Luigi Serafini

When I got this book in on hold, I just left it in my workroom and flipped through it whenever I was on break. I think it's the best way to read it, just open to random pages and see what you find. I love the gibberish text and how it was laid out. I love that the illustrations are done in pencil crayon.

When I was looking through it as an art book, I had a great time savouring all the little details. How much work must have gone into putting it together, and Serafini's weird imagination. But show more then I started thinking about it as a travel guide and it freaked me right out. I tried to imagine that I was planning a trip to this world, and I grabbed an encyclopedia to prepare. Everything got real uncanny valley for me pretty quick. I imagine I'd be delighted for a few days, taking in all the weird sights (and I'm sure, sounds and smells that aren't available in book form) and meeting the people who live there. But pretty soon, I'll hunger for something familiar, and everything I see will start to haunt me with its just-not-rightness. I kept thinking about that episode of Futurama where Fry's girlfriend ends up in the future and just can't handle all the new weird stuff that's happening. After a (probably pretty short) while, I'd want to just see or feel or eat or experience something comforting, and it would slowly destroy my psyche that I couldn't. It would be even worse than a place that is totally different from what I'm used to, because this world would tease me with familiarity. I would feel gaslighted by this vacation. I wouldn't be able to trust anything. Oh, ok, that animal looks like a hippo, that's pretty comforting but oh god its two halves are actually connected by wires ok ok I'll just look at this dog, it looks fluffy and normal and NOPE it doesn't have a head it's just a clear orb well that's fine, that's fine, we have clear orbs on Earth too, maybe I'll just have a bite of this juicy looking pear to calm me down AND IT'S BLEEDING THE PEAR IS BLEEDING INTO MY MOUTH OKAY I'm going to sit down here by this lake, lakes are nice and tranquil, though this lake is staring back at me with multiple pairs of eyes, which is unsettling, I think I'll go back to my room and lie down. I won't even be able to take comfort in making love for fear that my partner and I would turn into a crocodile. I mean I can't say I'm not intrigued by the idea of being one half of a crocodile for a short while, but I'd have to know that I could become human again and eat some food without it bleeding on me afterwards. Flipping through the pages of this book got slightly anxiety-inducing after thinking about going to visit. I'd have to get a room in the Earth Town neighborhood where people hold pens to write with instead of grafting nibs to the tips of their fingers and I can eat a banana that is banana all the way through and not partially made of tiny beads. Call me closed-minded but my tolerance for change is low. show less

Though this isn't a book I can say I "read" in the traditional sense, the art is otherworldly and psychedelic and so full of life and color. I have to wonder if Serafini was heavily under the influence when he created some of these pieces, since they range from goofy to strange to almost grotesque despite the bright color schemes, but I'm so glad to have experienced it nonetheless - my favorite was the last chapter where he drew a bunch of different cityscapes that were as alien as they were show more beautiful, making me wish I could actually visit them. I also wish I had more of a background in cryptography so I could try cracking the code of the language he used; even though he claimed it's an imaginary language, it would still be fun to attempt and the script just looks so systematic and orderly.

In other words - I remember hearing somewhere that his goal with this work was to allow readers to feel the same sort of fascination they did as children when first coming across books. I'd say he definitely achieved that bit, because I found myself drawn into this strange fictional universe in a way I haven't encountered in a very long time. The atmosphere reminds me of the spell book owned by Coriakin in the Narnia chronicles, which goes over a number of incantations with beautiful illustrations and doesn't allow you to go back once you've turned the page. And the text itself makes me think of the unknown language of the Voynich Manuscript, which is next on my reading list. Definitely an unforgettable experience of a book and one I'll revisit whenever I'm looking for creative inspiration. show less

Italian artist Luigi Serafini's Codex Seraphinianus is a gorgeous illuminated manuscript describing a world of the artist's imagining. One that's alien, yet familiar at the same time. The invented language he uses also recalls several all at the same time: Arabic, ancient Greek, and the Burmese alphabet. It demands that the reader take the time to carefully pour over each illustration and line of script in order to glean some insight into this unfamiliar world. Serafini's description of the show more creative process recalls a cloistered monk carefully transcribing the mysteries of the universe by candlelight. show less

Italian artist Luigi Serafini's Codex Seraphinianus is a gorgeous illuminated manuscript describing a world of the artist's imagining. One that's alien, yet familiar at the same time. The invented language he uses also recalls several all at the same time: Arabic, ancient Greek, and the Burmese alphabet. It demands that the reader take the time to carefully pour over each illustration and line of script in order to glean some insight into this unfamiliar world. Serafini's description of the show more creative process recalls a cloistered monk carefully transcribing the mysteries of the universe by candlelight. This is a must-have for fans of the unusual or those who want to add wonder to their lives. show less