Young Masculinity and "The Other": Representations of Ideal Manliness in Twentieth-Century English Boys' Annuals
Farley, Pauline, Thymos
Twentieth-century English boys' annuals often defined masculinity against notions of the "otherness" of gender, race and class. The children's annual, which developed as a popular literary form during the Victorian period, was designed to instruct and entertain. Dominant ideologies about gender, race and class were reproduced and reinforced for an uncritical readership. High production values meant that annuals became a form of "hard copy," re-read by several generations. In boys' annuals, mid-Victorian styles of masculinity were reiterated during the twentieth century. In these narratives, boy heroes demonstrated superiority to various groups of "others," thereby modelling and inscribing an increasingly old-fashioned masculinity and preserving older ideologies. Exploring a neglected area of ideological history of gender, this article shows how boys' annuals presented readers with notions of "masculinity" defined by comparison with "the other," who might be indigenous, feminine or lower-class.
Keywords: masculinity, identity construction, English boys' annuals, otherness, instruction, generic popular literature
In boys' annuals, a popular form of children's literature that developed during the Victorian period, prescriptive ideas about masculinity were propagated through text and illustration. In his introduction to Imperialism in Juvenile Literature (1989), Jef- frey Richards maintained that "[pjopular fiction is one of the ways by which society in- structs its members in its prevailing ideas and mores, its dominant role models and legitimate aspirations" (p. 1). Regardless of whether or not these ideas and mores are based on inequalities, popular fiction perpetuates them, for it plays a dual role. Not only does it reflect "popular attitudes, ideas and preconceptions," but it simultaneously generates "support for selected views and opinions" (p. 1). This means that such views and opinions can gradually come to appear as "true." As Mills (1997) remarked, "representations [...] structured largely according to certain discursive formats [...] accrue truth-value to themselves through usage and familiarity" (p. 107). Like children's magazines and periodicals, boys' annuals were a form of popular literature presented to child readers as a "treat" or a reward, and therefore they had a positive socio-cultural connotation. This added to their power as teaching devices. Also, because boys' annuals remained on bookshelves and were read over and over again, boy readers were subjected repeatedly to the ideas which they contained. Publishers had high production values for annuals and designed them carefully to attract both adults and children. Annuals were often given as prizes and Christmas presents, forming a large part of the lucrative juvenile Christmas publishing trade and reinforcing the annuals' positive association with pleasure, leisure and holidays (Sims & Clare, 2000, pp. 351-361).1 From early in the twentieth century, with the "budget" publishing style annuals became available to a much wider audience and their popularity with children and adults continued until late in the twentieth century.
English children's books "came into being less to delight than to instruct" and a key part of their didacticism was to transmit ideological "manliness" or "womanliness" to children (Nelson, 1991 , p. 1).2 Popular literature played a significant role in the development of masculine identity in boyhood. Sims & Clare (2000) have observed that "annuals and short story collections [for children] are a much under-researched subject" (p. 351). In his brief summation of the field of boys' annuals, Kirkpatrick (2000) does not examine in any detail the ideological thrust of such material, but in some accompanying remarks that concern short stories in collections for children, he notes that "generally, they were fairly whimsical, light reading with no serious purpose" (p. 357). The present article argues that this was far from being the case. It presents evidence that there was a serious ideological purpose behind not only school stories, but also material in boys' annuals.
What is most remarkable about the material contained in boys' annuals is that throughout the twentieth century it continued to reinforce an almost identical paradigm of masculinity to that devised in the Victorian period. The construction of masculinity in the literature of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries took place through the trope of "adventure" or "the ripping yarn" (Dixon, 1995, p. 1). Adventure tales were a staple feature of boys' annuals. By offering "different rites of passage through which boys could become men," adventure stories for boys defined and disseminated ideal manliness (Crotty, 2001 , p. 133). Boys' annuals offered role models from the areas of "fact" and "fiction" (Kennedy, 1917).3 In them, boys were portrayed as active and alert, and as hunters, fighters and navigators actively steering a course for adventure. This idea of "manliness" was the major paradigm presented by boys' annuals until the 1980s. Illustrations were used to present and reinforce the manly ideal.4 The covers frequently depicted versions of the same basic role model in full and vivid color for the instruction and entertainment of young readers. A remarkable example is that furnished by a comparison of the cover illustration of The Triumph Adventure Book (c. 1917) with the cover illustration of Lion Annual 1983, both of which foreground a youthful soldier, rifle at the ready, advancing boldly across a smoky, reddened war-torn landscape.
Socio-cultural forces strongly influence the formation of gendered identities, and the process of writing, reading, teaching and learning about gender is complex. However, both writers and readers are "equally instrumental in the process" of gender identity creation (Fraser & White, 1994, pp. xv, xvii). Popular fiction, with what Richards called its "instructive" role, was a significant socio-cultural force in the propagation of ideologies of masculinity for young readers. What lent these stories their significance was the way they were "based upon a total acceptance of the social and political values of their period" (Butts, 1989, p. 136). This meant that little scope remained for questioning discursive features which "through usage and familiarity" had long assumed "truth value" (Mills, 1997, p. 107). When comparing examples of hunting tales from the earlier and later periods of the twentieth century, it can be seen that "manliness" or the masculine ideology was constructed in this discourse in a very similar manner against racial and national "others."
