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A One-Man Pulp Fiction Factory Keeps His Motors Running in Brazil A Human Pulp-Fiction Factory Becomes a Cult Hero
(about 5 hours later)
JARDINÓPOLIS, Brazil — Some writers publish just one book in their lifetime. Others somehow churn out dozens in prolific feats of creativity. JARDINÓPOLIS, Brazil — SOME writers publish just one book in their lifetime. Others somehow churn out dozens in prolific feats of creativity.
Then there is R. F. Lucchetti, Brazil’s eminence of pulp fiction, who boasts of publishing no fewer than 1,547 books over a long career, employing an array of pseudonyms including Vincent Lugosi, Brian Stockler and Isadora Highsmith. Then there is R. F. Lucchetti, Brazil’s eminence of pulp fiction, who boasts of publishing no fewer than 1,547 books over a long career, employing an array of pseudonyms, including Vincent Lugosi, Brian Stockler and Isadora Highsmith.
Mr. Lucchetti, who lives in a labyrinthine house with more than a dozen dimly lit rooms on the central plaza of Jardinópolis, a small city near São Paulo, has written everything from horror tales to crime fiction and steamy erotica, as reflected in some of the titles: “Vampires Don’t Have Sex,” “Weekend With Death” and “Last Night of Love.”Mr. Lucchetti, who lives in a labyrinthine house with more than a dozen dimly lit rooms on the central plaza of Jardinópolis, a small city near São Paulo, has written everything from horror tales to crime fiction and steamy erotica, as reflected in some of the titles: “Vampires Don’t Have Sex,” “Weekend With Death” and “Last Night of Love.”
“I hated westerns,” Mr. Lucchetti, 84, said in an interview this month, referring to the stories of the American frontier. “I only ended up writing 60 of them,” he said, adding that he still works on his typewriter every day.“I hated westerns,” Mr. Lucchetti, 84, said in an interview this month, referring to the stories of the American frontier. “I only ended up writing 60 of them,” he said, adding that he still works on his typewriter every day.
Largely ignored by Brazil’s literary establishment, Mr. Lucchetti has toiled in obscurity since the 1950s. But younger Brazilian publishers, filmmakers and graphic novelists are now discovering him, republishing his books or drawing on them as inspiration for their own creations.Largely ignored by Brazil’s literary establishment, Mr. Lucchetti has toiled in obscurity since the 1950s. But younger Brazilian publishers, filmmakers and graphic novelists are now discovering him, republishing his books or drawing on them as inspiration for their own creations.
“Lucchetti has been unjustly marginalized,” said Ivan Cardoso, a director of low-budget horror films, whose horror spoof “Werewolf in Amazonia” was co-written by Mr. Lucchetti. “He’s a unique figure within Brazilian culture,” said Mr. Cardoso, who compares Mr. Lucchetti to H. P. Lovecraft, the American author of horror fiction. “Lucchetti has been unjustly marginalized,” said Ivan Cardoso, a director of low-budget horror films, whose spoof “Werewolf in Amazonia” was co-written by Mr. Lucchetti. “He’s a unique figure within Brazilian culture,” said Mr. Cardoso, who compares Mr. Lucchetti to H. P. Lovecraft, the American author of horror fiction.
The new renown is a little jarring for Mr. Lucchetti, a gaunt, self-described introvert who bears a physical resemblance to the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges. In a rambling conversation at his home over glasses of Coca-Cola, Mr. Lucchetti readily acknowledged that he might seem eccentric in Jardinópolis, an agricultural town surrounded by sugar cane fields.The new renown is a little jarring for Mr. Lucchetti, a gaunt, self-described introvert who bears a physical resemblance to the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges. In a rambling conversation at his home over glasses of Coca-Cola, Mr. Lucchetti readily acknowledged that he might seem eccentric in Jardinópolis, an agricultural town surrounded by sugar cane fields.
“I detest where I live,” he said, emphasizing that he also abhorred sunlight and the chitchat of provincial life. “I would live entirely at night if I could pull it off,” he said. “My neighbors are my enemies.” “I detest where I live,” he said, emphasizing that he also abhorrs sunlight and the chitchat of provincial life. “I would live entirely at night if I could pull it off,” he said. “My neighbors are my enemies.”
