Gallery 7: Artwork by an Anonymous Illustrator

Looking very much like a Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew mystery from my childhood here in the United States, the late 1950s/early 1960s edition of the third book in the schoolboy trilogy of George Mills is likely the most colouristically most eye-catching and appealing of all his books, as far as children might be concerned. Perhaps even to grown-ups as well, being the ones who presumably allowed or disallowed the purchase.

Here we have a text, printed in Czechoslovakia by Spring Books, London, in which, as we know by now, there is no copyright date. There is also no illustrator named, and for the first time among the books of Mills, there is not even a signature or set of initials woven into any of the works of art.

Following a format similar to all of his post-WWII books, the book has a full colour dust jacket and frontispiece, as well as four black and white plates inside.

The execution of the painting is energetic and makes use of a rainbow of saturated hues to create the cover illustration. It's attractive, and quite appealing in a nostalgic way that I'm not sure it would have evoked at the time it was created.


The frontispiece is a knock-off (or should I more politely say, an "appropriation") of John Harris's frontispiece from the 1939 first edition. Harris's was actually too delicate, unwisely using colours that were too high-key and pastel-y, to give a real feel of that doggedly gritty race at a boys' school. It was not the particular artwork in that edition he should have focused on stealing.

This anonymous paean to that less than noteworthy painting certainly saturates the colours more, and our anonymous artist handles the paint more expressively. However, one can almost see within the image the small, desktop wooden mannequin used by artists to pose human figures at the drawing table in lieu of an actual model. Those clunky wooden figures can be arranged in some awkward poses that the human form won't comfortably do, and we see two of those in this awkward painting.

You can see a comparison of the 1939 watercolour with an indistinctg and ineffective vignette edge and the 1950s-ish gouache duplicate with crisply masked edges. [Click any image to enlarge it in a new window.]


The pen and ink drawings on the inside plates [below] are nothing to write home about to say the least. They are 'children's-book-illustration-mediocre,' which is a step or two down from 'grown-up-book-illustration-mediocre'—clearly the weakest works of art in any of Mills's texts, first editions or reprints.



"'All right, it's only me'" [Page 55]



"'What on earth are you doing, Fleming?'" [Page 99]



"His diary was not there!" [Page 165]



"Fleming Minor rushed in" [Page 215]


That last plate contains an image of a soaking wet boy, Fleming Minor, who is running—and a mirror image theft (uh... "appropriation") of the embellishment John Harris added to the Table of Contents page in the first edition of Minor and Major. The figure is completed by the 1930s-style uniform he is wearing, exactly like the one in the 1939 version. (To see Harris's original figure, click HERE.)

One can almost see, by the relentless downgrading of the quality of the illustrations, the esteem in which the writing of Mills was held. From beginning with the legendary cross-genre illustrator C. E. Brock [his cover for Mills's 1933 novel, Meredith and Co., is seen below, left], Mills ended up with illustrators that were just average—in the field of children's literature—and below average overall.

Of course, fine children's book illustration was changing at that time, and I can't see the work of Ronald Searle, for instance, working well in one of Mills's books, despite Searle's brilliance. It simply wouldn't be a good "fit."

And with that we close the final gallery of art relating to the literary works of George Mills—that is, unless a copy of 1939's Saint Thomas of Canterbury goes on sale somewhere in the world, or I can get access to some scans or photocopies of the 57 page text from one of the few libraries still carrying it on their shelves.

That would complete our artistic journey! But until then, this is the last of it.


Mills would have realized, after receiving advance copies of this reprinted edition of Minor and Major, that what he held in his hand then would, indeed have been "the last of it" for him.

One wonders what seeing that dust jacket above, and flipping through these final illustrations, meant to him. From this point in his life, until his death in 1972, Mills lived in Budleigh Salterton with his spinster sisters, Agnes and Violet Mills. He would never publish another book.

Beyond the fact that he was sociable, no one there seems to have known much about him. Not a single person seems to have known that he was a children's book author. No one really remembers George at all.

One wonders why.

Gallery 6: The Artwork of Tom Thursby

King Willow, the second children's novel by George Mills, was originally published in 1938, but a new edition was printed some 20 years later.

That reprinted edition carries no copyright date, nor does the text name the artist. However, we can easily see his signature on the dust jacket illustration and the frontispiece: Tom Thursby.

Thursby's colour work here is simply perfect for the genre and this story. Combining of the use of line with less saturates, unlimned areas of colour creates an interesting sense of focus, and Thursby's subtle palette is spot on for children's literature.

