Anthony Norvell (Pulp History Persona)

The Davinci of Clap-Trap:“Doctor” Anthony Norvell, Astrologer to The Stars, Pioneer Self-Help Guru and his Life of Lies




Pulp History is loaded with fantastic characters, most of them fictional. Straying in for the occasional fantastic treatment are a few real people. Sometimes, as in the case of Buffalo Bill Cody, Houdini and Blackstone, the imaginary stories were commissioned. They were executed by other hands. It was all publicity, all good exaggerated fun, PT Barnum style. On occasion these second hand fictional renderings of the lives of supposedly real people were unauthorized, as was the case with the dime novels featuring Billy the Kid or Jessie James or the Tijuana Bibles illustrating the amorous adventures of Pretty Boy Floyd, Al Capone and John Dillinger. Rare is the person who will attempt to promote themselves as having fantastic abilities primarily through the self-creation of fiction. It’s tough to live a lie. This particular rare pulp phylum has only been occupied by four people: Bernarr MacFadden, MacFadden’s disciple Charles Atlas, L. Ron Hubbard and Anthony Norvell.

They have a lot in common as a group. They are all essentially health nuts, packagers of cures. Three of the four attempted to found their own religions. Three of the four spent their adult lives being called names other than the ones their mothers gave them. MacFadden and Atlas are somewhat extensions of each other. Of the four, Charles Atlas is the only non-quack. Dynamic Tension (or Isometrics) does actually work. That said, Charles Atlas did not use his own methods. Both Atlas and MacFadden have sound ideas, when they stick to subjects that they know something about, It was a desire to become a philosopher of everything, an overall know it all, that led MacFadden astray. This same desire seems to drive both Norvell and Hubbard. Unlike MacFadden, Norvell and Hubbard were willing to modify their original ideas extensively. Hubbard originally sought authority and fame by peddling his Dianetics as a substitute for psychology. When the scientific establishment came down on his creation, Hubbard switched marketing and rebranded it as a religion. Norvell walked the same tightrope with his ideas as Hubbard, however Norvell kept his business largely a one man show.



Which is probably why you have not heard of Anthony Norvell. Norvell is undergoing something of a renaissance on the internet. His writings are now available on dozens of self help sites. The advertising for e-book downloads of his material is quite bombastic. Norvell has his own website and a facebook page—which isn’t too bad for someone who would be 106 years old. (2011) He did leave a lot of material behind, some of it sounding as pithy today as it did when it was written. To give Norvell credit, he fairly much invented the Law of Attraction as well as Prosperity Theology. Sadly, his life was a demonstration that neither ideas work. As we will see, they certainly didn’t work for Norvell. That’s something you won’t read on the self help book hawker’s websites. In truth, Norvell’s current non-obscurity may have more to do with the fact that his works seem to have fallen into the public domain then to their actual quality.



Norvell had essentially the same career that Jeane Dixon later plied. During his day, Norvell was the only astrologer anyone could name. That is, when he was an astrologer-- which he sometimes wasn’t. Norvell changed his stripes a few times over the years. Much of what is currently on the websites of the hucksters hawking Norvell’s wares is derived from publicity material dating from the end of his career. To distill it, Norvell tells his amazing story as follows:

Norvell was born in Holely New York in 1904. After being orphaned at the age of five, he spent several years in an orphanage before being adopted by a farm family. As early as the age of ten, young Anthony demonstrated profound insight and supernatural mental abilities. He eventually left the farm to study literature, psychology and philosophy, first at Columbia University in New York and then at the University of California. He found himself drawn to examining the methods of great men and then began exploring the occult. He would remain a tireless seeker of the truth for the rest of his life, traveling to. India, Egypt, Tibet, Greece, and all over the world, accumulating knowledge that formed the basis of his philosophy.

At the age of 22 (1926) Norvell came to Hollywood where he made the acquaintance of movie starlet Mary Pickford, at that time one of the most powerful people in the industry. He came to be her personal spiritual advisor during her break up with Douglas Fairbanks Sr. Through Pickford, Norvell was introduced to other movie stars, important business men and luminaries from the worlds of religion and politics. His personal counseling and coaching helped guide many a person from obscurity to national prominence. Besides advising the powerful, Norvell also found time to dispense advice to troubled people during his numerous public appearances.

Norvell lectured for more than 30 years at the world-famous Carnegie Hall in New York, where there is a plaque in his honor, declaring him “The Twentieth Century Philosopher.” He wrote dozens of books, some of which have been used in universities. During the course of his career, Norvell made hundreds of predictions, many of which came true. He made frequent appearances on television and radio, both as a host and as a guest. Norvell gained a reputation far and wide as an expert in romantic relations as well as the hidden potential of the sub-conscious mind.

Some of that is true.

