Most people know Willis Conover (1920 – 1996), if they know him at all, as one of the great impresarios of jazz: co-founder of the Newport Folk Festival, jazz DJ on the Voice of America for decades (and one of the reasons Eastern Europe’s vibrant jazz scene managed to survive the Cold War), a collector who owned more than 60,000 (no, there’s not an extra zero in there) recordings at the time of his death.
Even when I was writing a lot of music journalism, jazz was never a special passion of mine (oh sure, enough of a passion for me to bring that enthusiasm to Gabriel’s Trumpet, but not the kind of visceral connection I have with blues, country, or punk). So why, you might rightly ask, is Willis Conover showing up on this blog?
Before of all of that, Willis Conover had another life. As a teenager in 1930s Maryland, he got into science fiction (or “scientifiction,” a portmanteau of Gernsback’s still in wide use at the time) and, to a lesser extent, fantasy (then spelled with a “ph” as often as an “f”). Deeply into. With the same methodical thoroughness he would later apply to studying jazz and collecting jazz records, he began studying science fiction and collecting both pulps and fan magazines. At the age of 16, he began publishing a fan magazine of his own, The Science Fantasy Correspondent. In an era when many fan magazines made modern ‘zines look like papers-of-record, Correspondent stood out for the quality of both its production and content.
Cover Images from the Willis Conover Collection: University of North Texas
In fact, Correspondent drew the attention of a certain Weird Fiction author from Providence who contacted Conover, telling him how much he liked the publication. The ensuing correspondence between Conover and Lovecraft would continue throughout the rest of Lovecraft’s life and has been compiled into Lovecraft at Last: The Master of Horror is His Own Words, a complete (or nearly so) collection of their letters. Lovecraft’s friendship and patronage opened doors for Conover to correspondence and friendship with other authors, publishers, and major figures of 1930s fandom.
The public aspects of Conover’s enthusiasm for science fiction and fantasy faded after a couple of years, excluding a secondary period of activity in the 1970s, as his focus turned toward his meritorious service to jazz. He never, however, ceased his correspondence or collecting.
So, why am telling you this?
Unsurprisingly, Conover’s papers ended up at the University of North Texas, one of the country’s better jazz schools (yes, really, look it up), which happens to be located in the town where I live. Among that collection’s 300 boxes, primarily of Conover’s jazz records, interviews, correspondence with musicians, and so forth, are 30 boxes, more or less, connected to his earlier enthusiasm.
Even with briefest examinations of some of those boxes, I am left wondering to quote Pinhead (“We have such sights to show you.”) or Roy Batty (“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe”).
To give a little teaser, inside one obscure Lovecraft volume in the Conover collection, I found the following inscription:
(Photo: Jess Tucker)
To Willis – so you can complete your collection of Lovecraftiana! All the best –
Arthur Clarke
I had no idea Arthur C. Clarke was even a fan of Lovecraft. Compared with that, For Willis Conover, with the hope that we may have an immersive moment or two. Cordially, August Derleth, seems rather prosaic.
Over the coming months, and even years, I expect many of my posts here to focus on things I’ve encountered (I hate the phrase “discovered” when used in connection with archives. The items were, after all, there all along – often listed plainly on the finding aid) in that collection. Things that have inspired me, surprised me, or broadened my horizons. Hell, I might even do some actual research.
One of the SF fan magazines from Conover’s collection.
I’ve spent the past week scrutinizing two boxes containing 175 discrete issues of 46 different science fiction and fantasy fan magazines from the 1930s — full of fiction from names you know, editorials and non-fiction from names you should know, and amazing art that while not always masterful is powerful and evocative — as well as related materials. I would expect my next few Conover-related posts to focus on those.
And just so nobody goes away disappointed, Willis Conover did have a few secrets. One of the first things I encountered was a letter from a young woman who wrote to Conover while both of them were in the army during Word War Two. Her salutation to him was “Daddy Dear,” and the letter gets more interesting from there. It’s not the only thing like that I’ve found…
(Special thanks to Maristella Feustle, Music Special Collections Librarian, and Jess Tucker, University Archivist, both at the University of North Texas, for facilitating my access to the Willis Conover collection)
The Chromatic Court is anthology of horror/dark fantasy anthology exploring the connection between color, art, and the powerful entities of the Cthulhu Mythos, drawing especially heavily on the feel flavor, and weird meanace of Robert W. Chambers’ The King in Yellow.
As someone who has been a fan of the Mythos since college, I’m very excited about this story, and very excited to talk about it. So, I thought I’d play Q & A with myself by sharing the author interview compiled by my publisher.
… also, I may be the first person in the history of the universe to quote Ralph Wiggum while discussing the Cthulhu Mythos.
Q) Tell us about your story?
Johannes Chazot’s Illustration for “The Green Muse.”
