DICK TRACY & THE INVISIBLE MAN (1939)

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Another good mail day: the Dick Tracy BLB collection crossed its halfway point – 15/27 – with addition of THE PHANTOM SHIP and bonus round of the softcover premium version of the strangest title in the series, FROM COLORADO TO NOVA SCOTIA. Should have the full series in the next couple of weeks, a life goal crossed out / finished.

But it’s the tiny book above, DICK TRACY AND THE INVISIBLE MAN (1939), published by Whitman (same as the BLBs) that’s got me so excited: a stapled softcover offering even smaller than a Big Little Book released as a premium for Quaker Puffed Rice / Wheat cereal, the sponsors of the radio show. The book / script itself is credited as being “as broadcast by Dick Tracy” (a la “from the private files of The Shadow, as told to Maxwell Grant”) and in two parts: the first is a “behind the scenes in radio with Dick Tracy” segment and the second, the full radio script to “Dick Tracy and The Invisible Man.” Very fun little artifact that combines four of my passions into one tiny package: Dick Tracy, Big Little Books, Universal Horror, and radio dramas.

Acquaint yourself with the “Mike,” Detective.

big little survival

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(This post – which is, itself, an expansion of an earlier post on wed/20230222 heralding the arrival of the first DICK TRACY (and first-ever) Big Little Book produced – was originally published in MacroParentheticals 0106 on sun/20230226. I’m reproducing the newsletter version here because I’m rather fond of it – and I’ll be publishing a short follow-up this Sunday. You can subscribe here, if so inclined.)

I've had a thing for Big Little Books, those +/- 3.5" x 4.5", Depression-post-WWII - era handheld books and entertainments, since I was somewhere in the single digits and my grandfather purchased three of them - CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG, BONANZA, and THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. (all from the late-60's revival) – for me from an antique dealer friend.

Though MAN FROM UNCLE was always my favorite, it was the BONANZA one, spine number two of that revival series, that took on a special significance three decades hence when, at my first trip to the closest this indifferent agnostic will ever get to heaven on earth, The Toys That Time Forgot (the last trip to a store before COVID hit), I found spine number one, DICK TRACY ENCOUNTERS FACEY: an obsession – scratch that, two obsessions – was/were thus revitalized.

Wednesday, then, was a big day, a very very very very very good mail day: the first Big Little Book ever produced, December 1932, the now-exceedingly rare product of a single print run testing out a new type of narrative delivery system amidst the throes of the Great Depression, that just so happened to feature the object of my second obsession, arrived in my hands:

To put this book's place in history in perspective: Dick Tracy was only a year old (and "known to 10,000,000 readers," as the cover states); FDR had been elected in a landslide but had yet to be inaugurated (for the first of four times); Superman was six years away from making his debut, Batman seven; Tod and Bela and James and Boris had, only a year earlier, shepherded Dracula and Frankenstein's monster into cinematic history; and both of my grandfathers were six, a little younger than I was when they collectively birthed this particular obsession in me; to possess the first – and now, the second DICK TRACY BLB adventure (that pair is below) – is, to put it mildly, a big fucking deal for me.

This obsession with Big Little Books goes further than enjoying the format, a shared connection to my grandfathers, and a desire to possess: I have a far deeper love of what would be considered disposable media - pulps, BLBs, old comics – narrative delivery systems that were not meant to survive consumption and possession, either through quality, life, historical events, or parental intervention – than the purported treasures of more recent years: I'm still noodling about in the notion, unpacking it, but I've been thinking that these disposable narrative delivery systems of yesterday provide a key for new, sustainable narrative delivery systems and storytelling forms today: indeed, they're already shaping how I approach writing and the delivery systems I choose (handmade zines printed on sugarcane waste paper, etc etc) to contain whatever concoction I send you that passes for a narrative.

But: that these little packages of entertainment did survive – not out of quality of construction or design for posterity but of a concerted effort on the part of someone, be it the first owner who treasured them enough to enable a nearly 100-year-old 10-cent book to endure the Great Depression, WWII, and every historical event between then and now – to spend the next phase of their lives in Funko Pop plastic cases on my shelves here in The Paintshop, my sancutary in the middle of a fuckall nowhere highway afterthought/speedtrap 'burg in Ohio, is nothing short of amazing: by all accounts, they shouldn't be here. Yet here they are:

I don't know: maybe I'm putting to much thought into it. This is my way. But it might also be why you read (or tolerate) me.