Assuming that the four unsigned black and white plates inside the text are his as well, they fail to live up to the quality his work exhibits in full colour. His line and brushwork, working solely with black ink, is extremely tentative and the images suffer for it. Even in his colour pieces at the fore, the figures tend to be a bit stiff, and the real lack of real confidence with ink makes that stiffness seem even more apparent in the plates within.

Not that it's a brilliant piece, but there is one plate that is an exception: The illustration found on page 167 depicting a boy trailing away from the cricket pitch has some of the more confident brushwork found in his colour work.

The difference, though, may not be colour versus black-and-white, but interior versus exterior imagery. Each interior setting is wound more tightly than a cheap watch, but when his images are free from the confines of architecture, floors, and furniture, they seem far less self-conscious.




"'That shadow, it's moved!'" [Page 67]




"'Speak out, and don't make excuses'" [Page 113]




"He returned to the pavilion, trailing his bat behind him" [Page 167]




"Pongo crept slowly across the carpet" [Page 239]


Thursby will be the last illustrator of any great competence found in the books of George Mills, and there is only one more: The late 1950s/early 1960s reprint of Minor and Major.

We'll take a look at that next time in our seventh and final gallery.

Gallery 5: The Artwork of 'Vernon'

By 1957, the world had entered a Space Age that would lead to, in just a dozen more years, men walking on the surface of the Moon.

George Mills had published his first novel, Meredith and Co. less than 25 years before, but it must have seemed like a century ago in some ways, in the aftermath of a worldwide depression, the Second World War, and Britain's recovery from both under new leadership.

Instead of being alarmed as they once were by the predatory behavior of fascists, politicians worried about creeping communism, espionage, and the threat of nuclear war.

Nothing was the same. And although this change brought with it a new breed of boys' preparatory school books, the surge in the popularity of the genre meant there was still room on the shelves for one more round of the books of Mills.

The illustrative imagery of his books, though, would need some updating, making it more a part of the modern world. 1957's Meredith and Co., published behind the Iron Curtain in Czechoslovakia by Andrew Dakers, Ltd., London, featured modernized haircuts and overall appearance of the students at fictional Leadham House School.

Not only does this edition fail to have a copyright date, it also fails to name the illustrator—or illustrators—completely. The dust jacket and frontispiece contain the exact same image: A full-colour, pthalo-hued setting featuring several primary-colour clad boys being caught out of their dorm rooms at night. It's a low budget composition by an artist signing his name only as "VERNON," very reminiscent in character of the sort of cheap, colour children's book illustrations I became familiar with as a boy in the 1960s.

The frontispiece is merely a cropped version of the poorly-registered four-color-separation illustration on the cover, replete with a disembodied hand holding a flashlight at right. Expense quite obviously was spared in putting together this third edition of the text.

It's perfectly non-descript, but that belies the better quality of the artwork inside. There are four nicley done black and white plates that modernise the artwork beyond what the Brocks and John Harris had done—these aren't crafted to resemble engravings—while still capturing the nostalgic charm of the story. It's easy to see why children would have been captivated by these illustrations. [Click any image to enlarge it in a new window.]



"Percy Oliphant Naylor Gathorne Ogilvie, complete with
a nurse, red hair, and freckles, stood with his mother on
the platform at Victoria Station." [Page 9]



"There was a rending, tearing sound . . . " [Page 57]



" . . . his right forepaw clumsily bandaged, and a first eleven
blazer buttoned round his neck, a large brown bulldog was
staring stolidly at nothing!" [Page 129]



"But Finch, flashing past him and Solway, breasted the
tape first" [Page 219]


The four interior plates are unsigned, and may or may not be the work of 'Vernon.' They are as well considered and pleasant as the painting on the frontispiece is ho-hum, and could be his work.

As George Mills and his pre-WWII literary work entered a new age, it seemed as if the artwork min his books, while not quite what it had been at the peak of his popularity, was in relatively good hands.

Gallery 4: The Artwork of P. White

Similar to the first edition of Meredith and Co.—and unlike Mills sequels, King Willow and Minor and Major—Oxford University Press issued Meredith in 1950 without many interior illustrations. In fact, save the frontispiece, all of the remaining illustrations are found on the dust cover. [Click on any image to enlarge it.]

The jacket and frontispiece are not full colour: It uses a two colour separation (blue and yellow) with black line. The artist isn't renowned. In fact, he is a mid-20th century illustrator in search of a Christian name: P. White.



His wiry and energetic inks, when used to limn people, are somewhat reminiscent of George Cruikshank, making the frontispiece a little gem of a drawing. Unfortunately, it is muddled by the blue and yellow inks of the separation process, which did little for any of the illustrations, interior of exterior.



