Rapture Alley is a fascinating piece of writing. The plot is not terribly complicated or even original, but the writing is too good to pass up. It contains themes about young actresses coming to Hollywood to make it and ending up begging for bit parts and taking anything that comes their way, no matter how trashy, just hoping for a chance to be noticed and make it somehow. It is also about obsessive, unrequited love. Lora Cassell is the young lady come to the big city to become a star, but until she makes it, she lives with her older sister, who is confined to a wheelchair, and her sister's husband, who she has been having a torrid love affair with, telling him there is no one else for her. A horrible love triangle that can only end in bitterness and guilt and unhappiness. There are other stories in this short piece, including a trip into the drug world of the early fifties as Lora is introduced to the evils of marijuana and then convinced to try harder stuff in her veins by a failed singer who wants to take her down the sewer with him. There's also the story of back alley abortion doctors, unwed mothers, and failed lives so common for young girls in the fifties who get into trouble. Most of all, this story is about the blues, Lori Cassell's blues. Whiskey can't dull the pain of living for her so she she's searching for what can.
I read this one in the Harry Whittington triple feature from Stark House Press, my favorite publisher. Whittington is one of my favorite mid-century paperback writers who wrote a slew of books, including this one, under various pseudonyms. It's a drug novel from 1953 told from a struggling model's perspective. Lora is hitting the bricks every day trying to make it in the modeling racket. She lives with her invalid sister Chris and her brother-in-law Ken. Ken is one of those domineering jerkoffs who's always after Lora whenever Chris is asleep or out of sight. Unfortunately for Lora, and the reader, she is love with Ken. This is a point in the novel that didn't work for me. I really have a hard time believing that Lora, who's sort of hard-boiled and street savvy, would be in love with such an obvious prick like Ken. But there you go. Along the way, Lora starts smoking pot after determining that alcohol doesn't give her the lift she needs. And you know what happens to folks who get hooked on the weed. It's not pretty, it's...oh well, my tender nature prevents me from describing it all here. I'll just tell you that you'll just have to read it yourself to see what I mean. There is a ton of 50s drug lingo in the book. Also a nefarious cast of lowlifes and vultures who circle the whole drug scene. There are a fair number of turns in the plot and the writing is brisk and fast-paced. I liked it, but it was a little too melodramatic for me.
Harry Whittington’s Rapture Alley surprised me with its effortless readability and confident voice. The prose moves with a smooth rhythm, its transitions seamless and pacing brisk — a reminder of how efficient mid-century pulp storytelling could be.
The subject matter — heroin addiction, even during pregnancy — feels startlingly bold for a novel published in the early 1950s. While some of the character work and situations might feel underdeveloped by modern standards, they remain compelling within their historical context. Whittington doesn’t moralize; he lets the story breathe, and that restraint makes the narrative more engaging.
For anyone interested in writing fiction, Rapture Alley offers an instructive look at how to balance momentum and atmosphere. It’s a quick, satisfying read — perfect for a quiet afternoon or a cool evening on the deck.