The Hunter as Masculine Ideal: 1910s -1980s
Throughout history, heroes have proved themselves in hunting exploits. During the nineteenth century, this became part of the colonial ideal. According to MacKenzie(1989),
[t]rapping and hunting lay at the heart of the nineteenth-century image of exploration, pioneering and adventure [. . .] [requiring] [. . .] qualities of 'character' admired by the Victorians, stoicism, application, command of self and followers, and the capacity to encounter high risk and triumph, (p. 146)
These character qualities were also attributes of "ideal manliness" and were encapsulated easily in the hunting adventure story. For the Victorians, hunting offered "a series of tests [...] through which boys bec[a]me men" (p. 147), and in hunting tales from early in the twentieth century, ideal masculinity was constructed frequently against racial "others." One such tale, by William Dalton (c. 1917), is titled "I Fire off my Waistcoat Buttons."5 It is important to note that hunting tales often emphasized a patriarchal model of masculinity which gestured strongly towards the "civilizing" role assumed by white and predominantly male colonizers. As Schoene-Harwood (2000), the literary critic, points out,
[p]atriarchy denies the possibility of mutual relationships between equals, demanding instead that in every human relationship one person must be the master while the other must be a slave, that one must give orders while the other obeys, that one must be a subject while the other is an object, (p. 118)
While ostensibly a "hunting adventure," this short narrative valorizes just such a patriarchal model for youthful readers. In it two males are compared directly with the white male, an obvious "winner" in terms of the masculine qualities that are reinforced in the tale. Britain's imperial "frontier" was "a highly-dispersed phenomenon in different continents" (MacKenzie, 1987, p. 177). Dalton's tale deals with a moose-hunting expedition in Canada. The narrative is in the first person singular, an analogue for the tale's power relations. No other perspective is possible as the unnamed hero recounts how he and his indigenous "companion," simply named Fos, are confronted by a wild boar. Fos refers to the narrator as "Excellency," denoting a servant/master relationship that immediately gives the lie to the "companion" description. When he swiftly ties his hunting knife to a pole, making a spear, Fos is objectified paternalistically by the narrator as "the gallant boy." However, as the narrative proceeds, Fos is blamed for several things that go wrong. He is gradually reduced and further objectified (perhaps even demonized) as "that imp of a boy." A moose herd is discovered, but a misfire occurs and the ammunition is spent. At this point, the eponymous event takes place. The quick-thinking narrator cuts from his waistcoat "six round brass buttons," loads them into his rifle barrel, and shoots. The two characters are positioned clearly as natural master and natural servant as Fos carries home a dead calf in "porter fashion." Fos has moved from guide and "companion," to "gallant boy," to "imp," to "confounded" nuisance, and, finally, to servant, reduced from what was initially a position of almost equal status to one of obvious subservience.
The modeling of masculinity continued in this manner for the next generation in the mid-1930s, but racial differentiation in terms of manly qualities was often rather more marked. "The Lost River," from Collins' Adventure Annual, deals with two young white men who model the heroic masculine ideal (Orme, c. 1934, pp. 31-40).6 Nelson (1991) noted that there was virtue in being British (p. 29). This is clear in the tale, which is set in Africa and features Ted Morton, "a lean young Britisher," and John Flint, "big, brawny and also British" (Orme, c. 1934, p. 32). Obviously, "British" masculinity is exemplified, and to emphasize the heroism, the writer states that these are "the only two white men for hundreds of miles" (p. 32). The two are seeking long-lost Egyptian treasure. Musu, an indigenous person, acts as guide and servant to the white men. Musu is a Zulu warrior. The Zulu had a special status in British mythologizing of Africa. A "proud, virile and disciplined people," they were "unlike the pitiable slave," a far more common African stereotype in children's literature (Castle, 2001, pp. 73-74). Musu is bold and would defend the white men from the hostile guardian tribe of the Egyptian treasure, but he is ordered not to do so by Morton, who with the rock-like Flint remains calm in the face of extreme adversity (Orme, c. 1934, pp. 34-36). This signifies that the attitude of the young English male is ultimately superior to the "hotheaded" attitude of the otherwise admirable Zulu warrior. Leadership was expected of an ideal man and is celebrated in the tale, which describes how by intelligence, initiative and cool planning, the young white men defeat a numerically superior Egyptian enemy group and reassemble a terrified group of African porters who have retreated in the face of danger (pp. 38-39).
A standard feature of generic boys' literature of this period was to stereotype those "others," who were not what Mills (1997) termed "elite colonised subjects," into "an undifferentiated mass" (pp. 109, 120.7 The simplistic dichotomizing of the two groups of "foreign" or "other" males in "The Lost River" indicates that they are of lesser status than the two British boy heroes (Orme, c. 1934, p. 40). Determination, courage and boldness not only bring victory and rewards of treasure, but are all signifiers of ideal masculine conduct. Representations of ideal masculinity were defined by contrast with various indigenous "others," who were usually portrayed by writers and illustrators as vicious, cowardly, lazy or treacherous.8 Stereotyping of this kind occurred well into the 1940s and 50s, and examples of masculine definition against "othered" types of male are numerous in boys' annuals. As late as 1968, in Dean's New Leisure Book for Boys, young white men were still performing feats of daring in Africa while defining their masculinity against indigenous people. Not all manly battles were fought with weapons. In "Guy Bridges The Gap" (Waterhouse, 1968, p. 57-66), Guy, an English boy, uses his superior athletic prowess honed on "the ropes in the school gym" to repair a broken swing bridge (pp. 61-62). An indigenous "pigmy" has failed in a previous attempt to repair the bridge (p. 60). In this tale, although the colonial world is still regarded as appropriate for "the narrative of adventure" (Castle, 2001, p. 147), the aim, as Castle's article suggests, is more toward "British advice and mentoring in the postcolonial relationship" (p. 151). The tale treats of "conservation" rather than outright plunder, for the two English boys, termed "the white hunters" (Waterhouse, p. 60, p. 65), search "the great African forest" (p. 57) to find a rare type of antelope for a zoo. This species was traditionally considered merely as a source of food. The quest is nearly thwarted by a "pigmy" who is jealous of the athleticism of the white boy, and who cuts the repaired bridge (pp. 63-64). However, the British leave it to the other indigenous Africans to solve the situation. They order the errant "pigmy" to repair the damage (p. 64). All is neatly and amicably resolved with the chance discovery of the rare antelope. By concluding with a vignette of the white boys showing photographs of their African exploits to school-friends back in England (p. 66), the tale reveals its connection with earlier stories that use Africa as a site of colonial adventure.