It is debatable as to whether or not the quality of the illustrator has fallen off from 1939 to 1950, mostly because the work of White here is not shown off in the best light. Certainly, though, we can see that the quality of the overall artistic book and jacket design has fallen off dramatically. Visually, this edition is miles below the level of artwork OUP set when the noted publisher commissioned C. E. Brock to illustrate the first edition of Meredtith.

Gallery 3: The Artwork of John Harris

Welcome to our third gallery art here at Who Is George Mills?

1939 brought the third book of George Mills into existence, Minor and Major, published in London by Geo. G. Harrap and Co., Ltd. It was published in the same size and in the same format as Mills's preceding book, King Willow, published by Harrap in 1938: Four full-page black line illustrations, a full-colour frontispiece, and various embellishments throughout the cover and first few pages. The format, down the the hand-lettered titles, is identical to Willow. [Click any illustration to enlarge it.]

While not strictly a sequel, some of the boys from King Willow do, in fact, appear in Minor and Major, albeit briefly.

This time around, however, the illustrator is not one of the Brocks, C. E. or H. M., but John Harris. Trying to find background information on a "John Harris" rivals what it once had been like looking for George Mills, so nothing is known of his background.


His watercolour work pales—quite literally—next to the colourful paintings of the Brocks. But watercolour is not the best Harris has to offer.





Harris's pen and ink work is of a similar character as that of H. M. Brock, at least in so far as his black line drawings have some of the flavor of an engraving.Still, Harris's talented hand is uneven. While each of the full page illustrations requires different aesthetic attributes in describing various scenes in the story, I might have surmised that two, or ever three, different draughtsmen had executed the four full-page illustrations.

Harris is more than competent, but following the Brock brothers, his work appears of lesser quality by comparison. They would be a tough act to follow, even for an above average chap like Harris.


"All right, it's only me" (Page 61)



"The headmaster threw open the door" (Page 109)



"All right, just you jolly well wait and see, Sandy" (Page 139)



"Competitors for the 440 come her at once" (Page 211)


Check in next time, when we'll take a look at Oxford University Press's 1950 reprinting of Meredith and Co. See you then!

Gallery 2: The Work of Henry Matthew Brock

Our second gallery will, of course, focus on the artist responsible for the various works featured in the second novel by George Mills.

King Willow, the sequel to 1933's Meredith and Co., was published in London in 1938 by Geo. G. Harrap and Co., Ltd.

King Willow was illustrated by the talented Henry Matthew Brock, younger brother of C. E. Brock.



This first edition of King Willow is not only complete with a full colour frontispiece and four black line interior plates, but Brock was commissioned to embellish the text, from the cloth-bound boards of its exterior to small illustrations designed around the text of the tables of contents and illustrations [click to enlarge any image].



Brock's powerful and confident line brings a real clarity to certain of the interior illustrations that belies the whimsical quality of many others. His quality of line takes on the emotion of each illustration in a way that one can almost feel his hand interpreting the scenario found in the text as he drew it. Take for example, the contrast between the idyllic napper resting above the words "Chapter I," and the stern, authoritarian feel that is almost palpable in "Go down to my study, and wait for me."



"Go down to my study, and wait for me" (Page 99)

H. M. Brock may be the younger sibling of a noted older brother, but he clearly does not play second fiddle here. Of C. E. Brock, Wikipedia states: "He and his brothers maintained a Cambridge studio filled with various curios, antiques, furniture, and a costume collection. Using these, family members would model for each other."


"Murray picked up the dressing-gown and searched it" (Page 66)



"Puffing and panting and glaring at each other" (Page 131)



"Uggles occupied a good deal of the space" (Page 191)


The third book of George Mills—Minor and Major—will be the subject of the exhibition of our third gallery of artwork. Please don't miss the opening reception. Perhaps I'll serve wine and cheese…

Gallery 1: The Work of Charles Edmund Brock

As we continue to try to tie up loose ends here at Who Is George Mills?, it seems a good idea to open an art gallery of sorts related to the writing of George Mills. Over the next few days, we'll be uploading all of art found in Mills's boys' preparatory stories and making it searchable on-line.

Today we're starting with his classic: The first edition of Meredith and Co.: The Story of a Modern Preparatory School, published in 1933 by Oxford University Press, and illustrated by the legendary Charles Edmund Brock.

C. E. Brock, born in 1870, was 63 years of age and at the height of his fame when he was commissioned to do the watercolours for George's first book. That would provide one a great indication of the esteem in which Mills's manuscript was held at OUP at the time.

Besides the cover above [click any image to enlarge it], Brock also did a vertical watercolour of the the boys creeping out of the school at night, as well as a gorgeous frontispiece. You can see these two artworks to the right and below.



Next time, we'll advance to the 1950 edition of Meredith and Co. We'll see you then…