Edward Gorey (1925–2000)

It's Edward Gorey, so minimal text, lots of space in the illustrations, but where there is something, it's painstakingly cross hatched and detailed. Rhyming couplets of apparent nonsense, Edwardian effeteness, fur coats, silk smoking jackets and drives in an open-top jalopy, with the inevitable Goreyesque death and ambiguous ending to round it off.

On one level, a whimsical tale of the relationship between a bird and a man, but Gorey leaves that space for his readers to fill with their own show more meaning. On an initial read, I took an allegory of living with terminal illness, of the frustrations, anger and denial of coming to terms with mortality, and the sharpened appreciation of a life that has a clear sense of being finite and bounded. show less

My father introduced me to Edward Gorey's macabre comics when I was young. They immediately appealed to my instinct that the world is actually a warped, unexplainable place, and it is more interesting for being so. I never tire of returning to these collections to get my bearings.

Amphigorey (the first volume) contains some of Mr. Gorey's most excellent work. My favorites are "The Doubtful Guest" (do you know what a fantod is? They always wear tennis shoes); "The Curious Sofa"; and of course, show more "The Gashlycrumb Tinies" ("N is for Neville who died of ennui").

If you are overwhelmed by sap, sentimentality and banality, a few minutes with Mr. Gorey will revive you. show less

Can't believe I'm only giving four stars to an Edward Gorey book -- and yes, I know that four stars is a fantastic review if you actually read the definitions that pop up when you hold the cursor by the rating bar. But we're talking about Edward Gorey here.

This is a book that was put together by his estate. He wrote it, and the drawings are also by him; but the text and images weren't meant to go together. Instead, the pictures were taken from his body of work to accompany a story that he show more wrote but never got around to illustrating.

The story itself is brilliant. But I found it difficult to read initially, because I was so distracted by the pictures. Whoever put this book together was patient and and clever; but it just doesn't work because it can't. Pictures aren't accidental accompaniments to a text in any book, but that goes triple for Edward Gorey's work.

I'm sure there are plenty of other unpublished and similarly unillustrated Gorey works. I wish that his estate would just go ahead and publish them as a collection of strange stories. Edward Gorey was as brilliant a writer as he was a visual artist, and I think it would be a strangely wonderful experience to read his words without benefit of images. It would definitely be better than another cobbling-together of this sort. show less

This miniature book, illustrated by Edward Gorey, is a pure delight punctuated with laugh-out-loud moments. An interview with the author enriches the story: "And because I had been looking for an idea for a new book, I thought what about a mother who keeps saying That's nice, dear, no matter what's happening." And later, upon seeing a neighbor boy she hadn't seen in a while: "Oh, for heaven's sake, of COURSE he's grown, don't sound so surprised. Surprised would be if he'd grown smaller."

A show more boy named Treehorn is shrinking, but the adults around him - parents, bus driver, teacher, principal - either ignore or deny his predicament or don't take him seriously. When Treehorn discovers a way to reverse his shrinking (a board game he'd sent away for from the back of a cereal box), everyone is relieved - so when he turns green, he decides, "I don't think I'll tell anyone...If I don't say anything, they won't notice."

See also: Imogene's Antlers by David Small

"Guess they couldn't think of any other name, once they thought of Treehorn." (bus driver, 38) show less