Monday, Jan. 23, 1933

Comings, Goings

Constantly shifting like the tumbling specks of color in a kaleidoscope, are the bright covers of magazines dotting a newsstand. Nearly every month some magazine disappears--perhaps several. But their passing discourages new ventures no more than human death affects the birth rate.

The past year saw the end of worthy old World's Work, the birth of an equally serious effort called Economic Forum. Outlook lapsed into coma from which it emerged New Outlook. Police Gazette ended a long senility spent in contemplation of a bawdy prime. In its place sprouted a crop of nasty weeds like Calgary Eye-Opener, published by the ex-wife of Capt. Billy Fawcett. Out went innumerable local sheets like Manhattan's Metropolitan Home Journal. In came innumerable others like William H. Hanna's respectable Minneapolis Opinion, scandal-mongering Detroit Merry Go Round and Hollywood Peep Hole. A handful of woodpulps were junked, twelve published by Fiction House were suspended at one swoop. Babies: Just Babies was born. So were Beer, Metropolitan Mothers' Guide, Family Circle, Pastime, American Spectator, Brass Tacks, Common Sense . . . many, many & many another.

Last week was no exception for comings & goings. Tatler, "society" gossipsheet, followed its old contemporary Town Topics into oblivion. An obscure magazine named Short Shorts quit. The Catholic Boy, first publication of its kind in the U. S., was started in St. Paul. Something called The Moment popped up in Brooklyn. And a loudly ballyhooed Modern Youth appeared.

Modern Youth promises to "record somewhat accurate photographic impressions of life from those whose films are particularly fresh . . . offer many a glimpse of life as it shall be." Contents are limited to the works of authors under 30.

As "The Voice of the Younger Generation," Modern Youth is less articulate than its editor, pretty Viola Ilma, 22, less remarkable than the story she tells of herself: She is the granddaughter of a Swiss Quaker missionary and an Abyssinian princess. Her father calls himself Prince Ali Youssuf Ilma, played character parts on the Manhattan stage. Six years ago Miss Ilma won a $10,000 prize from Liberty for an article. "The Aim of the Modern High School Girl." Liberty last week said it had no record of that award. But Editrix Ilma's story continues: She went around the world, tried to visit her relatives in Abyssinia and to persuade Ras Tafari to appoint her his U. S. agent. Disorder in Palestine prevented. Home again Miss Ilma edited a pulp magazine, wrote fashion news in Cleveland, department store advertising in Manhattan; acted in Floyd Dell's Cloudy with Showers, learned acrobatic dancing, raised $10,000 for her magazine from Mrs. Thomas Lamont, Julian Huxley, any of her friends who would contribute, went to Chicago and got further backing from a printer. She smokes only pipes, has about three dozen of them, got 14 tins of tobacco for Christmas.

A publisher who deliberately tinkers the birth & death rates of magazines as part of his publishing formula is George T. Delacorte Jr. He likes to say that he counts that year ill spent when he does not drop at least $50,000 experimenting with new magazines. His publishing history is dotted with Vol. 1 No. 1's that never lived to be No. 2's. Last year alone he launched, promptly scuttled, Children's Magazine, National Spotlight. But that formula of trying anything at least once gave him Ballyhoo and, lately, the strangely successful Radio Stars.

Last week Publisher Delacorte whipped out a new weekly called Manhattan, an about-town review and amusement guide (price 10-c-) aimed at the mass of subway riders who read Broadway colyumists but not the smart New Yorker. Some of its features, dealing with expensive speakeasies and night clubs, indicate an intent to show Manhattan's probable clientele how the upper crust amuses itself.

Edited by Ballyhoo's Norman Hume Anthony, Manhattan is a 16-page sheet with a bright wrapper instead of a cover. Striking feature of the first issue was a caricature of hog-jowled Mayor John Patrick O'Brien, modeled in clay by Alan Foster (see p. 16). Pages are devoted to digests of what Manhattan newspaper colyumists, theatre and film reviewers have written during the week. There is a detailed chart of theatres, restaurants, speakeasies, etc. indicating average prices of seats, food, drinks. Also there is a series of faithful sketches of speakeasy interiors. First two subjects: Editor Anthony's favorites--Barney's and Frank & Jack's.

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