Even though he sets many of his books in places like Los Angeles, New York or London, Mr. Lucchetti has never traveled outside of Brazil. Born Rubens Francisco Lucchetti to descendants of Italian immigrants who settled in the nearby town of Santa Rita do Passa Quatro, he counts São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro as the only major cities he knows. Even though he sets many of his books in places like Los Angeles, New York or London, Mr. Lucchetti has never traveled outside Brazil. Born Rubens Francisco Lucchetti to descendants of Italian immigrants who settled in the nearby town of Santa Rita do Passa Quatro, he counts São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro as the only major cities he knows.
When he was growing up, he said, he was fascinated by Edgar Allan Poe’s tales of the macabre. Although Mr. Lucchetti never completed high school, by the time he was a teenager he began publishing short stories, poems and book reviews in local newspapers.When he was growing up, he said, he was fascinated by Edgar Allan Poe’s tales of the macabre. Although Mr. Lucchetti never completed high school, by the time he was a teenager he began publishing short stories, poems and book reviews in local newspapers.
He soon figured out that he could feign some authority about faraway lands by peppering his stories with details he glimpsed in American B movies, like the name of a street, a brand of automobile or a rendezvous point. He singled out the films of Evelyn Ankers, the Hollywood actress known as “the screamer” for her roles in horror films in the 1940s, as especially inspiring.He soon figured out that he could feign some authority about faraway lands by peppering his stories with details he glimpsed in American B movies, like the name of a street, a brand of automobile or a rendezvous point. He singled out the films of Evelyn Ankers, the Hollywood actress known as “the screamer” for her roles in horror films in the 1940s, as especially inspiring.
After an auto-parts store he owned ran into financial trouble in the 1960s, Mr. Lucchetti delved full time into the pulps, whose name was derived from the cheap paper made from wood pulp on which they were printed. Hitting his stride in the 1970s and ’80s, he invented a broad range of pseudonyms in order to suggest to Brazilians that they were reading translations of books written by foreign authors. AFTER an auto-parts store he owned ran into financial trouble in the 1960s, Mr. Lucchetti delved full time into the pulps, whose name was derived from the cheap paper made from wood pulp on which they were printed. Hitting his stride in the 1970s and ’80s, he invented a broad range of pseudonyms in order to suggest to Brazilians that they were reading translations of books written by foreign authors.
Some, like Mary Shelby, evoke the names of actual writers, like Mary Shelley, the English author of “Frankenstein.” Another one, Vincent Lugosi, alludes to the horror film actors Vincent Price and Bela Lugosi. Then there is Vera Waleska, supposedly a Russian-born writer about the occult who was raised by the Roma, also known as Gypsies; or Theodore Field, an English aristocrat.Some, like Mary Shelby, evoke the names of actual writers, like Mary Shelley, the English author of “Frankenstein.” Another one, Vincent Lugosi, alludes to the horror film actors Vincent Price and Bela Lugosi. Then there is Vera Waleska, supposedly a Russian-born writer about the occult who was raised by the Roma, also known as Gypsies; or Theodore Field, an English aristocrat.
Mr. Lucchetti, raised as a Baptist but now defining his religion as Spiritualism, a belief emphasizing reincarnation and communication with the spirits of the dead, said that he would endow his pseudonyms with quirky personality traits and histories, then burrow into these parallel lives while tapping out his stories. Mr. Lucchetti said that he would endow his pseudonyms with quirky personality traits and histories, then burrow into these parallel lives while tapping out his stories.
The financial rewards were meager, typically $70 for a 120-page book. While Mr. Lucchetti expresses pride over many of his books, he acknowledges producing some duds, like “Decadence and Orgy in the Third Reich,” written under the pseudonym Frank Luke.The financial rewards were meager, typically $70 for a 120-page book. While Mr. Lucchetti expresses pride over many of his books, he acknowledges producing some duds, like “Decadence and Orgy in the Third Reich,” written under the pseudonym Frank Luke.
Mr. Lucchetti said that he managed to complete some books in just three days. “I always tried to stick to a routine, giving myself time to sleep and watch some television every evening,” he said.Mr. Lucchetti said that he managed to complete some books in just three days. “I always tried to stick to a routine, giving myself time to sleep and watch some television every evening,” he said.
Jerusa Pires Ferreira, a scholar in São Paulo who studies Mr. Lucchetti’s literary output, which also includes screenplays for the films of José Mojica Marins, the Brazilian B-movie auteur, said that the author’s count of more than 1,500 books was accurate. But she also pointed out that some of his books were relatively simple adaptations of other tales or fusions of stories by other authors into one book. Jerusa Pires Ferreira, a scholar in São Paulo who studies Mr. Lucchetti’s literary output, which also includes screenplays for the films of José Mojica Marins, the Brazilian B-movie auteur, said that the author’s count of more than 1,500 books was accurate. But she pointed out that some of his books were relatively simple adaptations of other tales or fusions of stories by other authors into one book.
