The Odyssey. Classics Illustrated, 1951.
Wrestling with issues of state: The Life of Abraham Lincoln. Classics Illustrated, 1958.
Peck 'n' Pa...
The Food Of The Gods by HG Wells. Classics Illustrated 160, 1961.
Chug! Chug! Chug! Dr. Jekyll & Mr Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Classics Illustrated, 1968.
Eyebrow game... Faust, by Goethe. Classics Illustrated, 1962.
I think this is the Nik Kershaw edition: Don Quixote, by Miguel De Cervantes. Classics Illustrated, 1943.
Spoilers! Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë. Classics Illustrated, 1947.
That's a very *ahem* unusual bottle shape you've drawn.
The Bottle Imp, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Classics Illustrated, 1954.
"Is this a dagger I see before me?" Macbeth, by William Shakespeare. Classics Illustrated 128, 1955.
That Scooby-Doo / Sherlock crossover you've been waiting for. Classics Illustrated, 1947.
Don Draper on a unicycle. The Time Machine by H G Wells. Classics Illustrated, 1956.
Hamlet, the codeine edition. Classics Illustrated, 1969.
A few panels from the 1949 Classics Illustrated edition of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.
You can read many Classics Illustrated titles for free thanks to the Internet Archive: archive.org/details/classi…
Do have a look and crib your way to a classics education! What are the chances...
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Given the current heatwave, I feel obliged to ask my favourite question: is it time to bring back the leisure suit?
Let's find out...
Now we all know what a man's lounge suit is, but if we're honest it can be a bit... stuffy. Formal. Businesslike. Not what you'd wear 'in da club' as the young folks say.
So for many years tailors have been experimenting with less formal, but still upmarket gents attire. The sort of garb you could wear for both a high level business meeting AND for listening to the Moody Blues in an espresso bar. Something versatile.
Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.