Fig. 1: Issue 22 cover.

Welcome
to the...

Castle of Frankenstein!

      While reading Stephen King’s Danse Macabre for inspiration for this project, I ecstatically stumbled upon multiple mentions of Castle of Frankenstein (CoF). King compliments CoF for its “fairly sophisticated reviewing[,]” saying that it was “the best of the ‘monster mags’ and one that died much too soon” (142). There are traces of CoF throughout the internet – in fan blogs and on collector websites – but recognition from one of horror’s most recognized authors is perhaps the most monumental evidence I found when trying to gauge CoF's legacy. It truly speaks to the imprint CoF made on the world of horror and on horror fans.

For these reasons, this project will focus primarily on CoF's contribution to, and place in, the world of horror. 
Although CoF also paid significant attention to science fiction and fantasy, as well as the comic book industry, 
CoF is most interesting to me as a publication which promoted passionately the allure and adoration of horror.

The University of Victoria’s collection begins with issue 6, in 1964. It also contains issues 8, 9, 20, 21, 
22, 23, 24, and 25. Issue 25 was Castle of Frankenstein’s last in 1975.
These particular issues are this page's guide in witnessing how Castle of Frankenstein represented horror culture 
in the 1960s and 1970s, adapted as a film genre magazine to stay alive alongside a changing film  
industry, and inevitably found its place in horror's history.

Fig. 8: Promotional advertisement for French horror
              magazine Midi-Minuit Fantastique.

Fig. 9: The CoFanaddicts Gallery,
      featuring Vincent Van Ghool,
             the Gallery Ghoul.

Fig. 10: A feature within CoF which suggested other publications which may be of interest to CoF readers.

      Castle of Frankenstein did not give space to outside advertisements—a common characteristic of fanzines (Wertham 80). As advertising is a significant way for publications to earn profit, it’s unclear where the majority of the funds to produce the magazine came from. It is fair to assume that some profit came from subscriptions and the purchasing of back issues, but much of it likely came from the production team and Beck. In his interview with Flickhead, Stewart complained of CoF's lack of profit in relation to his struggles to assemble content:

I was expected to put together a magazine, without spending anything, by assembling existing material. Naturally, this made it difficult to solicit from writers and artists, since I couldn’t guarantee anyone what or when they might be paid, or even if they would be paid. This explains why the magazine used photo covers during the time I was editor—no one had to be paid.

      However, in CoF there were advertisements for products that went through Castle Publishing. Fig. 12 and 13 in the gallery below show how CoF sold horror related props and toys, ranging from 75¢ to $4.98, as well as memorabilia and collectibles, ranging from $3.50 to $7.00. This money went directly to Gothic Castle, as the mailing information shows us, although it’s unclear if the money was further distributed to whoever supplied the products. Regardless, it’s fair to assume that CoF made some money off this business venture. These ads appear, in some shape or form, in each issue (at least those in UVic's Special Collections).

      Readers of CoF could also purchase 8mm films (See Fig. 11 below). The purchasing of the films again went through Gothic Castle, marked at $5.95 each, although it's safe to assume Gothic Castle was not producing 8mm films—they were likely brought in from outside sources, and it's unknown if this procured any profit for CoF. CoF's interest in selling 8mm films could arguably have been not only out of recognition of their readers who are ardent film buffs and collectors, but their recognition of the fact that more and more people were watching films in their homes. It's a recognition of how, to stay alive and relevant, CoF sought to appeal to all modes of film viewing.

      CoF also posted advertisements for collectables through their CoFanaddicts Gallery. This was a free service where fans—no professionals—could write to CoF with wanted and sale ads. Such ads would be accompanied by the reader’s mailing address so that other readers could seek them out directly. The service also allowed readers with similar interests to communicate with each other simply for correspondence purposes as well. The CoFanaddicts Gallery was a monumental factor in maintaining CoF's sense of community.