Norvell was in all likelihood either a juvenile Greek emigrant or the first generation offspring of recent arrivals. In one copyright form he gave his real name as Anthony Troupo. This may have been an Americanization. We know he wasn’t alone in the world as an orphan, since his nephew Peter Bravos married into the Rockefeller clan in 1963 (Winnipeg Free Press 11/07/1963). He at least had one sibling. Oddly it seems his sibling had moved back to Greece. As for the name ‘Norvell’, it was common of the type used by spiritualists in the era just before he started his career, a probable take off on the word ‘Novelty’.

Much of his career prior to meeting Mary Pickford cannot be verified. That he claims to have studied at various universities without obtaining any degree is telling. Moreover, Norvell had a demonstrable tendency to parse his words. A literalist would find many of his claims factually nebulous. He was also not beneath outright lying, even in print. My conjecture is that if Norvell had any formal training whatsoever, it was as a spiritualist. There were many people plying acts similar to his in Vaudeville and the Catskills. The lifestyle he maintained for the majority of his adulthood is very similar to that of people who made their livings in the absolute lowest rung of the entertainment industry. That is, if he wasn’t a gypsy to begin with. He may have had another, more personal, reason for living in the manner that he did.

From what I can tell, Norvell never held a job, until perhaps late in life. His story is largely an adventure in self-employment. Regardless of what his training and education may or may not have been, there is no doubting that Norvell was a bright and gifted individual. He was a very adept public speaker, having mastered a toned down carnival barker’s style, similar to the one adopted by the likes of Ron Popiel. (And many other seemingly high energy self help gurus.) One on one, he could tantalize with a soft, even voice and smiling eyes—testament to his empathy or additional evidence of him being a stone cold sociopath.



Whatever he was doing for the twenty-two years prior, by the time he hit tinsel town he had his act down solid. Norvell alludes to the idea that he had first come to Hollywood to get into the movies himself. He wasn’t a bad looking guy and he could certainly think on his feet. Not long after leaving Hollywood the second time, Norvell claimed to have been in a few movies, but never gave the titles (Kingsport News 5/17/1956). Nor are there any database records of him having appeared in any films, at least under the name Norvell. We know he had established the name Anthony Norvell prior to coming to Los Angeles and would never be known professionally under any other.

It’s a little unclear how he met Mary Pickford. Even after Norvell had established himself as the Astrologer to The Stars, he had a habit of showing up in any place he knew a crowd would be gathering. Once in the crowd, he would mingle and begin seemingly extemporaneously speaking on whatever subject was at hand—at just above a conversational tone, careful to make eye contact with as many people as he could. This is a variation of the old carnival barker’s tactic. At some point during his routine, when he has segregated a willing target or is getting a reaction from a set group, Norvell would work in that he was a psychic and pitch his two dollar reading. (Works best on a gaggle of young women.) If he does this enough, he eats for the day. Given that he plied this method even after he was established makes me think he may have done so before hand. My supposition is that he ran into Pickford at one of these gatherings.



Or he may have run into her at a party where he was performing. Much of Norvell’s early Hollywood career was spent as a professional dinner party entertainer. Once he had gained Pickford’s confidence, Norvell chose a very curious method of monetizing their relationship. He had photographs of himself taken with Mary Pickford and ran off 8 X 10 copies of them by the dozen. These pictures became his business cards. So now when he was working a crowd, as opposed to hustling for two dollar readings, he could pull out a photograph and indicate his availability for parties. (1)

Key to this act was that Norvell was very presentable, glib and perfectly charming. Even if you didn’t buy into his act, there was considerable amusement value in watching his attempt to put one over. He was so sincere. He had such a straight face about the whole thing. And he’s unflappable. Also, in his gentlemanly way, he’s harmless.

That was also key to the act. The convention of having spiritualists as dinner party entertainment had been established at the turn of the century. The problem with spiritualists is that far too many of them were criminals. They cased your house. Confederates stole from the coats and purses. Visitor’s cars were stolen. Worse, if the spiritualist found an unguarded, gullible person, they would fleece them without mercy.

Some very prominent people had been hoodwinked by spiritualists, including Sherlock Holmes’ creator Conan Doyle. Harry Houdini, besides being a magician and a real live pulp magazine star himself, had a second career in debunking the spiritualists. There was also a whiff of religion about spiritualism which prompted a backlash from conservative religious interests. By the time Norvell showed up in Hollywood, spiritualism was dead as dinner theater.



Which is probably the reason Norvell never claimed to be a spiritualist. His mumbo jumbo claim was that he was essentially selectively telepathic. (Later branded as Tele-Cosmic.) Instead of showing up with a pack of assistants, he worked alone. As opposed to an act full of props for parlor tricks pulled in the dark, Norvell does his routine with the lights on where everyone can see his hands. He gives his dippy believe in yourself speech and maybe upsells a few guests into a reading. (There is another potential add on to the act, which we will go into later.) All in all, this is very much the sanitized and safe version of this form of entertainment.

Moreover, Norvell appears to have monopolized this revival of the spiritualist as paid dinner performer gig for about ten years. He was the first person in town to do it and he was certainly the most famous of the practitioners. Let’s say he pulled the top rate.