It is clear from the stories discussed above that British males demonstrated the most desirable masculine ideal. In a tale from 1983, it can be seen that such a model of ideal masculinity had altered very little. Hunting stories remained popular in annuals and continued the crucial masculine theme of "adventure," demonstrating exactly how a masculine hero of the late twentieth century should behave when confronted with life-threatening peril on the hunt. This was remarkably similar to the way a young man from the nineteenth century had been expected to behave (Castle, 1996, p. 92; MacKenzie, 1987, pp. 176-198). Such Victorian-derived qualities were modeled by the character of young Tom Taylor in Action Annual 1983, in a picture-tale set in the wilds of South America called "The Quest for the Diamond Egg."9 Tom is here coded as English, which portrays him as superior to both Europeans and indigenous people.10 In this case, the latter are presented as a group, depersonalized and marginalized, having no role in the tale except as semi-naked, arrow-shooting savages, who because of this are obviously unsuitable masculine role models for contemporary readers. The masculine ideal in this tale, like that of the previous stories we have examined, is constructed against both racial and national "others." Tom shows manly qualities of courage, initiative and persistence during the eponymous quest which features a pterodactyl-like creature called the "gosalisk," the gaze of which turns humans to stone. The observation of Fraser & White (1995, p. xvii) is again pertinent here, that "readers are equally instrumental" in the gender construction process. In this tale, as in the previous examples, different styles of masculinity are contrasted for contemporary readers, with Tom's being the one with which most readers might be expected to identify. Tom accompanies a scientist, Dr. Wolfgang Stranger, who also shows courage, initiative and persistence. However, his surname "Stranger" literally points out that the "doctor" is at the very least unconventional. He has a "foreign," more specifically, German-sounding name. Attitudes toward Germans which became entrenched during the two World Wars were extraordinarily slow to break down in children's literature of this type.11 Although as a "scientist" he may well have had a powerful intellect, Dr. Stranger is an inappropriate male role model. Portrayed as arrogant, her is introduced in the first sentence as being guilty of pompous quasi-imperialist attitudinizing. Dr. Stranger considers "himself the greatest explorer in the world," a claim contemporary post-imperial English readers might be expected to find absurd (Action Annual 1983, 1983, p. 89). Dr. Stranger is portrayed not as a conventionally attractive masculine figure, but more like a "mad scientist," a negative stereotype whose origin is probably most closely associated with yet another creative English work, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1818) (Schoene-Harwood, 2000, pp. 166-167). Dr. Stranger has an unkempt, oddly-shaped beard, long hair combed sparsely over a bald pate, and staring eyes under heavy eyebrows which protrude comically from prominent horn-rimmed spectacles. Reminiscent of his literary precursor, Dr. Stranger has a large, physically powerful but treacherous underling (called a "manservant" in the text) whose name, "Troll," draws upon a further cluster of Northern European stereotypes. Troll is useful to do the expedition's heavy work, but his later despicable conduct demonstrates that it takes more than mere brawn to be an appropriate masculine model. Dr. Stranger is thrice inappropriate, for as well as being "foreign" and unprepossessing in appearance, he is a poor judge of servant character.
However, he is more fortunate in Tom, who supports him loyally, demonstrating yet another desirable manly trait. In contrast to the depiction of Dr. Stranger and Troll, who appears shaggy and somewhat Neanderthal, Tom is depicted as young, dark-haired, clean-shaven and conventionally good-looking, and would certainly have been intended as the most attractive role model of the three to contemporary readers. Ascending a mountainous track, the group encounters bitter winter weather. Tom and the Dr. Stranger are deserted by Troll, who is seduced by greed for the gosalisk's diamond eggs, revealing himself as morally weak and confirming his inferiority and unsuitability as a masculine role model. Stoically masculine in the face of Troll's desertion, in order to defeat the gosalisk, Tom and Dr. Stranger (like Morton and Flint from "The Lost River") show excellent male teamwork as they deploy a device adapted from Greek mythology. Unlike Morton and Flint, who used guns and dynamite to defeat their enemy, Tom and Dr. Stranger manufacture an ice-mirror, which destroys the beast by reflecting its own image.12 There are obvious elements of fantasy to this tale, but as can be seen from "I Fire Off My Waistcoat Buttons," fantasies about unusual weaponry also occurred in earlier tales. There is yet one more common element between these two tales, for at the quest's conclusion, having foolishly lost the precious diamond eggs, Troll returns to the party and assumes his subservient role. An issue of typology as related to social class also occurs here, for like Fos from much earlier in the century, Troll is clearly a "servant-type" and therefore a far less appropriate and desirable masculine role model. In their quest for manhood, twentieth century boys, like those from the Victorian period, were actively encouraged to search for adventure, and if this were not possible in the real world, then it could be attained vicariously by reading magazines, annuals and gift books.
"Cowboys" and "Space Cowboys" as Manly Models: 1910s-1980s
Contemporaneous with the studied portrayal of "manly" behavior in children's adventure tales of the later Victorian period was another very important trend, "the increased differentiation of genders," which Nelson (1991) ascribes to the influence of "Darwinism [. . .] and the decline of religious faith" as well as to "the evolving cultural constructions of sexuality" (p. 30). Females are completely absent from the picture presented in the above tales that model ideal manliness for young readers. It is as though material devised for children had to be purged of distracting or competing images that might confuse the clarity of the message. The boys' annuals from which these tales were drawn are aimed at teenage male audiences and are almost entirely devoid of female presence. However, those few occasions when female characters do appear are worth examination.
One such tale occurs in The Triumph Adventure Book and is interesting for its rare presentation of a female character who is not instantaneously and completely marginalized and retains a "presence" throughout the story. This female character has a purpose, for in the tale, masculinity is defined against the feminine as well as against racial "others." The tale, titled "The Cattle Raid," is loaded with contemporary signifiers of "masculinity" such as whiteness, courage, physical fitness and willingness to take risks (Hornibrook, c. 1917).13 It features a young woman, Alice Vanholte, an orphaned heiress to a huge cattle ranch, whose role in the tale is to be protected by her gallant white male neighbors from villainous cattle raiders led by a "half-Indian" named "Redskin Jake." Alice Vanholte is a domesticated female "other" and therefore incapable of real self-defence. She is served only by female retainers and African-Americans who are stereotypes of subservience. One is named "Aunt Sally"14 and another "Sambo."15 The young African-American male servant is portrayed as "fidgety," cunning and cowardly, and is clearly meant to be perceived as inadequate for the "man's job" of defending his mistress' realm (Hornibrook, c. 1917, no pagination). Like many "wild west" tales written for readers of English annuals, this one reads like a tale of knightly valor (Farley, 2008) and Alice is referred to mostly as "Miss Vanholte" and presented as a "Cattle Queen." This has the dual effect of placing her neatly on a pedestal and firmly outside the tale's action, although she nurses the wounded fallen in her service. Having been defended doughtily, she rewards her troops by inviting them to breakfast for their service, which she tells them was carried out "bravely and manfully" (Hornibrook, c. 1917, no pagination). "Manliness" is defined here by its contrast to the triple threat presented by the "desperate band of outlaws and mixed races," the powerlessness of Alice Vanholte's African-American servants, and by Alice herself, the grateful female recipient of the white men's gallantry and physical courage.