But I mean, really: Do we love anything enough these days to hold on to it for that long? To ensure its survival? To pass something down through subsequent generations, to instill a love of something in such a way that it becomes unconscionable to let it die? Or do we take too much for granted today, especially when what would be considered the pulps of today can be deleted from an e-reader with a flick of a button?

Or maybe I'm just getting old(er) and grouchy(ier). Damn kids, etc etc. Off my lawn and all that. Need to develop the above more. (Not that I'm older and grouchier, that's a fact of life, I'm talking the Big Little disposable / sustainable thing...)

Anyhow... (the thought trails off)...

(Again, the above post was originally published in MacroParentheticals 0106 on sun/20230226. I’ll be publishing a short follow-up this Sunday. You can subscribe here, if so inclined.)

the other other obsession

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In addition to the Big Little Book obsession, I’m also hooked on lobby cards, so a brief tour of the Paintshop walls (pardon the comics and dog ass): Mexican cards for THE RETURN OF THE FLY and DIARY OF A MADMAN (what LC collection is complete without Vincent Price?) and an Italian poster for one of the best, BLACULA.

Joining requisite DICK TRACY lobby cards (from my favorite of the films. 1945’s DICK TRACY, starring my favorite on-screen Tracy, Morgan Conway) and the second Republic serial, DICK TRACY RETURNS is a lobby card from a 1943 Mexico City screening of my favorite movie serial / chapterplay, MYSTERIOUS DR. SATAN

The two comics PICTURES are the two linchpins of my 30+-year comics nuttery – GREEN HORNET No.3 being the first comic I ever bought and O’Neil / Kaluta THE SHADOW No.1 being the first issue of one of my favorite runs of all time.

PHANTOM ‘43 is from a 1955 re-release “IN FLAMING TECHNICOLOR!” (quite possibly the best description ever) and I’ve never actually seen THE SON OF DR. JEKYLL, but I imagine he’s up to no good. Also: ALF. Because ALF.

THE ADVENTURES OF DICK TRACY, DETECTIVE (Big Little Book No. 707, December 1932)

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Filed under: a very very very very very good mail day: the first (in spite of the spine number) Big Little Book ever produced, December 1932, the product of a single print run testing out a new type of narrative delivery system amidst the throes of the Great Depression, featuring the object of my second obsession, the titular detective, is now in my hands (minus ten opening pages and a spine, but I don’t care: it’s lived a well-loved life and now I can give it a home):

To put its place in history into perspective: the titular character was only a year old; FDR had been elected in a landslide but had yet to be inaugurated (for the first time); and both of my grandfathers – whose influences sent me on the lifelong obsessions represented in this tiny package – were eight, quite possibly the same age I was when they collectively triggered this obsession.

I'll be writing more about this treasure, both its history and its creative (and personal) significance to me, in Sunday's newsletter but I wanted to record its date of arrival here.

Oh, this is a good day.

lenticular power action punch gateway(?)

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While I haven't quite decided the exact moment my current action figure acquisition mania took hold, I've narrowed it down to two likely culprits, both thanks to McFarlane Toys (though Mego's new Universal Monsters line was, probably, just as complicit): first, the Superman / Batman hybrid figure from one of my favorite Elseworlds, SUPERMAN: SPEEDING BULLETS (which opened mine eyes to the beauty of McFarlane's line of DC Multiverse figures) and then their relaunch of the SUPER POWERS line; it was the latter, especially, that kicked me into what I can only describe as a synthesis of gotta-have-it frenzy and "pick it up if it intrigues me" self-curatorial methodology of mass-produced modern plastic sculpture (Daredevil and Spidey Marvel Legends; random Batman and Superman McFarlane variants – though I do have the entirety of the THREE JOKERS line; the Neca Universal Monsters line; and the occasional Mego purchase - '62 Herbert Lom Phantom being the latest) and vintage acquisitions of both the "I've missed you come back to me (in carded, beautiful form)" – original Super Powers Superman (and Supermobile!); an (incoming) trio of Mattel's '84 SECRET WARS figures (those lenticular shields still fascinate); Playmates's Dick Tracy line; etc – and "I've never had you and now I must" – vintage Dick Tracy toys, comics, books, and especially Big Little Books (including one which is on its way but that I'm not going to get too excited about until I hold it in my hands); Universal Monsters lobby cards; Shadow pulps and related ephemera; and movie serial memorabilia) varities: I need more shelves (and curtain rods).