A) Set in the fertile artistic and literary scene of 1910s Montmartre, The Green Muse chronicles the journey of Drieu Gaudin, a novice reporter at Paris’ top arts and culture newspaper. His editor, a man of very traditional artistic sensibilities, assigns Drieu to report on the murders of several Cubist painters. Seeking to unravel the mystery behind the artists’ bizarre deaths, Drieu is challenged not only by one of Frank Belknap Long’s most celebrated creations but by encounters with the Parisian avant-gardes’ leading lights: Picasso, Modigliani, Guillaume Apollinaire, and Max Jacob.
Max Jacob waits to encoutner readers in “The Green Muse.”
Q) What is your favorite part of your story and why?
A) This project was a labor of love for me. For a very long time, Paris’ artistic scene in the early part of the 20 th century has captivated me and inspired voracious reading on the topic. The greatest joy of The Green Muse was breathing life into the enchanting world of 1910s Montmartre. Within that broader answer, it was especially gratifying to shine some light on poet Max Jacob, a figure unfortunately and undeservedly less well known than the other historical artists who appear in the story. Spoiler Alert: it was also exciting to expand on the fascinating yet under-explored mythology of the Hounds of Tindalos.
Q) Every story in The Chromatic Court details a noble, a powerful Mythos entity, and the art form they hold sway over. What is your entity’s art and what drew you to it?
A) As anyone familiar with my work is likely aware, music is my greatest passion among the arts. Painting, however, runs a close second. This is especially true of painting from this particular time and this particular place; as artists began grappling with the question of what the invention of photography meant for painting. Movements such as Cubism and Fauvism arose from attempts to answer that critical and vexing question. As Picasso observes in “The Green Muse…”
“Painting is dead. At least painting as you know it. Photography killed it. But, in death, painting is free. Our quest is figuring out where it goes from here.”
“Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!”
Q) In The Chromatic Court, every Mythos entity and their art is also tied into a specific color. What is your noble’s color, and why?
A) As revealed in the title, green. I could point out the relevance of green to the absinthe which features so prominently in the era and in the story, but as Ralph Wiggum says, “The rat symbolizes obviousness.” Less explicitly but more importantly is that color’s connection with envy, specifically the jealousy Montmartre’s artist feel for each other’s success, talent, and romantic prowess. In various forms, jealousy is a driving force for the main characters of “The Green Muse,” Drieu and Cara, as well as some of its historcial figures, like Picasso.
Q) How do you approach writing Mythos fiction, particularly when it’s a mix of the Cthulhu Mythos and Chambers’ Yellow Mythos?
A) For me, the most important element of successful Mythos fiction is believably but compellingly conveying the protagonist’s mental journey from the comforting illusion of everyday life to the sub-rosa Mythos reality beneath. When blending Lovecraft and Chambers, the challenge is balancing the Outer Gods’ concrete if alien terrors with the latent and more diffuse menace of The King in Yellow.
on the second book (still tentatively titled Caledfwlch) in my historical fiction/progressive pulp series is significantly ahead of schedule. So, with the intent of not putting all my writing eggs in a single genre basket, I am dusting off four stories I wrote earlier in the year. While none of them are quite horror, they all nibble at its edges.
In the tradition of Lovecraft’s Arkham and its environs, three of the stories are set in Junzt County, a fictional county within the Texas Hill Country. One of the most historically rich regions of the state, the Hill Country also has the advantage of being an area I’m highly familiar with and offering the right cocktail of isolation and mystery.
The Eye Teeth: Set in the 1940s, is classic weird fiction with strong Cthulhu Mythos overtones. As with my series, historical sources and research play a prominent role. A well-known politician from Texas also puts in a guest appearance in the role of quest-giver.
Pioneer House: This flashback to the 1980 blends weird fiction with an “outsider” archetype protagonist, portrayal of small town ennui, and the question of free will.
So Lonesome I Could Die: Is a 1920s Western Gothic ghost story with nods to “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” The story draws heavily upon my background in music journalism for mood and atmosphere.
The fourth story, and the only contemporary tale, is The Renewal Room, the tale of a music journalist (write what you know, right?) whose quest for a forgotten bit of music history leads him to a town on California’s Salton Sea which is equal parts Arkham and Twin Peaks.
With the exception of So Lonesome I Could Die, these stories were submitted elsewhere and rejected. I will spend the next few weeks retooling and strengthening them prior to submission for other upcoming anthologies or magazines.
So, wish me luck … oh, and Ia, Ia, Cthulhu fhtagn!
![The Chromatic Court by [Rawlik, Peter, Morgan, Christine, Pulver Sr., Joseph S., Mackintosh, Paul StJohn, Lai, Rick, Black, Jon, Grant, John Linwood, Barrass, Glynn Owen, Harris, Micah S.]](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51t9wOT7i1L.jpg)
The Chromatic Court is anthology of horror/dark fantasy anthology exploring the connection between color, art, and the powerful entities of the Cthulhu Mythos, drawing especially heavily on the feel flavor, and weird meanace of Robert W. Chambers’ The King in Yellow.
Jon Black Writes 