Although Norvell was a pioneer in the field of non-threatening psychic home entertainers, he was not the originator of his own act. There were a number of people who did more or less the same shtick. Once the spiritualists had fallen out of favor, the entire Occult Crapola industry went in for a thorough rebranding. Mediums and their spirit guides were out—as were boards and palmistry and tarot cards and crystal balls—unleashing the powers of your mind was in. Part of this was an attempt to co-opt the popularity of Freudian Psychology by liberally borrowing from its terminology. We see the popularity of this mess, now called New Age, starting to build by the mid 1920s.



Norvell himself could lay claim to having coined the term ‘New Age’, since one of his early billings was as ‘the Philosopher for a New Age.’ New Age could also be claimed by the Theosophy movement, which was a somewhat different refuge for ex-spiritualists and also at its height at the time. He did not, however, ever make any such claim. Trying to differentiate himself was always one of Norvell’s core aims. Despite this, Norvell was a fairly doctrinaire New Ager of his time, always ready to spew what we today call psychobabble. Then as today, many people had heard Freudian terminology, but few people actually read Freud or knew what the terms denoted. Norvell had no idea what the terms meant, either. Over his career Norvell came up with his own idiosyncratic definitions for the terms—although he was very consistent in their application. For example, as opposed to Freud’s view of the subconscious as a receptacle of animal drives, Norvell defined it as potential psychic energy which acts as an conduit to higher planes of existence, a portal to the universe hidden by our other senses.

(This is not a difference of opinion. Freud is right. Norvell is making things up.)

On top of his set act and as a byproduct of his involvement with Mary Pickford, Norvell also picked up a reputation as a relationships expert. This is strange, since Mr. Norvell was not married until his 40s. During his first run in Hollywood he most copiously managed not to be intimately involved with any women whatsoever. And Mary Pickford was not Norvell’s only movie starlet client. He had at least two others. As with Pickford, he had photos of himself taken with them which he also used for promotional purposes. For some reason these pretty Hollywood actresses did not feel threatened by Norvell, a handsome young man in his twenties, and just poured out their hearts to him. Becoming known as an expert in handling problems of normal romantic relationships when you don’t apparently have any normal romantic relationships yourself, is a hell of a trick. But he pulled it off. Some things only happen in Hollywood.



Whatever advice Norvell was giving Mary Pickford and his other two starlets, it did not seem to work. The careers of all three of his headliner clients were dead by the time Norvell started hitting his stride in the mid 1930s. It is almost as if Norvell was a fame vampire—his career ascending as Pickford’s and the others crashed and burned. Both Pickford and the others had the exact same problem: they were silent film actresses who could not adapt their styles to the talkies. Pickford continued to have a career in Hollywood off camera. The other two starlets imploded entirely. By the time Norvell was peddling himself to the pulps as the Astrologer to The Stars, all of his named clients had faded from the scene.

It was during the middle 30s that Norvell’s act seems to start moving away from dinner parties. He isn’t giving public lectures as yet, but there are numerous references to radio programs he appeared on and perhaps a nationally syndicated advice feature. I was not able to find any trace of a feature through a search of newspaper archives. Old time radio databases for this era are sketchy. Unless he appeared on a national program, there is probably not going to be much of a record. He has a fairly well documented career on television and radio after the war. I have no reason to doubt that he was on the radio pre-war, at least locally. By the mid 1930s he had become local color.



He also seems to have struck up a professional relationship with Walter Winchell at about the same time. A former Vaudeville performer himself, Walter Winchell went on to be one of the country’s most prominent gossip columnists as well as a radio host. Winchell would remain one of Norvell’s biggest sources of free publicity for as long as both of their careers lasted. I am unclear if Norvell was one of Winchell’s paid informants. Norvell would have made a good one, if so.



A much more direct connection between Winchell and getting Norvell in the pulps can be made. Winchell was a frequent contributor to many Hollywood fan magazines and then later the scandal magazines. By the mid 1930s Norvell was in some of these same magazines. When Winchell eventually went to the scandal rags, Norvell followed. The only national newspaper features penned by Norvell that I can find are in supermarket tabloids.



Hollywood fan magazines were dominated by Fawcett publications and had started at the turn of the century. It was an extremely profitable niche. By the time Norvell and Winchell showed up, it had become an ultra crowded field. Scandal such as what Winchell was peddling would not become a feature of these magazines until the post war 40s. Astrology along with other gimmicks started to creep in by the early 1930s. Having some sort of named astrologer was the next logical step and Norvell was the only astrologer anyone in Hollywood could name.

His career in the movie magazines was inconsistent and fairly short lived. His occasional spread of star charts and predictions appeared intermittently from 1933 until 1945 or so. His only actual consistent print run was as a supermarket tabloid astrologer in the 1970s.

Norvell’s early work was confined to two magazines, both put out by pulp publishers. He appeared occasionally in Fawcett’s Hollywood Magazine and the Thrilling Group’s (Popular Library) Screenland Magazine. (2) His was what we have since come to know as the typical fare for astrologers. He did charts of the stars. He did an astrology section for the audience. And he made predictions. This may have been at editorial direction, but this was something of a stretch for an astrologer at the time. Norvell had broken new ground.



