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More doodles in my library-copy 50s YA sf books. This, at the very end of Donald Wollheim’s _The Secret of Saturn’s Rings_ (1954).
The movements of the protagonists around Saturn’s satellites were definitely unclear in the narrative, so I can see why the reader felt the need to map them out.
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ALEX SCHOMBURG 1905 ~ 1998 Winston Sci-Fi Artwork ~ 1950’s (via The Golden Age)
(via scientificillustration)
Sketch of Cthulhu drawn by H.P. Lovecraft in 1934:
To R.H. Barlow, Esq., whose Sculpture hath given immortality to this trivial Design of his oblig’d of all servants.
Cthulhu
H.P. Lovecraft
11th May, 1934
Isaac Asimov writes about his Saturday night ritual as a 22 y/o newlywed, working in wartime at the Philadelphia Navy Yard:
“After dinner, I went out and bought the early editions of the two Philadelphia Sunday papers I was not ashamed to read [ed note: because their politics were sufficiently liberal]: the Inquirer and the Bulletin. When I brought them back, I placed them on the kitchen table…
I showered, then made myself a hot chocolate in a large glass, hot and very rich, and placed a half pound of cookies next to it. Those cookies were of a particular type that I have never been able to duplicate anywhere since and that I had bought at the same time I had bought the papers.
Slowly I read the comics of both papers, while dipping the cookies in the hot chocolate and polishing off the entire half-pound, and then drinking the unsopped-up remainder of the hot chocolate…
I then gave Gertrude [his wife] the comics, transferred to the living-room couch, and read all the war news and commentary in the rest of the papers.
All this worked best in the winter, when I would go out for the paper of a frosty evening and then be delighted to return to a warm apartment. Cole Porter’s ‘You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To’ was popular in the winter of 1942-43, and I would hum it as I was going for the papers and cookies, and look forward to returning to apartment and wife. To this day, when I sing that song (especially the line ‘Under stars chilled by the winter’) I find myself back on Spruce Street, going for the papers, and then I remember what I call ‘my Saturday nights’ and I ache with nostalgia.
I suppose they’re not what the average person would think of as good ‘Saturday nights,’ but those were mine.”
-In Memory Yet Green: The Autobiography of Isaac Asimov, 1920-1954 (Doubleday, 1979), 386-387.
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Einstein & childhood. Again. Fodder for the book conclusion.
Tang Yao Hoong, via Visual News.