Despite her stereotyping, Alice Vanholte had a role, a name and a physical presence. In later boys' annuals, the marginalization of females is almost total and thus far only one tale is discoverable that compares directly with "The Cattle Raiders." This tale is also a "western" from a 1955 boys' annual. The tale, attributed to Brad Barton, is titled "No-Guns 'English'," and comes from the Golden West Annual.16 Unusually for tales from the Cold War period, this story has a strong "anti-gun" theme and is possibly intended to contrast supposed "English" and "American" attitudes toward firearms. It deals, as the title suggests, with English masculinity, and the role model provided is that of an Englishman "out west." Transatlantic rivalries were often played out in children's "wild west" tales produced by English writers (Farley, 2008) and the title foregrounds the word "English." A model of English masculinity is constructed in this tale against a national "other," the American "Westerner," as well as against the feminine. "English" is the nickname of a character called Vivian Berkely Bedford, who arrives at a Texan cattle ranch seeking work. "English" is "tall, bronzed with eyes of pale blue and hair that was a lighter tan than his face" (Barton, 1955, p. 76). As well as possessing a healthy, outdoors air, English is an exemplum of correct posture. His legs are described as "long and straight" (p. 76). The writer's usage of a slightly perplexing periphrasis has English walking "easily on the outer edges of his feet" (p. 76) suggesting that his "long and straight" legs are being contrasted with the bowed legs of the American "cowpokes" (p. 76). English refuses to carry a gun, which also sets him apart from the "Westerners," who interpret this as foolish until he points out to them that "every man in Texas would be after the killer of an unarmed man" (p. 77). The "Westerners" accept this good-naturedly and, remarkably for this period, nobody points out that such a philosophy might be cold comfort to the victim's relatives. English trains the other ranch hands in useful English sports such as running, wrestling and boxing (p. 77).
An orphaned girl called Linda, a niece of the owner, also lives on the ranch. As well as being female, Linda is reputed to be of partial indigenous descent, rendering her doubly useful as a foil for the construction of masculinity. Linda is neither domesticated automatically nor placed carefully on a pedestal like Alice Vanholte, but instead carries a gun and shoots outlaws.17 However, English does not approve of this (p. 78). The fact that no reason is provided by the author for such disapproval indicates the presence of an assumption that the contemporary reader would accept as "natural": the disapproval of an ideal male of such conduct in a female. Linda is infuriated by his disapproval (p. 78). However, when she is threatened by a rattlesnake, her gun proficiency is useless and English displays masculine courage, initiative and coolness by gripping the snake's tail, cracking it like a whip, and breaking its neck (p. 80). This passage underscores the suspicion that, despite appearing as an independent and powerful personality, as a female Linda is in the tale mainly to reinforce the presentation of ideal masculinity when she is rescued from peril by English. The tale has sub-textual elements of violence. A particularly unpleasant one is that of the dominance/submission idea that might be symbolized by the action of a male "cracking a whip" near a female. Another is that the tale's "anti-gun" message is somewhat compromised by the passage in which English seizes the guns of one of the other men and demonstrates that he is an excellent shot by killing three men. English's shooting ability, which could be categorized as a sporting talent, might have proven rather more attractive to young male readers than the noble masculine role model who eschewed guns. Perhaps this is why at the tale's ending, when they become romantically linked, English tells Linda that his reason for refusing to carry guns is that he accidentally shot and killed his sister during a "stage shooting act" (p. 86). An adult reader might discover more than a hint of menace in this revelation, by which Linda is understandably "appalled." The tale closes with her declaration that they are "going to be a no-gun family" (p. 86).
The only other later tale currently discoverable that compares with this is "Games of Peril" from Space Wars: Fact and Fiction, an boys' annual from 1980, in which in a blending of generic conventions the adventure is summed up in the final paragraph as similar to that of "those old-time gunmen of the American West" (Space Wars: Fact and Fiction; NN, 1980b, p. 56). In "Games of Peril," an expedition to the planet Arvan is carried out by "three Earthmen and an attractive red-haired Earthwoman" (p. 50). Not much detail is provided about the personality of the Earthwoman, but perhaps in acknowledgement of her fantasy literature status as "one of Earth's top nuclear scientists" she is designated "Dr. Jill Mandrake" (p. 51), which recalls the various fantasies connoted by the word "mandrake" (Evans, 1993, p. 681). Although Dr. Mandrake has three token opportunities to demonstrate her intellect, her role is miniscule, for the story is really about the construction of ideal masculinity in the form of the action-packed schedule of "Rex Blane, Space Commander," who along with the two other brave Earthmen, must save Dr. Mandrake by defeating the Arvanian "Hebragryffs," a group of prehistoric-looking monsters unleashed by Karnak, a crazed "dictator-in-exile" (p. 55). Karnak, who resides on Arvan, is demonstrably not a good masculine role model, and his evil influence is outweighed easily by the bold and decisive actions of the three Earthmen. Dr Mandrake demonstrates what seems meant to be read as a "feminine" quality of empathy when she produces "tears of sympathy" for the hapless victims of Rex Blane's "regulation blaster" (p. 56), the space-age equivalent of the Colt pistols of the "American West." The men, of course, do not cry.
Women appeared rarely in boys' annuals, and even the minimal delineation of character such as that provided for Alice Vanholte, Linda and Dr. Mandrake is extremely unusual. Marginalization of females illustrates for itself the idea that women had no place in the exclusively masculine domain, the "man's world" of the boy's annual.