      Before it was the CoFanaddicts Gallery, however, this section featured at the end of the section for the letters to the editor, and shared space with advertisements and acknowledgements of other fanzines and magazines. Eventually, this idea of suggesting to readers other publications which may align with their interests (and feature content similar to that of CoF's) would grow to be its own feature as well (See Fig. 10). The acknowledgment of other fanzines is another element which positions CoF as a fanzine. Wertham explains that it was common for “fanzines [to] review other fanzines” as “fanzines have a quality which makes them a special phenomenon in our communication setup” (111, 112). Fanzines “are critical but not destructive. Instead of belittling one another they try to further each other’s interest. They often give what they call a ‘plug’ to other fanzines … [Overall,] they represent an attitude which is healthy and decent” (Wertham 112).

      What's important to note about the aforementioned content is CoF's commitment to focusing on horror-related items. Their advertising content was focused on their reader being a fan of a particular thing—in this case, horror. It did not assume or cater to a reader's gender, age, or other identifiers. The content, no matter the medium, was targeted towards fans of horror. This will be touched on again in the Audience section.

Fig. 20: Description of the "Gothic Castle" dungeon.

Fig. 21: Igor Hyde... before the spelling of his name was corrected in the next issue to Ygor.

Fig. 22: Ygor Hyde

Fig. 23: Vincent Van Ghool
welcoming readers to the
  CoFanaddicts Gallery.

      Outside of marketing, another way that CoF engaged with their readership is through the creation of a "Gothic Castle"—or “Castle of Frankenstein”. Within its pages, CoF built its own narrative that would interact with the reader. The characters they invented within said narrative helped maintain CoF alongside the editors, like employees. While also being an example of humour this narrative is, most importantly, read as a vision of horror. For example, in Fig. 20, which is taken from the explanation given for the invention of the TV Movieguide in issue 6, the editors indicate that they are working in the dungeon of the Gothic Castle; growing the horror theme, they also reference a torture chamber and use language such as “screaming” and “dazed sleep-drugged vision”.

      Vincent van Ghool (Fig. 23), the ghoul who presided over CoF’s CoFanaddicts Gallery, is one of CoF's reoccurring characters. Although the CoFanaddicts Gallery's first appears—as per UVic's holdings—is in issue 9, Vincent does not appear in UVic's issues of CoF until issue 20. However, there is evidence of him in an earlier issue: issue 15—interestingly, Beck's signature is attributed to the sketch of Vincent. There is an even earlier sighting of him in issue 3, although he does not yet seemingly have a name. It would clearly take a while for the character of Vincent van Ghool to form. Eventually though, as a resident of the Castle of Frankenstein, Vincent could also be found in the mausoleum or interacting with other characters, such as Ygor. The two would supposedly go on adventures, have secret meetings, and host parties. Ygor appears randomly throughout CoF, but there were two examples (as seen in Fig. 21 and 22) where he came before the table of contents to welcome readers, indicating that he is their host on their journey through the 'castle' (or contents of each issue); he is also the keeper of the Gothic Castle. This journey further paints CoF as an interactive, almost ‘choose-your-own-adventure' style publication, which helps create and maintain a relationship between CoF and their readers. In addition to interacting with readers, Ygor also interacts with the editors. As illustrated in Fig, 23, he shames the editors for spelling his name wrong. Ygor acknowledges that the magazine is sometimes victim to bad editing and typos. 

                                                                                                                Note: Links to some digital images of CoF issues which
                                                                                                                are not in UVic's Special Collections can be found at the
                                                                                                                bottom of this page under Genre.

Fig. 24: What's left of Professor Nolter in The Mutations (1974).

Fig. 25

      Stephen King, as noted at the beginning of this exhibit, labelled Castle of Frankenstein a "monster mag" (142). This designation applied to a few magazines in the twentieth century, such as Famous Monsters of Filmland, The Monster Times, and Fangoria—a magazine which began its publication in 1979 and continues to the present day. Although there seemingly exists no official definition of a "monster mag", these magazines are characteristically focused on the idea of the "monster," which can take many forms. For example, a monster may be the blood-sucking vampire Dracula, the distorted face of Professor Nolter (as seen in Fig. 24) in The Mutations (1974), the members of the cannibalistic family in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or the Pale Man from Guillermo Del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth (2006). These monsters are labelled as such for their appearance, actions, or both. 