This 1936 pulp is seemingly entirely by Norvell. (The 1936 date may be questionable.) Other than Norvell’s wonderful predictions, the entire magazine is a filled with stories about Hollywood sex orgies. If Norvell did write the entire magazine, he was showing off a depth not found in the rest of his works.

We know Norvell did some additional pulp work at this point. In 1940 Norvell produced a series of pamphlets called Astrology, Romance, You and the Stars, which were subdivided by zodiac sign and sold by mail order through Conel Books. Conel Books was the parent company of William Cotton’s Ideal Magazines—later a publisher of Hollywood Fan Magazines but at the time still part of the Centaur Comics organization. These pamphlets saw wide distribution as drug store impulse buys, very similar to the star scrolls and other small astrology books you see peddled in quick mart stores today. Perhaps this was yet another first for Norvell. Norvell may have either combined these pamphlets into a book of the same name or reused their trademark as a title for one of his later books.. Along with career sports hack William Kofoed, Norvell constructed a series of Star Guides also for Conel Books. (3)These were similar in lay out to Bird Watchers guides which were popular at the time. As opposed to birds, they were filled with pictures of leading movie stars. The intention was for the owner to write in when and where he had seen such and such a star. Unlike the astrology pamphlets, this particular novel waste of wood pulp didn’t catch on for long. (Only two editions are known.) Actual magazines filled with astrology became popular right about this time, too. William Cotton and Fawcett (and others) were known to have produced these magazines starting in a period concurrent with Norvell’s other pulp projects. There is, however, no record of these magazines as a genre, so what contribution Norvell may have had is unknown. Even today, no one saves astrology magazines. Their cataloging is a task which has attracted no historical interest whatsoever.



Interest seems to have been waning in Norvell’s act with the heat up of WWII. Paper rationing forced publishers to scale back even on their Hollywood magazine offerings. Hollywood dinner parties with live entertainment went straight out of fashion. (And never really came back, at least as far as the astrologer acts were concerned.) Austerity was the tone of the times. Even those people with money were loath to be seen spending it on frivolous services such as dry cleaning, much less astrology readings and relationship counseling. It seems Norvell’s income was taking a major hit. By 1945 he had moved back to his native New York.

1945 was the year Novell’s first book, The Magnificent Life, was published by middleweight hardcover house Theo. Gaus' Sons. This 232 page epic was a self help guide with chapters titles such as “Make Your Life Magnificent”;” Keys to Your Inner Kingdom”; “Attract through Positive Mind Power” and the trademark keystone of New Age philosophy ”The Universal Law of Abundance.”

Oddly, it is the iconic Universal Law of Abundance which has lately seen new life, last packaged as Oprah Book sensation ‘The Secret’. Norvell himself thought of the idea as something of a throwaway. When selling horse feathers, it is never all that good of an idea to belabor the point about how the horse grows feathers in the first place. The basis of the Law of Abundance essentially is that if you want something hard enough, envision yourself having something well enough and stay all happy and drippy and open, you will get what you want. This theory, such as it is, has been thoroughly scientifically disproven.



For Norvell the Law of Abundance (or Law of Attraction) was simply the process of a strata of psychic physics—forces which could be called into action by releasing your inner unconscious power. Thus if the Law of Abundance isn’t working for you, you aren’t plying Norvell’s methods correctly. Hence the need for more instruction. If you are still not rich, try more Norvell.

The Magnificent Life was a compost of the content of Norvell’s act. In person, there was a little bit more to it. Mixed in with Norvell’s happy talk meets psychobabble were occasional permutations of Bible passages, such as his most often cited line: “Plant a kernel of wheat and you reap a pint; plant a pint and you reap a bushel. Always the law works to give you back more than you give.” Like a stand up comic, Norvell had a well honed arsenal of short pithy one liners he would toss out at the occasional skeptic. Beyond the well placed delivery of a one liner, however, Norvell’s tactic for dealing with skeptics was to basically talk through them—play to the people who are buying his routine and go on with the act as if the skeptics were to be pitied because they were missing out on something grand.

In 1946 Norvell appeared at Carnegie Hall for the first time, probably in promotion of The Magnificent Life. There’s an old joke about how you get to Carnegie Hall. As opposed to practice, practice, practice, you can also rent the hall. There are actually two main performance areas at Carnegie Hall. Per the hall’s admittedly fragmentary records, Norvell rented out the smaller 268 seat recital hall at least four times in 1946. The title of at least one of his talks was “A New Philosophy for a New Age.” Norvell also lived at Carnegie Hall, this first time perhaps through the early part of 1948.



At the time Carnegie Hall was topped by towers of small apartment units, primarily for the use of persons involved in the arts. They may have been somewhat intended as transient housing, however Norvell was not alone in pitching a tent there for extended periods of time. At the time Norvell first made his home here, the hall itself was starting a long decline. Although the apartments were cheap by any standards, they were also not at all modern.

