Burne Hogarth.

Originally published in 1972, by Watson Guptill, and published over here in the UK in 1974 by Pan Books, which was when my dad bought me it, the fully illustrated Tarzan of the Apes marked Burne Hogarth's return to the character after an abscence of over twenty years.  I didn't know that at the time, of course.  I didn't really know who Burne Hogarth was, then.  All I knew was that this was one of the most beautiful books my eagre, hungry nine-year-old eyes had ever seen.  Inspired by a recent Hal Foster post on me old bloggy chum Thomas' always fascinating The Pictorial Arts, I took the book down from it's dusty old hiding place on my shelf and read it through for the first time in nearly thirty years.  And it is still one of the most beautiful books I have ever seen.  Obviously, I'm not going to post the whole thing, on account of A: it being far too long, and B: even I know when taking the piss is taking the piss, but here's a whole bunch of sample pages from this lovely book.  From me, to you.  Because I love you.  But not as much as I love Burne Hogarth.