I’m not exempting Asians from penning Asianica either, just so you know, though I’m finding by-and-large that the authors are white men. Both these characters will invariably appear in an Asianica narrative.

A standing jacket element appears to be either an Asian lady in post-coital flush or a dirty Asian soldier with a bullet in his face. China Doll and Dragon Flame, for example, require no situating images, but the real gems are embedded in jacket art like that of Macao and The Judas Spy. Novels bucketed under this rubric can typically be identified by title and book-cover. I am only going to address here the novels I deem “Asianica,” published between 19. It’s in fact what will redeem this series, where the characters are otherwise fist-drawn with the literary equivalent of dried-up Sharpie pens. Getting down to business: Where it concerns pulp fiction, repetition is actually a virtue second only in importance to erection euphemisms, and when it comes to the Nick Carter experience, you can positively hang a hat on the sexual double entendres. While the series was enormously popular (if multiple editions of later books are any indication), today the Nick Carter novels are largely unknown to the general public.

With the exception of one or two authors-most notably Michael Avallone-who went on to pen their own series, the many pens behind Nick Carter go unknown. Trademarked by Conde Nast, the titlular hero also doubles as the pseudonym used by a post-Vietnam span of Ian Fleming-wannabes-who sadly never received byline credit. The Nick Carter-Killmaster espionage thrillers were published at the rate of baseball cards (1964-1990), so it’s easy to forgive a little repetition.

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