I was rummaging in the back room of a soon to be closed used book store in Kansas City. I don’t remember why the owner let me back there. I was rapidly scanning the stacks when I came across three small books with illustrated covers. Their titles were incomprehensible nonsense. They were called...

The Gashleycrumb Tinies
The Willowdale Handcar and
The Curious Sofa

As I glanced into each one, I found what I thought were children’s picture books. But I soon realized that these were not children’s books at all but pure amusement for adults. I bought all three books and have been a fan ever since.

Now if you aren’t familiar with those titles, or their author Edward Gorey, you might do just as well to start here. I have no interest in repeating that biographical data. In fact, Edward Gorey the man, has never been an object of interest to me. Rather, it is the books, those glorious books that have held my affections.

Gorey wrote and drew frequently dark, sometimes surrealistic, and reliably moribund tales, usually set in Victorian or Edwardian England. His humor never fails him. His ink drawings are sublime, and reward repeated viewing. Some tales are told as rhyming couplets, other times pages proceed with non sequiturs and complete nonsense.

If you would like a sample of his style of humor, please visit the limericks quoted in the previous blog post. (My word, such brilliant limericks and NO comments? Is everyone stunned to silence?)

If you would like an inexpensive way to discover Gorey’s work (since the small original books are highly collectible and quite expensive) you can purchase a paperback anthology called Amphigorey.

I’m not sure what else to say. Gorey’s books have been a source of total joy for me. He wrote over one hundred and I know I haven’t even read a quarter of those! So I have much to look forward to.

To Gorey’s obvious talent and generosity and to the joy his books have brought me over the years, I ring the Depot Bell.

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