The Magnificent Life was something less than a raving success itself. It was not reviewed. Norvell was on his own as far as promoting it was concerned. Part of the failure could be blamed on timing. Astrology, after all, had been Hitler’s religion. With the world still coming to grips with the war’s aftermath, there was very little inclination to indulge in overly serious ‘isms’ of any kind, especially occultism. There was also still a Depression on, which would not truly fade until 1948. That said, at 232 pages, The Magnificent Life may have been a bit too much Norvell in one helping. And it was sort of unfocused, lacking advertisement of any real definable boon to the reader, something of a key for self-help books. Norvell never wrote another book of that length again. In fact, it would be twelve years before he wrote his next book. .

Beyond his book tour, Norvell appears to have found employment at the hall as something of an itinerant radio MC. There is a reference to him as Master of Ceremonies for a radio program called the Bulova Watch Glee Club. The program ran at least once (5/4/1947) and featured conductor Robert Malone, baritone Richard Schnorbus and tenor Michael Commini. Other than the hall’s entry, there is no record of this program either with Bulova or any radio database. What career Norvell may have had as announcer does not seem to have gained much traction.

Late in 1948, Norvell, at that time 42, married the widowed Edna Johnson, then 60. To the broad minded 42 and 60 are just numbers--as is 450,000, the number of dollars Edna’s late husband left her. The couple set up housekeeping back in Hollywood and for the next six years Norvell made no appearances and authored not a jot of text. I am fairly content that if this worked out, we would have never again heard of Anthony Norvell.

It did not. Edna divorced him in 1955. Per a story running in papers of the day:

“Hollywood, Oct 20 1955—The 65 year-old wife of astrologer Anthony Norvell, 49, charges that through false promises he gained control of her inheritance of $450,000. In a divorce action filed yesterday Mrs. Edna Norvell alleges that with “intent to deceive” Norvell has obtained control of the money she inherited from her late husband Orson Johnson, son of A. P. Johnson, wealthy pioneer realtor. Charging extreme cruelty, Mrs. Norvell said she and her husband separated Sept 1, 1954 after six years of marriage.”(Oakland Tribune 10/20/1955)

Other papers jumped on the angle of a relationship guru getting a divorce.

This sadly leads me to the way most astrologers, psychics, self-help gurus and other quacks actually make their livings. Like Jeane Dixon and others, Norvell had a number of personal clients. These are the quack's prime fleecing victims—unwary types willing to spill continual silver across the charlatan’s palms for special cooing and attention. These are people confidence operators like Dixon and Norvell grab by the ankles and shake until the last coin rolls out. (4) Actually marrying one of the marks is a little extreme, but at the time Norvell had 450 thousand reasons for doing so. He wasn’t getting any younger and his act was a demonstrable flop. Moreover, I have no reason to think that at any time in his career did Norvell stop fleecing his special clients.

What exactly Edna Norvell meant by “extreme cruelty” we would need her divorce papers to guess at. She certainly did have reason to suspect his talents as an investment manager, if the following expert from the NEA wires is any example:

He Built N.Y. On a Dream

New York—When he was eight, Guy Miller got his first look at the towers of Manhattan and went home to Harrisburg, Pa with the dream that someday he would build them all in miniature. Five years ago he listened to a lecture on “dream, dare and do” by Anthony Norvell, a New York and California philosopher. He took his dream to Norvell, who was fascinated by it. He told young Miller to go to work.

Today Miller has finished 155 square blocks of his dream city—more than 1000 buildings made of balsa wood, cardboard, glass, plastic, glue and string. They are scaled half an inch to a floor: his Empire State Building is six and a half feet high.

Miller’s unfinished Manhattan is a city 25 x 46 feet in New York’s new Coliseum. Norvell, a lecturing philosopher who was once a movie actor, figures he’s invested more than $100,000 so far—expects it will cost close to half a million when finished. Miller won’t be satisfied until he’s finished Manhattan from the Battery to 125th Street.

“I can’t tell when,” he says. “It may be several years.”

New York City, however, already has expressed interest in making Miller’s miniatures a permanent part of the Museum of Natural History. Miller would like to use his city to raise money for the fight against cancer: to him, it’s a dream monument to his mother who died of cancer when he was nine. (Kingsport News 5/17/1956)

After making something of a splash—including a photo spread in Life magazine—offers to house Miller’s miniatures evaporated. It wound up as a sideshow attraction at Coney Island, from which it was eventually evicted. The whereabouts of the entire balsawood mass is today unknown.(5) Miller is one of only two people we have on record as ever having been inspired by Anthony Norvell. The other is Sirhan Sirhan, the assassin of Robert Kennedy. (6)



Post divorce, Norvell moved back to Carnegie Hall. A one room studio above the hall would be the closest Norvell would ever come to having a permanent residence. Per the Hall’s archives there are indications Norvell gave almost weekly lectures there for about 25 years, many of them taking place in his studio. As for the plaque, there never was one placed inside the hall in his honor. Instead he is said to have placed the sign on the door of his apartment.