Manliness at School: Fisticuffs, Theatricals and Cross-Dressing
As well as hunting stories, numerous school stories also appeared in boys' annuals. Ideological "athleticism" was a powerful influence in English education between 1860 and 1940 (Mangan, 1981, p. 1). As noted above, in tales in the annuals not all manly battles were fought with technology and manufactured weapons. Ideal men were "fighters" and therefore skill at boxing was part of the identity of the masculine "sporting hero." Until the late 1950s, pugilism was a leitmotif of short stories for boys. Moreover, up to this point, tales about boxing were often utilized to construct masculinity against "others" of various types.18 One such tale was "Punch" by Bruce Baker (Baker, c. 1938, pp. 25-32). This boxing tale constructed ideal masculinity against class and was possibly written with the notion that in the approaching conflict all classes should "pull together" for the good of the Empire. In the African colonies, Bob Spence and "Bad" Burton have a boxing match in which young Spence, "not long out of England" (p. 25), invokes and fights by "Queensberry Rules." He defeats Burton, whose coarse speech and boorish conduct reveal him to be of a lower social class.19 In "Punch," Burton is represented as unreconstructed "brute force," scorning the "Rules," giving vent to "swinish" grunts, and delivering smashing punches (pp. 29-3 1).20 Pugilistic tales also constructed masculinity deliberately against the feminine. This occurs in a tale from 1951 called "Straight-Left Strudwick" (Groom, 1951, pp. 89-106).21 Young Bertram Strudwick is "mollycoddled" by his spinster Aunt Emily, but resents "her affectionate but aggravating attentions" (p. 90). Aunt Emily calls her nephew "Bertie," which makes him "wince" (p. 89). Otherwise, the boy is always referred to as Bertram. The idea of "naming" as a crucial marker of masculine identity is prominent in this story, as is a constricting 1950s view of masculinity. In this context, a rhetorical question is posed behind which there seems to be an assumption that the audience "naturally" will understand why the question is being posed. The question arises because of Bertram's "inordinate love of music" (p. 90), which is associated strongly in this tale with the "feminine." The question is bald and occurs early in the narrative: "Was Bertram Strudwick a Cissie?" (p. 90). The tale deals with the question in terms of the boy's gradual resolution of his masculine identity, just as through boxing Bertram evolves into "Straight-Left Strudwick." As he finds his "true" masculine identity, musical evenings are superseded by the "clang" of the bell that opens the pugilistic bouts. Aunt Emily's role is to provide the antithesis of her nephew's construction of masculine identity.
Glover & Kaplan (2000) acknowledge the "[i]ntensive cultural work" that must go into "securing masculinity" (p. 80). Boys' annuals were part of the culture of middleclass childhood and contributed to the "work" of constructing a standardized and constricting masculine paradigm for boys. In annuals, representations of masculinity were constructed carefully in ways that left little scope for variation. And these ideas had consequences. Attention has been drawn in recent years to the difficulties of growing up in a world where "muscles equal manliness" (Dotson, 1999, pp. ix-xxi). The work of clinical psychologist William Pollack deals with "the rules and expectations that come from outdated and highly dysfunctional gender stereotypes" (Pipher, 1999, p. xvii) and suggests that "masculinity" is still highly problematic. However, in a representative sampling of annuals from later decades of the twentieth century, it can be seen that, although pugilism and boxing feature strongly up until the late 1950s, references to them as crucial markers of masculinity diminish considerably and tales instead show men using scientific and mechanical technologies in their manly battles.
In school stories, masculinity was often defined in terms of physical fitness, sporting achievements and prowess, with the ideal sporting hero a familiar figure in boys' annuals by the 1920s.22 In material from Frank Richards, the pen name of prolific children's writer Charles Hamilton, the overweight boy Billy Bunter was perhaps the most frequent target of scorn, often for his lack of sporting ability. An illustration from an annual of the early 1920s shows Bunter inelegantly recumbent on a sports field being laughed at by others (Greyfriars Holiday Annual 1925, 1923, p. 78). Because many schools were single-sex, an intensely physical masculinity was also defined against the "intellectual" or the studious boy, who was frequently derided as effeminate. This type of definition persisted and possibly relates to the stereotype of the "mad scientist" as "stranger" or "outsider" that was mentioned previously. Occasionally, however, and in a way that did not occur in the 1950s, the male/female binary was complicated. It was, for example, permissible to look slightly pretty if one was in other ways "manly." The 1921 Australasian Boy's Annual includes a story called "The Ragging of 'Lady' Bird" which demonstrates this quirk (Nendick, 1921, pp. 142-148).23 At school, young Sidney Bird is nicknamed "Lady" for his "delicate, handsome features [...], soft, musical voice [...], neat, almost dainty, appearance and a certain shy aloofness of manner" which seems to his schoolfellows to "savour of swank" (p. 142). This boy attracts even more scorn when, challenged to a fist-fight by an older, tougher student, he is unable to attend (p. 143). However, the reason for this is that "Lady" is busy saving two younger boys from fiery peril, thus demonstrating his manliness. The "ragging" ceases forthwith (p. 148). In the 1927 Howard Baker Greyfriars Holiday Annual, a black-and-white illustration of a schoolboy character named "Teddy Grace" calls Teddy "Prince of Japers." Teddy Grace is depicted as a fair-haired boy with a "girlish" look, but the wording on the illustration warns the viewer that "he is not as soft as he looks," being a "joker" of considerable daring. Likewise, his central portrait is surrounded by smaller illustrations that show Teddy's "japing" activities around the school premises (Howard Baker Greyfriars Holiday Annual; NN, 1927, p. 167). Idealized manly "hardihood" was the antithesis of the "soft"-ness mentioned in this illustration, and in one of the smaller illustrations Teddy is shown being pursued by a schoolmaster with a cane. Ability to withstand physical hardships or to "take" various types of "punishment" was also one of the markers of ideal manliness, stressed particularly by both the "adventure" trope and schoolboy story.24
On occasion, boys appeared in female clothing in boys' annuals. Although ostensibly entertaining for boys, the purpose behind this material seems to have been to convey a message that "cross-dressing" was inappropriate. Perhaps increased socio-cultural differentiation of genders was a reason for the appearance of cross-dressing in schoolboy tales in annuals from the early part of the twentieth century. Writers of these tales took special care to use certain conventions when introducing what might appear to be a "tampering" with ideal masculinity. In examples from the late 1920s, cross-dressing is presented clearly as "role-play" as in amateur theatricals. It is tempting to think of this as an allusion to gender as performance and to speculate whether these were attempts to negotiate a masculine safety zone within a sphere that may have been perceived as "feminine" because of its accoutrements of costume and makeup. However, cross-dressing in all these stories is a source of both conflict and plot complication. Rather than challenging the gender binary, these stories were more likely to have been intended to bolster a conventionally ideal masculinity by enacting what Nendick's title and tale suggest was the more common practice, that is, of distancing and disparaging the female or "feminine" as "other."
