Doc Savage, patron of the torn shirt.
Over on the 2000AD forum there is a new thread currently kicking around the possibility of a new pulp anthology. I, for one, am for this anthology. So much so that I've already submitted a script. Not because I possess superhuman writing abilities, or extraordinary precognitive abilities, but because I just so happened to have a suitable script knocking around.
Whether this proposed anthology actually makes it to print, and whether my story ends up in it as entirely a matter for the gods, but the topic of pulp literature is in itself an interesting area of discussion. Why? because pulp is rubbish.
Most fiction is rubbish, of course. But when you consider the meagre sums of money involved in the production of a pulp novella, the hazard of it all being a bit shit is multiplied exponentially.
And yet, nowadays, pulp is venerated. People treat it with far more respect than it was ever afforded when it was at its publishing height. A good parallel case is what Quentin Tarantino and pals have been up to in the past decade: Through films like Kill Bill (1 and 2), Grindhouse, Hostel and more recently Machete, we have seen a resurgence of what in the past was called 'exploitation' cinema.
Genuine exploitation cinema , like pulp literature, was at best a pile of guff (a great resource for info on the worst of the worst is Stuart Ashen's wonderful Trailer Club 70). But Tarantino, Rodriguez and Roth have defiantly tried to take what's unique about the genre and reinject it into contemporary cinema. A noble enterprise. It's a shame their attempts thus far haven't quite measured up.
However, what is important is that they have blown open these sub-genres - the kung fu movie, the car fetishism flick etc. - and given them another shot at respectability. Exploitation was keeping these sub-genres captive and Grindhouse set them free. Now the door is wide open for someone else to come and do a good car fetishism flick and cinema will be all the richer for it.
Similarly, pulp literature has been greedily holding on to its own unique set of sub-genres for a long time and they are in need of rescue from a willing band of literary Scarlet Pimpernels. Crime literature took a long time to find its way out of the dark and on to the best seller list and it's going to take a little longer to drag spicy romance stories into the realm of critical appraisal. It'll be worth it in the end though.
Hopefully, the aforementioned anthology will swim against the tide of nostalgia, take these sub-genres and try and craft unique little tales within their mould.
If it doesn't do this, it doesn't really matter though. It'll leave the door open for better works to sneak in.
Pulp is dead! Long live pulp!
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