Norvell wrote a second book, How to Control Your Destiny, in 1957. Despite publicity from Walter Winchell, it seems to have fared little better than The Magnificent Life. On the other hand, Norvell landed a local TV show on KTTV at about the same time. How long The Norvell Show: The Power of Your Subconscious Mind lasted we have only fragmentary data to guess from. He was probably the first astrologer or self help guru with his own television show. He seems to have been doing whatever he could to stay in Hollywood at this time.

Having tried and failed as a sideshow promoter, astrologer, gigolo, star nanny, lecturer and author, Norvell spent much of 1959 taking a turn at the religious cult racket. It appears to have been something of a closed end effort. Calling himself Doctor Anthony Norvell and acting as the Director of the Church of Religious Mind Sciences of Hollywood, he began taking out advertisements for a series of lectures he was giving in Long Beach.

Per the advertisement: Mind Science Talk. Dr. Anthony Norvell, lecturer, author and teacher on Mind Science will deliver two free lectures tomorrow and Monday at the Morgan Hall. Dr. Norvell lectured in Carnegie Hall New York City for 12 years on Religious Mind Science. This will be his first appearance in Long Beach since 1952.

Per another advertisement: “Dr. Anthony Norvell. Sunday March 8—8 P.M. “Miracle Power of Your Mind” Monday, March 9—8 P.M. “Living a More Abundant Life” Morgan Hall 835 Locust Ave. Listen to Dr. Norvell, Radio DSIL XEMO 6:30-8:45 AM (860 Church of Religious Mind Sciences of Los Angeles).

Norvell wrote another book for his new movement, The Inner Secret. This book greatly resembles a Theosophy text in both format and presentation. That said, Los Angeles was not a center of the Theosophy movement, so there is probably no intention of attempting to troll for former members.



Exactly who or what it is that Norvell is trolling for is hard to say. As you can see here, there was no shortage of new forms of religion going on at the time. Whatever Norvell is doing, it seems clear that he is going all out on this effort. It has the feel of desperation and doubling down to it.

Some of Norvell’s modern promoters have come away with the idea that he had a drive time radio program or that he had some form of continual and popular media exposure. Whether that comes from whole cloth, Norvell’s own overblown publicity or misreading advertisements like this is unclear.



This is not an advertisement for a morning drive time whacky DJ radio show. (Although this would be the right time period for such.) XEMA is not a top 40 Los Angeles area radio station. Instead, it is a super powerful Mexican station. At 150,000 watts, XEMA and her sister border stations were three times as powerful as AM broadcasters were allowed to be in the US. The draw of these stations is that they could cover almost the entire west coast and mid west at night. The prime hours were really after dusk. The morning slot is actually garbage time. Although XEMA had a clear channel and could hit Los Angeles, it was pretty fuzzy and was largely known as a brokered religious broadcaster.



The deal with XEMA and the others like it was that they sold questionable products via mail order. The station then fulfilled the orders from Mexico and took 50% of the take. With the religious broadcasters, they either charged up front or took 50% of the offerings arriving at their mailbox. Which plan Norvell was on I cannot say. Other than to guess it was to promote his lecture series and thus the start of his wonderful new cult, there is no telling what the radio show was about. Norvell was not at it for very long.

The entire effort to found a new religion failed. My thinking was that he ran through all the money he had left. Having shot his wad, Norvell and the Church of Mind Science of Hollywood/Los Angeles packed up for a 15 x 15 studio above Carnegie Hall. There would be no big time. There would be no great second act.

Besides, running a cult sounds a bit too much like work--something Mr. Norvell had no demonstrated capacity for.

As opposed to simply running out of funds, something else may have happened. He never again billed himself as a doctor. He never again claimed that his philosophy was a religion.

His efforts did have some residual effect. He proceeded to write more books. It appears he made enough to keep himself in his apartment and then later move to modest housing in Los Angeles. Through various sources, I have found record of Norvell having authored 31 books.