In a 1928 annual, a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's H.M.S. Pinafore is the setting for a tale of schoolboy mischief entitled "Musical Comedy at Rookwood" in which a student named Arthur Newcombe burlesques a girl (Silver, 1927, pp. 151-152). The illustration accompanying the piece shows a performance obviously "staged" for a special occasion and the piece bears the subtitle of "Grand Performance of 'H.M.S Pinafore'." It is interesting that this tale ends in a communal bout of fisticuffs. Glover & Kaplan (2000) note the importance of the "fight scene" in imparting a "protective quality" to both participants in and spectators of performances that otherwise might involve hints of an "erotic subtext" (p. 153). Perhaps the "free-fight" that concludes the musical romps at Rookwood was a more comfortable masculine safety zone for readers as well as for the fictional schoolboy characters. The choice of the name "Arthur Newcombe" is intriguing, hinting at the sending up of a Victorian ideal of boyhood, namely, George Arthur from Thomas Hughes' Tom Brown's Schooldays. Nelson (1991) discusses in some detail the relationship between Tom Brown and the gentle, androgynous "Arthur" (pp. 42-47). In this story, the choice of the surname "Newcombe" could be a pun, suggesting a "new" version of this schoolboy character for a knowing, contemporary audience. Interestingly, the same Gilbert and Sullivan opera is utilized in another school tale called "That Mysterious Clue" in which a cast member named Stephen Trefusis is found injured in the headmaster's study "in his stage dress of white silk" (Abbot, c. 1928, p. 100). In this scenario, which seems somewhat incautious of contemporary gender conventions, use of the unusual surname "Trefusis" recalls in hindsight the novelist Violet Trefusis (1894-1972), who William Amos (1985) maintained was "[r]emembered for her lesbian relationship with Victoria Sackville-West rather than for her books" (p. 443). Despite the careful use of such a window-dressing apparatus as the amateur theatrical, it appears from the comparative rarity of such portrayals that there was discomfort with the idea of cross-dressing. Story-telling conventions aside, in all examples known so far, deliberate cross-dressing was portrayed as leading inevitably to awkward, embarrassing or dangerous complications for the cross-dresser, and therefore as a pastime probably best avoided by sensible characters. One story, titled "The Perfect Lady," illustrates this moral in a telling manner (Firth, c.1928, pp. 192-198).25 In generic literature aimed at developing the masculine character of male readers, writers probably hoped this message would be absorbed.
As far as is currently discoverable, cross-dressing as such is absent from later boys' annuals. When "dressing-up" does occur, it is always associated with "theatricals" of different types. In the late 1960s, however, boys were permitted to contemplate briefly the notion of "dressing up." In a 1967 annual, there is a tale called "Clooey the Clown" (Grimsley, 1967, pp. 22-31) in which young Jack Fingel takes over the role of the circus clown from his ailing father. A subtle but intriguing juxtaposition occurs of the two phrases "painted lips" and "rubber-like face" with the phrase "comical disgust" as Jack's father in his clown make-up discusses with Jack falling audience numbers (p. 23). There is little description of the actual "dressing-up" phase and far more stress on the idea that Jack is a "born clown" with "the blood of three generations of clowns in his veins" (pp. 28-29). However, "dressing-up" is again fraught with hazard, and the tale moves swiftly sideways into manly "action" as Jack is kidnapped by a circus rival (another clown) and must use his wits to triumph. The rival is a clown named "White Eye," who threatens Jack viciously while still in costume and make-up. White Eye is portrayed as jealous and "savage" (p. 27). A made-up, costumed clown should be a friendly figure, but in this case the make-up and costume are perhaps intended to emphasize the evil or perverseness inherent in Jack's adversary. "Dressing-up" also appears similarly associated with perverseness in Tiger Annual 1969 in a tale about "The Great Irving Thespius," the protagonist of "The Great Thespius's Christmas Caper" (Tiger Annual; NN, 1968, pp. 9-14). Although no direct "proper" masculine role model appears in this tale, it is still an occasion for the construction of masculinity which again takes place against a national "other." The dubious pleasures of "dressing-up" are associated with ambiguity and deviance in the form of glamorous "American" criminality. As mentioned previously, transatlantic rivalry was often played out by English writers in the "rural" context of America's "Wild West." This tale, however, shifts the rivalry to an "urban" context. The story is set in Los Angeles where Irving Thespius is a master criminal, "a declared outlaw, a gangster in the grand tradition, and decreed public-enemy number one" (p. 10). Thespius is an intriguing figure, obviously very far from an ideal, conventional English masculine role model such as No-Guns English. This tale also constructs ideal masculinity against class "others," utilizing notions of "aristocratic" decadence to suggest that an ideal man should not possess certain qualities. The story opens with Thespius in his chauffeured limousine (p. 9). He wears an astrakhan coat and a bearskin rug for warmth and as he is conveyed through the dark streets his "noble features" bear "the smile of snug contentment achieved only by aristocrats and fireside cats" (p. 9). He is also cruel to his servants (p. 10). Despite these problems, Thespius, a "once renowned actor," cuts an impressive (albeit slightly depraved) figure as, clad in "shining top hat, full evening dress, white tie and tails, splendid scarlet-lined opera cloak, and swinging a heavy, silver-knobbed cane easily in his long white fingers" (p. 12), he uses hypnotic powers to steal an elaborate Christmas meal from a hotel for a troop of mistreated and hungry cadets. Thespius has aspects of a "Robin Hood" figure, but with a curious layer of ambiguity. He is a male criminal of a serious type, and he is associated directly with the acts of dressing up and wearing make-up. Having procured the cadets a free meal, Thespius seizes the opportunity to don "costume and make-up" to stage "a free show" for them (p. 14). A cynical adult reader might marvel at this apparent altruism and speculate as to Thespius' motive toward the boys.
The powerful, mysterious, costumed "performance artist" figure also appeared in later boys' annuals. "The Incredible Adventures of Janus Stark" was a less ambiguous English variant (Valiant Annual; NN, 1974, pp. 57-64). Though described as "a master escapologist in Victorian England" (p. 57), Jonas Stark was possibly a more appropriate role model for boys than Irving Thespius, for Stark was openly altruistic and was differentiated sharply from the thieving Thespius by the fact that he devoted "much of his time to earning money for deserving charities" (p. 57). Also, Stark's "English Victorian" setting legitimated his wearing elegant evening dress and he bore a strong facial resemblance to the melodramatic pulp-fiction hero, "The Shadow" (Gibson, 1979, p. 1). Stark's activities as an "avenger" are similar to those of this figure, also a character on the radio and movie screen (pp. 94-117). Janus Stark continued to appear at least until 1981 (Valiant Annual, 1980, pp. 18-23). Another article from the same annual is almost invisible amid the generic welter of ideologically masculine material of battle, sport and action. This is a photo article that concerns the BBC children's television show "Stopwatch" in which a male presenter is shown receiving make-up (Valiant Annual, 1981 pp. 88-93). However, the photograph is treated carefully, being juxtaposed with three photographs of a female "tennis star," Sue Barker, a show guest who is also shown receiving make-up. At this period, television was a field in which greatly increased prospects of employment were emerging. Gender roles are obvious in this photo article in which a male/female professional dichotomy is clear. Technicians and the people shown obviously giving orders are all males. The make-up artist is female and two other women are watching a man who speaks through a microphone. As an expanding field of employment, television was an area of which young male annual readers needed to be made aware and its potential as a field of male employment and status was touted pragmatically.