      The monster is what gives CoF not only its content, but its allure. As Noel Carroll, in "Why horror?", states:

Monsters … are repelling because they violate standing categories. But for the self-same reason, they are also compelling of our attention. They are attractive, in the sense that they elicit interest, and they are the cause of, for many, irresistible attention, again, just because they violate standing categories. They are curiosities. They can rivet attention and thrill for the self-same reason that they disturb, distress, and disgust. (39)

      This attractiveness is what draws readers to the majority of the subject matter in CoF, and it's something CoF is aware of. In Fig. 25 it is noted how CoF consciously chooses to put the villains on the front cover. Although this remark was made in regards to CoF's Batman issue, time and time again CoF flaunts the villain on their front cover. Examples of this can be seen in the gallery below. This illustrates how CoF believes, or perhaps knows, that there is such attractiveness to the villain that they are able to sell magazines by spotlighting the villain's image. In addition to featuring the villain on the covers of their issues, CoF also designates much of their inside content to highlighting details about villains, monsters, and the "bad guys" of horror films. However paradoxical it is, CoF finds much of its success in their audience's love of villainy or evil.

Fig. 26: Letter from Jerry Tillotson.

Fig. 27

Fig. 28: Letter from Steve and Erwin Vertlieb.

Fig. 29: Letter from Thomas Scofield.

      Bhob Stewart’s Flickhead interview explains the vision he had for the intended audience of CoF:

Jim Warren gave a magazine interview in which he stated flatly that his Famous Monsters of Filmland [CoF’s main competitor] was cleverly calculated to hit a nine- to twelve-year-old market. When I read this I quite consciously began slanting CoF toward a nine- to sixty-five-year-old market on the theory there are more people!

      Stewart’s idea of CoF’s readership being nonspecific is for good reason—he wanted CoF to be accessible to all readers regardless of age. Furthermore, there is the assumption that Stewart (and Beck) didn’t want to limit CoF’s readership to specific genders or economic classes. However, CoF did have limitations which changed their demographic, as Calvin Beck notes when he speaks of Stewart’s contributions to CoF in his Flickhead interview:

Bhob Stewart was ahead of his time in many literary and graphic areas, but his approach tended to be more esoteric than practical. He gravitated toward underground comics and newspapers, and other limited circulation publications that were popular in large cities but not in the middle America hinterlands and boondocks where most of CoF was sold. Our intellectual tastes were therefore hyped up on some occasions, while my commercial sense would evaporate, and we’d see the result in lower sales.

      Although CoF did not purposely limit their audience, the fact that its distribution was more likely to reach areas with smaller, perhaps more rural, populations meant that CoF was limited to a specific readership, which arguably effected which economic classes were reading CoF even if the content within CoF was not purposely imposing these limitations. Overall though, if fans could access CoF, they could engage with it no matter their background.

      What’s important, however, is that CoF was still targeted towards fans of specific genres. And horror, specifically, often breeds a certain type of fan, and within this group of fans, there is a supposed hierarchy. Mark Kermode argues that:

The horror fan … is … not only able but positively compelled to "read" rather than merely "watch" such movies. The novice, however, sees only the dismembered bodies, hears only the screams and groans, reacts only with revulsion or contempt. Being unable to differentiate between the real and the surreal, they consistently misinterpret horror fans’ interaction with texts that mean nothing to them. (qtd. in Hills 74)

   Mark Voger, in his book Monster Mash: The Creepy Kooky Monster Craze in America, 1957-1972, states that CoF “played to an aficionado sensibility” (138). This style often catered to the "intellectual" film buff—those fans who consider themselves "true" horror fans—as illustrated above by Kermode. Evidence of this is seen in Fig. 28 in a letter from Steve and Erwin Verlieb. They compliment CoF for knowing the difference between good and bad horror productions, and for representing the belief that true horror is art. They even go as far to say that CoF is their “bible.” Therefore, Stewart wasn’t necessarily wrong to appeal to the intellectual sides of their readers with his “intellectual tastes,” despite the fact that Beck claimed it resulted in lower sales. Bhob Stewart mentioned in his interview with Flickhead that CoF was seen as an inspiration because of its serious and knowledgeable tone:

I have occasionally met young filmmakers, artists and writers who grew up on CoF. Apparently, as well as I can ascertain, the zine picked up many first-time readers with 11. I get a great satisfaction out of hearing how these people were ‘educated’ by CoF when they were in their early teens … These young people who are former CoF readers who are now involved in various creative pursuits make me feel I succeeded in getting this point across.