1. The Magnificent Life, 1945
2. How To Control Your Destiny, 1957
3. The Inner Secret. 1959 (Religious text created for the Church of Mind Science)
4. Norvell’s Dynamic Mental Laws For Successful Living, 1965
5. Meta-Physics: New Dimensions of the Mind, 1967
6. How to Train Your Child’s Subconscious Mind for Health, Wealth and Happiness, 1968
7. Cosmic Magnetism: The Miracle of the Magic Power Circle, 1970
8. How to Develop Your Psychic Power for Health, Wealth and Security, 1970
9. Mind Cosmology, 1971
10. Occult Science: How to Get What You Want Through Your Occult Powers, 1971
11. Astrology, Romance, You and the Stars, 1971
12. The Miracle Power of Transcendental Meditation, 1972
13. One Hundred Thousand Dollar Dream and How to Make it Come True, 1973
14.Universal Secrets of Telecosmic Power, 1974
15. The Oriental 7-Day Quick Weight Off Diet, 1975
16. Money Magnetism: How to Grow Rich Beyond Your Wildest Dreams, 1975
17. The Million Dollar Secret Hidden in Your Mind, 1976
18. Teach Your Child Transcendental Meditation, 1977
19. Exorcism: Overcome Black Magic with White Magic, 1977
20. Psychic Dreamology, 1977
21. Psychomatics: The Secret Power of Super-Persuasion, 1977
22. Alpha-Physics Mystic Path to Perfect Living, 1977
23. Astrology: Your Wheel of Fortune, 1978
24. The Mystical Power of Pyramid Astrology, 1978
25. Never Underestimate the Selling Power of a Woman, 1978
26. Mystical Power of Universal Healing, 1979
27. Miracle Power of the I-Ching, 1982
28. Miracle of Prosperity Magic, 1982
29. How Self Made Millionaires Build Their Fortunes, 1982
30. The New Calorie Neutralizer Diet, 1983
31. Amazing Secrets of the Mystic East, 1983

Norvell became a low midlist writer, primarily pumping out trash for the impulse paperback market, which was thriving at the time. Many of Norvell’s books were translated. But not all of Norvell’s books were published or marketed the same ways. Norvell had a two track appeal as a writer. He did surveys of mystical subjects for the curious. Those were his main paperbacks. And then he did the hard core self-help mystic double drivel stuff, intended for the consumption of true believers. These were published by a division of a major house which generally put out sports manuals for use at conferences. It isn’t quite vanity publishing, but it wasn’t retail publishing either. These hardcore mystic books followed Norvell around from one personal appearance to the next. It was part of his upsell after his lectures.



Norvell was on a continual book tour from the 1960s on. He was a guest on local talk shows. He was the guest evening DJs could always get on the horn because he was always selling something. This is not at all the career of consulting the powerful that Norvell claimed to have. Instead his career path more resembles that of your average convention demo rep. (7) Norvell was continually schlepping his miserable self and his lousy books from one dismal rented hall or fair to the next.



A lot of Norvell’s books were recycle jobs. Other than title, the difference between One Hundred Thousand Dollar Dream and How to Make it Come True and The Million Dollar Secret Hidden in Your Mind is nebulous. Many of the books are simply expansions on subjects he covered in his first two books. He also does a lot of trend glomming. When Transcendental Meditation became hot, he started peddling that. When the Exorcist spawned a slew of horror movies, he starts copying that. He’s usually a good two years behind whatever wagon train he’s trying to join.



In the middle 1970s Norvell branched out beyond the cosmic into the realm of diet books. Like astrologer, he found the credentials of an eating expert easy enough to obtain. The Oriental 7-Day Quick Weight Off Diet actually got him into a bit of trouble, since the diet was demonstrably dangerous. The fact that it was so condemned gave certain members of the public the idea that it worked. It actually does not work and is dangerous. It’s core premise (and only idea) is that you can eat as much brown rice as you want and never gain weight—thus if you eat only brown rice you are sure to lose weight. The publisher ran with the idea that it was about to be banned and gave the book 15 different names. This is about as close to a best seller as Norvell ever had. So he later followed up with another diet book which was equally bad.



You will note how many books Norvell wrote after retirement age. My thinking is that he could not retire and that he had no savings. If he had failed to pay into the Social Security system--and you would need a job for that--then he could not collect.(8) Besides the impulse paperbacks and point of sale books, Norvell was also commissioned by Barnes & Noble to write various condensed compendiums on occult sciences. In his later career, he seems to have been adding his name to other people’s work for marketing purposes, specifically into Barnes & Noble. This seems the case with Never Underestimate the Selling Power of a Woman. There wasn’t a lot of money in the type of writing he was doing, so he had to do quite a bit of it. Between the books, the appearances and his supermarket tabloid work, it seems to have been enough to keep him in nice clothing, at least.



As for Norvell’s supermarket tabloid predictions, I think it goes without saying that none of them ever came true. And if you need it said: when Paul Harvey investigated the claims of psychics in 1979 he made particular mention of Anthony Norvell for being particularly full of beans. In fact, if you go back to Norvell’s specific predictions about movie stars in the 1930s and 1940s, you will find his batting average a stunning zero.

Even in his dotage, Norvell could not resist working a crowd he knew would gather. An example of his later huckstering was well covered in 1973:

“Hollywood (UPI) Several hundred persons turned out for a memorial service at silent star Rudolph Velentino’s mausoleum Thursday, the 47th anniversary of his death.

Many of the same persons have been turning out each year for decades. “(UPI 8/24/1973)

“Anthony Norvell told several hundred persons that he had prepared an astrological chart which plotted how Valentino’s life would have developed had he not died in 1926 at the age of 31. Norvell said the silent screen actor would have survived the coming of talking pictures.”

