THE WEIRD SHIT YOU FIND

THE ANGRY RED PLANET (1959): a sci-fi film that would unexpectedly be tied in to my library of books on human sexuality.

While continuing my ongoing mission to purge the tiny and over-crowded studio that I live in of sometimes superfluous stuff I've accumulated over the thirteen years that I've lived here, some of which I dragged from previous places I've resided in since 1990, I unearthed this little red tome that I had completely forgotten about.

I have no recollection of where I got it from (most likely during my "lost" years) but I will always read a sex book penned by a woman because they obviously possess the equipment that I like to fiddle about with and make feel good, so who better to write a book on the subject? The thing that makes this particular little tome worth owning to a geek like me is that it was penned in 1982 by one Naura Hayden, formerly known as "Nora," who was the female lead in Ib Melchior's pre-psychedelic-yet-psychedelic-anyway THE ANGRY RED PLANET (1959), a film fondly remembered for a number of reasons, but most notably for its fucking bizarre bat/rat/spider/crab alien, a textbook example of how to do an awesome special effect with a budget that normally wouldn't buy you a sandwich at the Carnegie Deli.

Seriously, that fucking thing is downright Lovecraftian!

Hayden played Dr. Iris "Irish" Ryan, a cute redheaded scientist of the type found in sci-fi flicks from the pre-liberation age, and god, how I loved those gals. Smarter than all of the men who surrounded them, yet constantly having to prove their worth until the men got over themselves and realized that egghead chicks have it goin' on, especially when sussing out how to deal with that particular movie's non-human menace (for the quintessential example of this archetype, look no further than Dr. Patricia "Pat" Medford in 1954's classic THEM!, the Ground Zero of the 1950's giant critter wave, as played so unforgettably by Joan Weldon). Nonetheless, Dr. Ryan was mostly along on the trip to Mars so there could be a female to scream when the assorted threats showed up,

but I liked her better when she was seen as a competent member of the expedition (see below).

But I digress.

So the sex manual in question is not only of interest because it was written by a Fifties space-heroine, it's also a very human examination of everyday lovemaking and keeping your lady happy with foreplay, something that several of my ex-girlfriends have said lacked in previous relationships (do NOT get me started on the excellence and importance of foreplay or we'll be here all day). It's definitely geared mostly toward guys who have no clue as to what to do, so it's a worthwhile volume that is unfortunately most likely doomed to remain in obscurity.

The book's back cover.

While I've gotten rid of many other oddball items during this purge (which has been ongoing in earnest since early March), but this forgotten gem stays.