From the Stacks – 'In the Wrong Rain' (1959)

Hope died in the opening lines of “In the Wrong Rain,” and optimism succumbed a few pages later. Duty ground stubbornly ahead for a chapter or two before collapsing as well. Curiosity thumbed randomly through the book and then tossed it aside with a sigh of regret. It is often said -- at least by me -- that failure is sometimes more interesting than success, rather like reassembling the wreckage of a jetliner to determine why it crashed, killing everyone on board.  This is not one of those times.  “In the Wrong Rain” is dismal union of two musty themes of the 1950s. Think of it as “The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit Meets Lolita.” If this were to be made into a film, it would star Jeff Chandler, Laurence Harvey or some other wooden leading man of the era as the inwardly tortured postwar executive; June Allyson or Donna Reed as his two-dimensional, cardboard wife; and Sandra Dee as the teenage jailbait daughter of an old college friend who comes to town. ALSO Robert R. Kirsch on Raymond Chandler

From the Stacks – 'Facts You Should Know About California'

Since March, when I examined Louis Adamic’s “The Truth About Los Angeles,” I have been hunting the other pamphlets he wrote for E. Haldeman-Julius. A box of a dozen musty tracts arrived Friday, courtesy of EBay, and I immediately dug into No. 752, “Facts You Should Know About California,” written about 1927-28.

From the Stacks: 'Bookmen and Their Brothels'

“Bookmen and Their Brothels: Recollections of Los Angeles in the 1930s” by Ward Ritchie recently showed up on EBay for too much money, so I borrowed a copy through interlibrary loan and spent a happy hour or so reading what was presumably the transcript of a speech to the Zamorano Club. “Bookmen” is a splendid little item of 42 pages printed by Grant Dahlstrom in 1970 and evokes what must seem an improbable time when people cared about custom printing and binding – rather than a Kindle with generic fonts.

Bullet of Mystery – Part 5

In case you just tuned in, I’m posting a small case study of research I did with Caroline Comport on her grandfather Lionel Comport for her master’s thesis. Researching Los Angeles is a treasure hunt, and every time I dig into the resources I find something new. Bullet of Mystery – Part 1 Bullet of Mystery – Part 2 Bullet of Mystery – Part 3 Bullet of Mystery – Part 4   In Part 1, I summarized the case of Lionel Comport, a milkman who was shot in the back while making his rounds in 1901. In Part 2, we looked at some of the resources for online newspapers, and in Part 3, we examined sites that have property records on the corner where the shooting occurred. In Part 4, we delved into the Sanborn maps of the neighborhood. In my final post in the series, I’ll talk about one of the happy discoveries of research. There are, of course, many more places to look. This is a merely a sample.

From the Stacks: 'The Los Angeles Book'

It has been years since I looked through “The Los Angeles Book” and even longer since I read it. Then several weeks ago, I bought a copy so I could point out a particular photo of Chavez Ravine to a Chapman University student who was interviewing me for a documentary on the Dodgers. That pretty much sums up the 1950 collaboration of Lee Shippey and Max Yavno (d. 1985):  You remember the pictures and forget the words.  In fact, Yavno once said he never read any of Shippey’s text.

From the Stacks – 'Portraits of Crime' (1977)

Two years after writing about  LAPD Det. Ector Garcia, I finally located a copy of his book, “Portraits of Crime,” which arrived in the mail from the U.K. while I was on vacation. No one will ever mistake this book for great literature. The editing is weak (as in “Leo” LaBianca) but the rough, raw writing gives “Portraits” a freshness and immediacy that might be missing in a more polished work. Written by LAPD artist Garcia (d. 1987) and Charles E. Pike, “Portraits” consists of composite sketches and brief summaries of  29 cases from the 1950s to the 1970s. Aside from the Tate-LaBianca and Son of Sam murders, most of the subjects are obscure killings, kidnappings and rapes that could easily be the raw material for several seasons of TV crime shows.

From the Stacks – 'Dancing Bear' (1968)

Out of curiosity, I picked up Gladwin Hill’s “Dancing Bear” at the Southern California Library’s book sale.  I never met Hill (d. 1992), the New York Times bureau chief in Los Angeles, but I had heard about him at luncheon gatherings of Times retirees who call themselves the Old Farts.    I tend to avoid reading about politics in my spare time. I get a healthy dose of it at work, and the minute dissection of old political intrigues – stiffly written prose about half-remembered names and long-forgotten battles  – isn’t terribly interesting to anyone but the most confirmed political junkie. With expectations that “Dancing Bear” would be nothing but a stale time capsule, I was quite pleasantly surprised by Hill’s engaging account of California politics, and his insights not only on the state’s curious history, but especially his perspective on the early career of Ronald Reagan.

From the Stacks -- 'Ride the Pink Horse'

Out of curiosity, I picked up this paperback for 50 cents at the Southern California Library’s book sale because the 1947 movie based on Dorothy B. Hughes’ novel is often mentioned as a classic film noir, and of course  it’s not on DVD except as a bootleg. Hughes may be best known for the novel  “In a Lonely Place,” which was also made into a dark, brooding film noir. She was a prominent author of the 1940s and early 1950s who quit writing for family reasons, although she continued to review mysteries for The Times.  I was ready for a major sit, with a fire in the fireplace, a cup of coffee, music, a comfy chair and – oh dear.  “Ride the Pink Horse” was a huge disappointment.

From the Stacks -- 'City of Angels'

Rupert Hughes’ “City of Angels,” 1941.

How much of a book must one read before deciding that it’s going to be a dog? Does an author deserve a running start of the first chapter? Can one truly tell that a book is going to be a stinker after one page -- or maybe the opening line, especially if a columnist like Lee Shippey recommends it? In this case, yes.