From a Moorish fountain postcard to Clark Ashton Smith's sculptures

This old postcard had been sitting toward the top of my to-blog pile for a couple weeks, but I kept skipping it in favor of other posts. Not because I don't like it, but because I couldn't quite formulate what I wanted to write about it.

I just like it. It's creepy. It's cool.

Printed on the back of the postcard, in Italian, is "Antica Fontana nella Piazza di Ravello." And someone else, long ago, added this, in cursive: "Moorish fountain, Ravello, Italy."

Ravello is a small coastal town in southwestern Italy. Nine centuries ago, it was packed with about 25,000 residents. Today, it boasts only about 10 percent of that total — about 2,500 inhabitants, many whose well being is supported by a robust tourist economy.

This is truly a postcard image that needs to be clicked on, so you can see the magnified view. In addition to the amazing skeletal tree in the background, you can examine, in detail, the woman leaning quietly beside the fountain, nearly blending into it; the two stone animals sitting atop spouts; the construction of the fountain itself; and, on the far side, the hunched-over woman carrying a basket or basin on her back.

Of all the shadows and oddities on this postcard, though, it's those animals that intrigue me the most. They're an eerie combination of dog, monkey and human. Unearthly, really. I've decided that they remind me of the sculptures created by Clark Ashton Smith (1893-1961).

Smith was best-known for his weird short stories and poems. But he was also a prolific sculptor and painter. And some of his creations were photographed to create the dust jackets for his works.

For example...

Lost Worlds (Arkham House, 1944)

The Abominations of Yondo (Arkham House, 1960)

The Fantastic Art of Clark Ashton Smith(1973)

Sweet Dreams!

Book front & back: "Love a Llama"

• Title: Love a Llama
• Author and photographer: Colleen Stanley Bare
• Dust jacket design: Charlotte Staub
• Publisher: Cobblehill Books (New York)
• Date of publication: 1994
• Price: $13.99
• Pages: 32
• Format: Hardcover
• First three sentences: Love a llama, pat a llama, hug a llama. But not just any llama. Some llamas are more lovable, pattable, and huggable than other llamas. [I can vouch for that statement's accuracy.]
• Last two sentences: Love a llama, pat a llama, hug a llama. For a llama can become your friend.
• Random sentences from middle: Here is Dinky a month later, alert and playful. Llamas grow quickly.
• Notes: As a big fan of alpacas and llamas, I picked up this discarded library book at one of last summer's book sales, possibly the Book Nook Bonanza. (They all kind of blur together.) ... This book was once part of the Jackson-George Regional Library in Pascagoula, Mississippi, and it was checked out numerous times. ... The author's other books include Guinea Pigs Don't Read Books; Never Kiss an Alligator!; Sammy, Dog Detective; Critter, The Class Cat; Busy, Busy Squirrels; Never Grab a Deer by the Ear; and Elephants on the Beach. ... A review from the School Library Journal states: "Bare introduces young readers to llamas through many fine-quality, full-color photographs; a large print text; and lots of white space. However, while the information will be useful for reports, the book's poor organization may cause confusion." ... Want more llamas? Check out the 2013 post titled "Hay llamas! 1950s illustrated map of Catskill Game Farm."

From page 30...

#Lifegoals
(Related post, sort of)

Cool illustrations: The New Human Interest Library (Part 12)

This full-page illustration is from Page 73 of 1929's The New Human Interest Library. We're still in "The Do-It-Yourself Book," in a chapter titled "Bookmaking and Supplementary Projects." So, this time around, we are learning to make books.

The introduction, on the page that precedes this one, states: "Let us make three small books of single sheets, fastened and held together by cords. Our first one will be a word book, the second a list book, in which we may keep lists of telephone numbers, and the third a book for addresses." Necessary supplies for this project include paper, a heavy darning needle, mercerized cotton thread, and book cloth.

The one with the anthropomorphic light poles

This never-used postcard, which might date to before the divided-back era that began in 1907, has this cursive caption:

(10 P.M.) — I'm making new Acquaintances.
The straightforward and comic implication is that this gentleman is inebriated¹ and "talking" to light poles.

Or ... is this the true record of some Victorian Era gentleman, perhaps a Time Lord, who is traveling through an alternate dimension populated by sentient, anthropomorphic light poles. It is a fantastic land, one in which buildings tilt and shimmer as the very fabric of reality sways in the breeze. This brave adventurer is, perhaps, making his way through this land, as an ambassador of the human race. He might well be negotiating a treaty to keep the Pole People from invading our dimension. This man could be a hero.

But that's just one possible interpretation.

Previous posts featuring anthropomorphism

• "It's Time To Renew," according to this anthropomorphic alarm clock
• "The Owl and the Eel and the Warming-Pan" (1890)
• Vintage, punny get-well-soon card
• Freaky illustrations found within "The Story of Soil"
• Five groovy ads from the 1933 Furst-McNess cookbook
• 1960s Russian С Новым годом postcard ("Happy New Year!")
• Slightly creepy vintage Valentine's Day postcard
• Potentially unnecessary bonus image of a blender with a face
• Peachy little corned beef loaves and healthful cheese dishes
• Everything's better with anthropomorphism (1949's Plant Maintenance Manual)

Liquored-up Language Footnote
1. Intoxicated. Drunk. Tipsy. Plastered. Sloshed. Wasted. Potted. Buzzed. Schlonkered. Blitzed. Blotto. Pickled. Stewed. Toasted. ... So many colorful phrases for a less-than-colorful state of being. I do like the word schlonkered, though.