      Stewart correctly touches on not only the creative value of CoF, but the educational value. This educational value was also noted by reader Jerry Tillotson, as shown in Fig. 26, who explains how CoF had found its way into academic circles. This is, arguably, reflective of how Kendall R. Phillips states: “[by the mid-1960s,] [b]eginning in France and slowly spreading to America, films were increasingly embraced as their own form of literature” (92). If film could be interpreted as literature, it was necessary for literature about film to become commonplace, and perhaps even popularized and mainstream—even literature which presented itself within the pop culture market. Phillips acknowledges that “[p]rior to the 1950s and 1960s, films were largely conceived as low culture, but on both sides of the Atlantic, individuals were beginning to champion the medium of film” (92). Arguably, horror was considered even more "low brow" than other genres, so it was vital to horror's success to have bridges which connected horror to academia and other standards of acceptability. CoF, and its readers, helped build this bridge.

      There is, however, a danger to the hierarchy of horror fans, as Matt Hills notes in The Pleasure of Horror, in response to Mark Kermode: the “discursive problem” with the “Romantic-intensity-turned-to-cool-knowledgeability” origin story of most horror fans “is that while knowledge and ‘literacy’ can be used to distinguish and revalue the adult, ‘tortured’ horror fan—the reader of horror’s niche magazines and participant in fan cultural activities—such discourses cannot logically or readily account for why horror so affected or inspired the proto-fan in the first place” (77). It is hard to account for why horror inspires the “proto-fan”, although a conclusion could be drawn from the earlier conversation about the appeal of the villain. What is important, however, is how CoF fostered an environment where the “proto-fan” could exist beside the 'true' horror fan. CoF primarily provides materials for the film buff—TV Movieguide, in-depth articles with directors and actors, features on specialists in production teams (such as that which is shown in Fig. 27)—but they also present material for the “proto-fan” who is looking for a gateway into the world of horror, such as nine year old Thomas, who wrote to CoF to express his affection for a particular reoccurring feature (Fig. 29). Arguably, even fans who read CoF for the science fiction or fantasy content would be exposed to their horror content as well, or hybrids of the genres such as horror-science fiction, and could therefore be fans in the making, waiting for the right window of opportunity into the world of horror.

      Calvin Beck was not entirely against the romanticism of being a ‘true’ horror fan either. In his Flickhead interview, he argued:

I think that all film categories and genres should be studied. I’d evince a predilection for the b’s and z’s because this is where one finds the filmmaking DNA code. Because of their limited capital, the b’s and z’s involve a certain self-discipline and structure that is, more often than not, sincere and direct. I feel that an interesting and successful a-film may only be a b-film on a bigger budget.

Note: The "b's" and "z's" Beck speaks of are
B-Films and Z-Films—films which are low-budget;
allegedly, the lower you go down the alphabet,
the "lower" the quality of film. 

      The attitude which believes in the value of b- and z-films mirrors Stephen King’s romantic notion of genuine horror fans:

If you’re a genuine horror fan, you develop the same sort of sophistication that a follower of the ballet develops; you get a feeling for the depth and texture of the genre. Your ear develops with your eye, and the sound of quality always comes through to the keen ear. There is fine Waterford crystal, which rings delicately when struck, no matter how thick and chunky it may look; and then there are the Flintstone jelly glasses. You can drink your Dom Perignon out of either one, but friends, there is a difference. (142)

Let's do the time warp

Curious about what an avid film buff, horror fanatic, and/or reader of CoF would actually look like?
Travel back to the 1960s and find out!

In its early days, Castle of Frankenstein would post photos of their readers alongside their letters.
Examples from issue 2 can be seen here, here, and here.