“Lucchetti inhabits phenomenally complex realms of creativity,” said Ms. Pires Ferreira, a professor of literature and semiotics at Pontifical Catholic University. She cited as one example Mr. Lucchetti’s version of "The Great Book of Saint Cyprian,” dealing with the occult, which unfolds in a São Paulo veiled by pollution. “Lucchetti inhabits phenomenally complex realms of creativity,” said Ms. Pires Ferreira, a professor of literature and semiotics at Pontifical Catholic University. She cited as one example Mr. Lucchetti’s version of “The Great Book of Saint Cyprian,” dealing with the occult, which unfolds in a São Paulo veiled by pollution.
Curiously, Mr. Lucchetti is not the only such prolific writer in Brazil. Ryoki Inoue, a pipe-smoking former medical doctor who also lives in São Paulo State, has gained fame for publishing more than 1,000 books, many of them westerns written under pseudonyms like Tex Taylor.Curiously, Mr. Lucchetti is not the only such prolific writer in Brazil. Ryoki Inoue, a pipe-smoking former medical doctor who also lives in São Paulo State, has gained fame for publishing more than 1,000 books, many of them westerns written under pseudonyms like Tex Taylor.
Mr. Lucchetti acknowledged that some could cast doubt on his prodigious output, but he explained that such writing was sometimes like working on an assembly line, where volume is prized above other goals. He said he had reduced his own workload considerably since the 1990s, partly because of shifts in Brazil’s publishing industry, as pulp fiction sold on the newsstands has gone the way of gramophones, reel-to-reel tape recorders and small-town movie theaters. MR. LUCCHETTI acknowledged that some could cast doubt on his prodigious output, but he explained that such writing was sometimes like working on an assembly line, where volume is prized above other goals. He said he had reduced his own workload considerably since the 1990s, partly because of shifts in Brazil’s publishing industry, as pulp fiction sold on the newsstands has gone the way of gramophones, reel-to-reel tape recorders and small-town movie theaters.
“Pulp fiction is essentially kind of dead,” he said.“Pulp fiction is essentially kind of dead,” he said.
Still, Mr. Lucchetti keeps on writing. He maintains a pile of unpublished manuscripts in the home he shares with his son, Marco Aurélio. More than a hundred clocks collected by his late wife, Tereza, hang on the walls of the mazelike dwelling. Cats roam the house, much of which is occupied by Mr. Lucchetti’s vast personal library.Still, Mr. Lucchetti keeps on writing. He maintains a pile of unpublished manuscripts in the home he shares with his son, Marco Aurélio. More than a hundred clocks collected by his late wife, Tereza, hang on the walls of the mazelike dwelling. Cats roam the house, much of which is occupied by Mr. Lucchetti’s vast personal library.
Mr. Lucchetti said he was pleased that a Brazilian publisher is preparing to release new editions of 15 of his books, starting with “Masks of Dread,” a murder mystery set in 1970s Los Angeles. He smiled ear to ear when describing plans for finally making films based on long-ignored screenplays.Mr. Lucchetti said he was pleased that a Brazilian publisher is preparing to release new editions of 15 of his books, starting with “Masks of Dread,” a murder mystery set in 1970s Los Angeles. He smiled ear to ear when describing plans for finally making films based on long-ignored screenplays.
“Writing for me is a physical necessity,” Mr. Lucchetti said, attributing his robust health to his avoidance of cigarettes and alcohol. “I never had the patience for physical exercise of any kind.”“Writing for me is a physical necessity,” Mr. Lucchetti said, attributing his robust health to his avoidance of cigarettes and alcohol. “I never had the patience for physical exercise of any kind.”
Guiding a visitor into his office, he summed up his views on existence by saying, “A life passes in the space of a breath.” Then he smiled again, pointing to a plastic skeleton on the wall, under which hung a small frame containing two sentences: “Why so much ambition? See what awaits us.” He was raised as a Baptist but now defines his religion as Spiritualism, a belief emphasizing reincarnation and communication with the spirits of the dead. Guiding a visitor into his office, he summed up his views on existence by saying, “A life passes in the space of a breath.” Then he smiled again, pointing to a plastic skeleton on the wall, under which hung a small frame containing two sentences: “Why so much ambition? See what awaits us.”