Photo: Sitting in front of the fireplace, with stockings hung above

On the heels of yesterday's post, here's another found photo, one that I probably should have included among last month's Christmas-themed posts.¹. It's a tiny thing — the image is just three inches across — and I wonder if it was a proof print, because it has ragged edges. (Or maybe it was just intended to be a wallet-sized photo.) There is nothing written on the back and nothing to indicate a year.

Are these three girls sisters? The age span from oldest to youngest could be as much as 15 or 16 years. It looks as if they were going for a posed shot in which all three of them were gazing into the fireplace (waiting for Santa Claus?), but the toddler had other ideas. I like how the stockings, hung with care, mirror the three girls.

Footnote
1. I already have a starting pile of four or five Christmas-themed items for December 2017. Taking bets on whether I lose track of that pile between now and then.

Found photo: 1928 dinner at Snyder Middleswarth Forest

This found photo¹, which measures 5¾ inches wide and has a slight sepia tint, features four women sitting on an outdoor swing or bench.² The cursive, handwritten caption on the back states:

Dinner
Snyder-Middleswarth Forest
May 20, 1928
This locaton is now Snyder Middleswarth Natural Area, and it's located in Snyder County in central Pennsylvania. It is named for a pair of Snyder County politicians whose lived in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Located within the greater Bald Eagle State Forest, Snyder Middleswarth is one of 27 National Natural Landmarks in Pennsylvania.

Here's a closer look at the four women...

Their names and lives are a mystery. Age-wise, they could be anywhere from their late 20s to mid 40s, I suppose. So some (all?) of them were definitely born in the late 19th century.

May 20, 1928, was a Sunday. It was a weekend that feature a federal election in Germany and a horrific mine explosion in Mather, Pennsylvania, that claimed 195 lives. That would be a bad week for mine incidents. On May 22, a mine explosion in Yukon, West Virginia, killed 17, and, a mine explosion in Kenvir, Kentucky, killed eight.

Footnotes
1. According to Wikipedia, University of Central Florida associate professor Barry Mauer "lists four practices of looking that influence inferences made in regards to the origin of found photos; voyeurism, Sherlock Holmes' style deductive reasoning, Surrealism, and with the eyes of a cultural anthropologist." I think that's a great list. With regard to the Surrealism, I definitely like the idea of "found photo as unintentional art photo."
2. And, fortunately, you can see all of their legs.

Postcard: Great old desk in Gloucester, Massachusetts

This never-used Plastichrome postcard features a wonderful wooden desk in what is described as the Beauport Museum in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Here's the full text from the back of the card:

BEAUPORT MUSEUM
Gloucester, Massachusetts
Society for the Preservation of
New England Antiquities
A ship's log recorded in the 1830's [sic] lies open on this desk in a quiet corner of the MARINER'S ROOM. Overlooking Gloucester Harbor, it houses a fine collection of various nautical items.
Photo by J. David Bohl
Rather than just Beauport Museum, this museum and landmark is now called, more specifically, the Sleeper-McCann House. It was once the home of interior decorator and collector Henry Davis Sleeper (1878-1934) and was later purchased and left intact by Mr. and Mrs. Charles McCann. According to Historic New England, "the interior and exterior of the house contain Sleeper’s lifetime collection of curiosities, colored glass, folk art, china, and silhouettes in every nook and alcove. Each of the forty rooms is distinguished by a historical or literary figure, theme, color, shape, or object."

Here is another image, from Historic New England, of the Mariner's Room and the desk, which is made of pine. You can see many pictures from the the Sleeper-McCann House at this link. Just scroll down to Browse Collection.

Related posts

• I would like Chauncey Depew's desk
• Wanamaker Diary: Storing your furs, great old desks, witches and more

Old postcard of Port Austin, Michigan: Winter on the rocks

One of the cool things about postcards is that they can connect a tiny village in one corner of the world to a huge city in a different corner of the world.

This postcard features an icy photograph labeled "Winter on the rocks." The location is Port Austin, Michigan, a lakeshore village of fewer than 1,000 residents on The Thumb of Michigan. The village is only one square mile in size and, as of the 2000 Census, more than half of its residents declared themselves to be of either Polish or German ancestry. Port Austin is known for its farmers' market, held every Saturday from May through October. There is also a well-reviewed business that calls itself the Blue Moon Ice Cream Shoppe! (with exclamation point) on Facebook.

The icicles in this photo remind me of the 5th post in Papergreat's history — Old photo stirs up a blizzard of mystery.¹

So, this postcard of little Port Austin was mailed in July 1923, with a 2-cent stamp, to Miss Grace Phelps, who at that time was in Paris, France.² The short note, which appears to be written in cursive by a child, states:

Dear aunt Gracie,
thank you for the card. Swimmming nearly every day. Hop you are well. We are all well.
Love from Anne

Footnotes
1. This, meanwhile, is the 2,109th post in Papergreat history.
2. Grace's address was 4 Rue Eduard VII, a street that's written as Rue Édouard-VII in French. Interestingly, it appears that Grace was on a tour, and the card was first sent to Rome before being readdressed and forwarded to Paris. That's pretty good service for two cents.