While on my cross-country trip earlier this summer to relocate to Portland, OR, I visited many a used bookstore and bought many a used book (you may have seen
photos). In one store I found a cache of paperbacks in very good condition by
John Blackburn (1923-1993), a writer I was familiar with only because his first novel, 1958's
A Scent of New-Mown Hay (published in the US as
The Relucant Spy in 1966), was included in
Horror: Another 100 Best Books. These paperbacks were a bit out of my price range (although I did spring for Charles Birkins's
Smell of Evil), but now I'm kinda regretting not biting that bullet and buying 'em.
Many weren't even released in the States, or were published only in the 1960s--hence the collectible prices today. Small independent press
Valancourt Books is doing the good, good work of reprinting many if not most of
Blackburn's other previously out-of-print novels. The trade paperbacks these guys are putting out are splendid, with new introductions and smart, vibrant, modern covers that also reference some of these vintage editions.
I've never read any kind of spy/espionage novel, not a LeCarre or Ludlum or Fleming in all my entire collection of paperback fiction, so admittedly I'm intrigued by ones that have a supernatural twist to them, especially when it seems to have been done with skill and invention (Clive Barker did such a thing in his short "Twilight at the Towers"). The word "ingenious" gets mentioned with Blackburn a lot, and man, I just don't read enough books that make me go, "Wow, now
that was ingenious!"
Anyway, I'm posting these old paperback covers solely because I dig 'em; don't you? I mean that
Children of the Night
(Berkley Medallion/1970)--one of the most
over-used titles in all of
horror, thanks Count Dracula!--is something to behold, a true creepfest, as nudists there seem to be enjoying an adults-only getaway in a
monster maw.
The title-switch of
New-Mown Hay to
Reluctant Spy (Lancer/1966) makes sense; I'm the sure the original title refers to some moment of dreadful import within the story itself (although I don't think it refers to a bikini-clad ass [NEL/1976]), but for unfamiliar readers it doesn't exactly scream "must-buy!". The stark simplicity of cold marble and black iron of
Bury Him Darkly (Berkley Medallion/1970) bespeak... well, someone buried darkly.
For Fear of Little Men (Coronet UK/1974) uses poor John Merrick to some touching effect, and the juxtaposition of rat and child on
Wreath of Roses (Lancer/1966), might that be a precursor to a Mr.
James Herbert? Perhaps.
Broken Boy (Lancer/1966) has a good review and some author background
here. "Cold-war espionage" leaves me, well, cold, but knowing what I know about Blackburn now, I wonder. Cold war? I think it likely also means cold chills....