Ideal Young Masculinity: A Durable Template
Links between later twentieth-century annuals and a Victorian-derived ideal of English manhood can also be established through physicality, sport and their juxtaposition with new technologies. In 1912, Amalgamated Press claimed that their boys' papers encouraged "physical strength [...], patriotism [...], interest in travel and exploration, and [...] pride in our empire" (Carpenter & Prichard, 1995, p. 239). Annual readers from the 1910s mostly had a construct of gender hierarchy in which the primary or "central" subject, against which everything "other" or "else" was usually defined, was English, male, white and middle-class. This was a persistent notion. An example is to be found in an illustration titled "When Schooldays End!" from the late 1920s. Its central figure is a schoolboy in uniform, seated in a comfortable armchair, daydreaming of his future. He is surrounded by smaller illustrations of various male role models, many of whom use modern technologically advanced equipment (Greyfriars Holiday Annual, 1927, p. 101). In these smaller illustrations, men in appropriate clothing ride horses and motorcycles, and fly aeroplanes. Mastery of their natural environment is enhanced by technology as they fight fires, wild animals and wars, ascend mountains, sail oceans, and go on safari. This illustration might usefully be treated as a directional template of ideal masculinity, for it is subtitled revealingly "Day-dreams of What the Future May Hold" and shows clearly the type of manly role model a contemporary English teenage boy should see in "day-dreams" of his future, engaged in the type of employment to which he, as a male, could and should aspire. Racial, national and feminine "others" are absent from the daydream. Scientists and theatrical looking types do not appear in the illustration, and the only role model presented as engaged in what might be termed "creative activity" (perhaps in a self-serving reference to the person who produced the illustration) is an artist, shown here not producing intricate, delicate or decorative work, but applying paint to a large canvas. And so was "the Future" sketched out for youthful male readers of annuals. In popular children's publications, depiction of the "active" adult male role model for the late 1920s and onwards valorized this male role model, revealing also a powerfully positivist association of technological progress with desirable male identity.
This template did not change, nor did its treatment of racial, national and feminine "others." In the mid-1950s, the cover of The Triumph Book for Boys foregrounds two very tidy boys against the backdrop of an industrialized, yet still green and pleasant landscape over which flies a streamlined, advanced-looking aircraft. All the tales in The Triumph Book are focused upon possible career choices for contemporary English boys and details are given of practical steps as to how to enter these careers. A Modern Boys Annual of the early 1960s has a cover illustration designed along very similar lines to the "template" illustration of the 1920s, showing a smiling boy in cricket whites, surrounded by small black and white photographic images of masculine "action" and interactions with modern machinery and technology. Dean's New Leisure Book for Boys gives yet another version in full color of the athletic, technologically aware male role model for readers of 1968. The Sun Annual for Boys 1974 also depicts on its cover four large and smaller colored photographic images of the idealized sporting/action/technology masculine paradigm. Valiant Annual 1981 crystallizes this paradigm further with its brightly colored cover illustration of what might be termed an "iconic" test of manly athleticism, stamina and mechanical savoir faire-a motorcycle race. This is a photograph in which four trim and wiry motorcycle riders, watched by a background crowd blurred by a haze of reddish dust, are rounding a curve. Again, there is no doubt as to which specific type of ideal masculinity is being modelled in this illustration. The two motorcyclists who are winning wear British flags. Two "others," who wear different colors, are partially obscured. Modern technology, which from the 1920s onwards also symbolized male victory or mastery over different environmental hazards or conditions, is still utilized in this late twentieth century material as an extension of specifically male strength and capability. Such material helps to demonstrate visually the remarkable fact that, until the 1980s, a very similar paradigm of "manliness" was presented by English annuals for the instruction and entertainment of young readers.
The boys' annual, which had developed as a literary form during the Victorian period, was designed to instruct and entertain boys and became a familiar and very popular form of recreational reading. Material in these annuals reproduced and reinforced for an uncritical readership dominant contemporary social ideologies about gender, race and class. For much of the twentieth century, a particular paradigm of masculinity was presented. In the earlier part of the twentieth century, the definition of an English masculine ideal was unambiguous and easily and understandably identifiable with the Victorian paradigm. During the post-World War I period, a slightly less prescriptive set of masculine possibilities was presented to readers with the inclusion in boys' annuals of the ideas of theatre and dressing-up, but this phenomenon was both short-lived and ideologically compromised. In later decades, the masculine ideal as depicted in English boys' annuals solidified into a stereotype which allowed little possibility for variation and in which emphasis was placed on courage, physicality, manual competence, loyalty and emotional stoicism as the chief markers of "manliness." This was virtually identical with paradigms of "manliness" from the Victorian period. Thus, English annuals modelled and inscribed an increasingly old-fashioned masculinity and preserved older ideologies. A stereotypical style of masculinity derived from the Victorian period was reiterated in boys' annuals and persisted remarkably unchanged until late in the twentieth century.
1 Annuals often have words such as "splendid," "jolly," "holiday," "happy" and "popular" in their titles.
2 See also Poovey (1989, pp. 2, 6). Glover and Kaplan (2000, p. 69) note that George Mosse's The Image of Man "dates the origins of the new manly ideal" to the late 18th Century. Warren (1987, p. 200) links such "straightforward" qualities of "popular manliness" as "directness, honesty, decency, duty and honour" with the powerful influence of the Victorian popular moralist, Samuel Smiles.
3 See also Space Wars: Fact and Fiction (1980) whose title makes plain the annual's blending of the two types. A picture-article, "The Merchant Navy" in Lion Annual 1983 (NN, 1982, pp. 14-15), is one of a "factual" series called "Yesterday's Heroes."
