Today in pulp I look back at the work of Victorian illustrator Sidney Sime.
Come this way...
Sidney Sime was born in Manchester in 1865. After working as a miner for five years he studied illustration at the Liverpool School of Art. His work was first exhibited in 1889.
Sime rose to fame through fantastical illustratons, working initially for Pick-Me-Up and The Idler magazine. In 1899 he used money from an inheritance to purchase and edit The Idler, before selling it on in 1901.
In 1904 he began work for Lord Dunsany, illustrating his first book The Gods of Pegana. Dunsany then became Sime's patron, and the artist worked for him on his books throughout his life.
There's a sly humour in Sime's work for Lord Dunsany: the gothic terror is always undercut with a dash of satire or a witty visual joke. Sime's experience as a caricaturist is evident in many of these drawings.
Sidney Sime has often been compared to Aubrey Beardsley. Both artist emphasized the grotesque, the decadent and the erotic in their work.
Poe, Heine, De Quincey and Meredith were great influences on Sidney Sime's aesthetic. He would read them late into the night at his Crown Cottage studio in Worplesdon.
In later life Sime became obsessed with the Book of Revelation and went on to paint his own visions of the Apocalypse. He also became a recluse, drawing and painting only when he felt like it.
Sidney Sime passed away on 22nd May 1941. His grave in St Mary's Churchyard, Worplesdon, near his studio. A gallery dedicated to his work has been established nearby: sidneysimegallery.org.uk
Sidney Sime is somewhat overlooked nowadays. That's a huge shame as his imagination and skill mark him out as an excellent and evocative illustrator of the macabre. Do look out for his work, it's very rewarding.
More stories another time...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
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.