Fig. 30: Editorial written by Calvin T. Beck. Issue 20.

Distribution and readership

      As noted above on numerous occasions, CoF often had problems with distribution. This problem was also noted in other sources. For example, Cotter's study complains that “the most maddening thing about CoF[,] even if you were an ardent fan, [was that] you never knew when the next issue was coming out[,] [which] was mostly due to the caprices and finances of its editor, Calvin T. Beck” (59). Voger expresses a similar sentiment: “A downside [of CoF] was [their] erratic publishing schedule” (138).

      Aside from the financial problems CoF frequently faced, Beck offered further insight, in his interview with Flickhead, into CoF’s irregular releases:

Magazine publishing is, by its very nature, a commercial, not artistic, business. Although I’ve some insight in marketing, I’ve never been a very commercial type of person. And it’s terribly difficult trying to wear two hats at one time without getting a little schizoid — that is, trying to be in business and creative simultaneously … One’s creative well being is strained trying to maintain regular schedules which conform to the establishment’s theory of productivity. This may explain why most minor magazines are infinitely superior and why most mass market mags are [s***] … In a nutshell, good wine takes time. CoF’s twenty-seven editions—including Journal of Frankenstein and the 1967 Fearbook—include some disappointing editions. But as a whole, CoF couldn’t have made a lasting impression if it had taken a purely commercial route. In the long run, it established certain principles that may have helped inspire others to do likewise or better.

      CoF’s distribution problems were also noted in issues of the magazine. In issue 20, CoF addresses the problem head-on in their editorial (see Fig. 30):

Last issue we revealed some of the problems our publications had for a long time getting proper distribution in various areas around the country. Quite a large number of you reacted magnificently, it seems, and CoF is now being seen to better advantage. And we’re all quite ecstatic over this beautiful display of loyalty. 

      The conclusion one can draw from this is that CoF predominately relied on its readership—the people who shared their value of creative endeavor over mass marketability—to extend its distribution rather than funding from more established publishers and distributors. Beck also acknowledges in the excerpt that better distribution is not just for the sake of CoF reaching more people, but about readers having access to publications they want. Beck acknowledges a very important problem: limited access, or perhaps zero access, to certain publications or other forms of media is a form of censorship. As a member of the community of journalism, CoF is against such ideas and the dangers they impose, and they believe that their community of readers are similarly against censorship. What’s also important is that they explicitly invited their readers to “share” in the victory of battle should they succeed, and are therefore making their relationship with their readers more personal. They have extended an invitation of comradery in battle and have similarly expressed a division of the treasure should they succeed.

                Fig. 31: Letter from Jeff Day.

Fig. 32: Letter from Ron Peterson.

      CoF's relationship with, and accountability to, its readers meant that they did have to please their audience, albeit while remaining true to their own vision of CoF. CoF’s relationship with their readers, beyond the conversations mentioned above, also spawned a creative collaboration which helped determine layout design.

      As mentioned above, covers were an important part of CoF, and CoF had made a commitment to put villains on their covers. However, there were other aspects of the cover art that readers didn’t always agree with. For example, in Fig. 31, reader Jeff Day indicates how he favours artwork—paintings and illustrations, predominately—over photographs on the cover (for examples of covers with illustrations, see the below gallery). He also notes that he enjoys the covers when there is a fullness or crowdedness to them. This idea of crowdedness is contrasted by Ron Peterson’s letter, in Fig. 32, who states that he does not find the covers of CoF very artistic—the filmstrip is disruptive and the lettering of the title is poor and doesn’t draw the eye of onlookers. In his reply to Peterson, Beck says that “[they’ve] really been concerned about [their] layouts for a long time” (4). Beck continues, stating: “They are, perhaps, indicative of our personality: harried, hassled but ‘dedicated.’ It’s possible we’ve been so concerned—maybe too much—over the quality of written rather than visual content, we may have developed a blind spot” (4). However, Beck continues to state that the filmstrip has become a trademark detail of CoF (4). After this acknowledgment of Peterson’s concerns, Beck turns the question of cover layout to all the readers, asking them to write to CoF about “anything [they’d] like altered or
improved inside CoF” (4).