4 See, for example, Adventure Land (c. 1924, facing p. 164) where a color illustration entitled "A Man's Job" shows an oilskin-clad youth standing on the deck of a boat in stormy weather. He carries a lantern and has one hand on the rudder as he gazes steadfastly at the ocean. See also Clark (1988, pp. 78-79). Adventure Land, first produced in 1923, was derived from Thomson's Adventure magazine. See also the cover illustration of Duff (1946). This image from a postWorld War II volume is strikingly similar to that from the mid-1920s described above: a sea-captain holding binoculars surveys a darkened ocean from the deck of a ship. See also Kirkpatrick (2000, pp. 104-105). Douglas Valder Duff (1910-1978), the author of more than ninety books in this genre, served in both World Wars. He used the pen-names of Leslie Savage, Douglas Stanhope, and Peter Wickloe.
5 This book has no pagination. Nothing is discoverable currently about the author.
6 See also Lofts & Adley (1970, p. 259). This could be the writer called K. Orme who also used the pen-name of Martin Clifford.
7 Mills (1997, pp. 120, 109). Among problematic stereotypes valorized by entrenched discursive practices in writing about colonized people were "the inscrutable Chinese, the untrustworthy Arab [and] the docile Hindu."
8 See for example, Orme (c. 1934 facing p. 33). The heroes cast off their disguise of "Arabian-style" cloaks beneath which they are clad in Western "safari"-style shirts, trousers and boots, in contrast to the skirt-like garment of the sentry they overpower. See also Waterhouse (1968, pp. 57-66), where nationality is linked strongly to dress: the English wear vests and shorts to sleep and safari suits and hats to hunt. The indigenous Africans always wear skirt-like garments.
9 "The Quest for the Diamond Egg," in ActionAnnual 1983 (NN, 1983, pp. 89-96). This tale has strong elements of science fiction fantasy in its use of a "lost world" setting that contains a mythical beast linked to a fantastic treasure.
10 The coding is in the context of this 1980s English annual, which in its conventional style would draw attention to what must be termed "essentialist" racial or national differences of "others" by use of personal names and essentialist or stereotyped characteristics and/or illustrations. If a nationality were not stated outright, and in the absence of such markings, it was conventional to accept that the character was British or English.
11 As during the period between the First and Second World Wars, in the 1960s and 70s, "war" was the "most powerful theme" for boys (Drotner, 1988, p. 243). Thus, anti-German sentiment was perpetuated in popular literature for decades following the cessation of outright hostilities.
12 See March (1998, pp. 337-338). Perseus defeats the Gorgons, whose gaze turned humans to stone by only looking at their reflection in the polished bronze shield loaned to him by Athena. Tales in annuals borrowed constantly and liberally from other literary genres and traditions.
13 See also Lofts & Adley (1970, p. 197) which mentions a JL. Hornibroke, who may be partially responsible for this tale.
14 In Evans (1993), "Aunt Sally" is defined as a "game in which sticks or cudgels are thrown at a wooden (woman's) head mounted on a pole" (pp. 59-60).
15 According to Castle (1996), "Sambo," an African stereotype from popular "minstrel" theatre, was derived from "the American experience of slavery and its aftermath, and had served in the United States to neutralize the threat" from freed slaves (pp. 97-99).
16 Barton (1955, pp. 75-86). Nothing is discoverable currently about the author. See also Clark (1988, pp. 106-107). The Golden West Annual was one of numerous "wild west" annuals produced by English publishers between the late 1940s and 1960s. The "wild west" annual is possibly most familiar as the "Buffalo Bill" annual produced by the English publisher TV. Boardman, who during World War II had been the London agent of an American publisher.
17 See Farley (2008). To teach children "white" customs, conventional gender assumptions operated in "wild west" tales, with lip service occasionally paid to the toughness of the "wild west" female. See also Barton (1955, p. 75). In "No-Guns 'English'," an essentialist stereotyping operates in the drawing of Linda.
18 See Bould (2008). I discussed this point with Mark Bould (University of the West of England), who suggested as a possible reason for this change that black men had at this period begun seriously to challenge white dominance in the boxing ring.
19 See Castle (1996, pp. 106-107, p. 120). Burton is a "simian" character but also a highly successful trader and seems cast partially in the mould of "Singleton the Searcher" from the Chums story paper (c. 1910s). See also Drotner (1988, pp. 104-105). Singleton was a descendant of the Victorian popular fiction hero Jack Harkaway, written about beginning in 1871 by Bracebridge Hemyng and presented as a new type of English schoolboy hero. Singleton was perhaps a perversion of this ideal Victorian hero. Burton's own most prominent "simian" descendant is possibly Captain Hurricane of the Marines, a hefty, brutal male stereotype from the 1960s-1980s (e.g. NN, 1980a). "Captain Hurricane" was a picture story in the Valiant story paper (1961-1978). Hurricane was unsubtle, bellicose and domineering. It might be thought that his portrayal marked a change in perception of "masculine" qualities. However, Captain Hurricane (who bears a strong illustrative resemblance to "Bad" Burton) is literally a caricature of militaristic aggression, and no change occurs in his portrayal from the 1960s to the 1980s. Captain Hurricane fought with fists and weapons and was intended to entertain with a secondary message that such extreme behavior was not the masculine ideal.
20 Burton shows that he really is an antecedent of Captain Hurricane who relied heavily upon this approach.
21 See also Lofts & Adley (1970, p. 164). Children's writer Arthur William Groom (18981964) was a journalist, public speaker and broadcaster who wrote over 100 books. Groom specialized in scouting and wrote features for and about children. See also Kirkpatrick (2000, p. 143).
22 See, for example, "Bob Cherry of Greyfriars," in Howard Baker Greyfriars Annual (NN, 1927; facsimile 1970, p. 100) for a black and white illustration of Bob as "one of the best allround schoolboy sportsmen." In this illustration, the figure of Bob Cherry stands at the centre of several smaller portraits showing his prowess at various sports such as cricket, rugby, swimming, boxing and vaulting.
23 Annuals produced for overseas markets mostly contained material written by English writers. See Lofts & Adley (1970, p. 255). Victor R. Nendick wrote for several boys' weeklies.
24 Conquest (1927, pp. 162-183). This tale supplies particularly harsh "examples of undeserved punishment at school." See also Lofts & Adley (1970, p. 101). The pen-name "Owen Conquest" was one of many used by Charles Hamilton, but was also utilized by several writers when stories by Hamilton were unavailable.
25 Nothing is