Although the talkies doomed the careers of many an actor with a weak voice, Norvell contended that Valentino would have been “a major star through the 1960s.” (Long Beach Independent 8/24/1973)

All olf this begs the question: If Norvell had this chart, why didn’t he show it to Valentino himself? Norvell was in town at the time. And if Norvell could foretell methods of surviving the coming of talking pictures, why didn’t he tell Mary Pickford?



Norvell’s line of crap did eventually wear thin. By the early 1980s, even his vanity publisher had dropped him. Without the tours, his books were not worth printing. As an 80 year old man, he was no longer up for much travel. That does not mean he was not working his scam to some degree, if the following old manuscript advertisement can be believed:

Norvell (Anthony Norvell) ALS/handwritten letter signed, 1 page with 3 holes along left margin where letter was kept in binder, minimal wear only, Norvell is a popular author on astrological and occult subjects who occasionally does performances, this is a letter dated Aug. 1989 acquired at a Fairfield County, Connecticut, estate sale of a former leading Hollywood reporter with an interest in spirituality, Norvell writes "You can use my name Norvell [underlined] on any articles you may wish," and mentioning health problems of himself and also the recipient's wife. At the top the recipient has written in red pencil “Hold in File!”and at the bottom in red pencil “Important!”, with both notations underlined, Rare handwritten correspondence from this noted individual in the field of astrology,

Although it’s nice to see Norvell still active, you have to be dubious about what he was peddling. You see, Norvell wasn’t a harmless crank. He was a confirmed predator and a peddler of untruth. He didn’t simply tell people things they wanted to hear about themselves--he sold lies and trafficked in confidence. He was utterly heartless. Picking on the infirm of health was just par for the course.

Norvell may have also been a pioneer in another form. During the early 1990s Norvell or someone using his name started splattering the use groups with advertisements for sure fire winning lottery numbers. His name was also attached to some of the first Spam that was ever sent.

Anthony Norvell died in the early 1990s. There was no obituary for him under his stage name. No one has claimed ownership of his various copyrighted materials. For such an expert on the subjects of money, power, love and security, he doesn’t seem to have personally enjoyed much himself.

(1) There is a very good possibility that at this point in his career, Norvell had an agent. This is probably not true after the publication of his first book. After that time Norvell seems to be entirely a one man show.

(2) Popular Library is a Thrilling Group brand name. The firm had several. I am not certain that Thrilling Group actually published Screenland at the time Norvell was in it. What I am certain of is that it was published by Popular Library.

(3) There’s also a possibility Kofoed did it on his own. The source material for this citation is a bit scrambled and hard to read. Norvell’s name appears with Kofoed’s, but it may be part of another listing entirely. We do know that both were working for William Cotton at the time.

(4) I have no reason to believe that Norvell fleeced Pickford or his other show horse clients. As in Dianetics, you never fleece the stars. They are your drawing card, your source of advertisement. If anything, the record shows Norvell dispensing rather blunt and streetwise advice to the lovelorn of all stripes. He may sugar coat it and couch it in mumbo jumbo, but his actual advice on matters of the heart was straight horse sense.

(5) Which is to say that it is not at Coney Island. My search after that came up empty. Given that even during its heyday, parts of it were being let out of the display for photo ops, the odds of its survival are pretty low.

(6) Sirhan Sirhan had a lot of weird books in his flat. Norvell’s was just a flyer, indicating that Sirhan may have attended one of his lectures at one point, but not actually bought a book.

(7) Other than similarities in lifestyle, Norvell had no connection to the honest and hardworking career convention product demonstrators .

(8) This is conjecture. The last time Norvell had any money, he effectively retired. He very well may have taken a job as something after moving to LA the last time. Without paying in for a period of years, however, Norvell would not qualify for Social Security.

Underview: The hawkers of Norvell’s works have made claims that he lived in a mansion in Hollywood, but I can find no traces of it with real estate searches. From what I can tell, Norvell was a renter, except for the time of his marriage. His last known address is an apartment in Long Beach. Not to slam Long Beach, but few of its single bedroom units are likely to be mistaken for mansions.

There are also two people who seem to be carrying on Norvell’s work. One has Mr. Norvell’s name misspelled on his website. Both of these public speaking astro gurus are claiming to have been trained by Norvell himself. And both seem completely up to Norvell’s standards as far as shoddy claims are concerned. Sadly, neither seems to have the ability to wash up nicely like Norvell could. From the looks of Norvell, you could never tell he was broke. These two jokers have ‘destitute’ written across their expressions.

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We Don’t Know Everything!
I am not at all happy with this piece on several levels. I could argue that Mister Norvell is something of an obscurity, but I cannot escape the feeling that I have missed going over an available source or two. I will revise this as details come in.

I am not apologizing for my tone. People who claim to have superpowers are insane or putting you on. People who claim that you have superpowers are insane or putting you on. That is not an opinion. That is a fact. Also a fact is that Norvell did not keep his act at the level of an entertainment. He was a con man, a dishonest carny. He fleeced old ladies. He tried to start a cult. That makes him scum. Period.

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Sorry it took over a week to post again. Next post will be far less ambitious. I am again hoping for mid week.