juushika

Title: Antarctic Adventure: Scott's Northern Party
Author: Raymond E. Priestley
Published: 1914
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 380
Total Page Count: 567,645
Text Number: 2148
Read Because: cold boys & Wheeler influenced me, as below; Internet Archive has this one.
Review: The story of the Northern Party would have been a tale to tell had it not been overshadowed by the fate of Scott et al.: after a successful, albeit not especially interesting, summer and winter at Camp Adare, the next summer's sledging effort & lack of rescue by the ship resulted in probably the most uncomfortable overwinter stay in Antarctica. I don't say that lightly; this makes the Swedish Antarctic Expedition seem tolerable in comparison.

This got bumped up my TBR because Wheeler's biography of Cherry-Garrard calls it breezy and readable, and it sure is that. Priestley maintains his tone even in the depths of suffering. Funny, honest but oblique (I wish we had more details about everyone's chronic diarrhea—now that's a sentence I never expected to say), with clear illustrations and logistical information about living circumstances in the snow cave; and then quietly thoughtful and evocative, particularly when discussing how the party passed the time and maintained morale: inactivity and escapist daydreaming, song and elevating minor celebrations. This, after recounting another party member's dream: "This account may not seem relevant to the narrative of the winter, but these vivid dreams were the distinct feature of our life, so much so that we may be said to have had two separate existences in these months." That's the good shit. Skim the first half and enjoy the second; this is a good one, and I look forward to reading more about the Northern Party.

Discovered at the bottom of my book review file and proof that I really gotta notta let things accumulate with the intent of posting them in bulk, because the risk is that I never will. Anyway, these are rereads primarily from 2023 and 2024, with one from 2025

( Enchantress from the Stars, Sylvia Engdahl )

( Solaris, Stanisław Lem )

( Mortal Fire, Elizabeth Knox )

( The Fierce Yellow Pumpkin, Margaret Wise Brown, illustrated by Richard Egielski )

( Axiom's End, Lindsay Ellis )

( Truth of the Divine, Lindsay Ellis )

( The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin )

( The Obelisk Gate, N.K. Jemisin )

( The Stone Sky, N.K. Jemisin )

( Blood and Chocolate, Annette Crutis Klause )

( The Silver Kiss, Annette Curtis Klause )

( A Wind in the Door, Madeline L'Engle )

( Millions of Cats, Wanda Gág )

( Wilder Girls, Rory Power )

( The Death of Jane Lawrence, Caitlin Starling )

( Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke, Eric LaRocca )

Title: The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner: Written by Himself: With a detail of curious traditionary facts and other evidence by the editor
Author: James Hogg
Published: 1824
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 390
Total Page Count: 550,215
Text Number: 2049
Read Because: this recommendation list, Project Gutenberg has this one
Review: Predestined for salvation, the second and unrecognized son of a laird can commit no sin—he can't be guilty even when his mysterious companion urges him to murder his brother. This isn't the easiest historical novel to get into; I found the Scots a consistent barrier to entry, and the frame narration is incredibly effective but also makes for a divided tone and pacing. But! Who cares! The frame introduces the external facts; the titular memoir, the subjective reality of unreliable narration. In combination, this is a why-/how-dun-it satirical psychological gothic novel, simultaneously comically unsubtle—

I had a desire to slay him, it is true, and such a desire too as a thirsty man has to drink; but, at the same time, this longing desire was mingled with a certain terror, as if I had dreaded that the drink for which I longed was mixed with deadly poison. My mind was so much weakened, or rather softened about this time, that my faith began a little to give way, and I doubted most presumptuously of the least tangible of all Christian tenets, namely, of the infallibility of the elect.

—and beautifully indeterminate, namely in the uncanny friend's seduction, liberation, and harrowing of the sinner himself. I immediately pinged Dumas's A History of Fear as inspired by this (it is), but I'd go further and call it a retelling, structurally but also thematically, right down to the queerness. But Justified Sinner is better: a seductive subtext (fascinating counterpoint to the devil in MacLane's I Await the Devil's Coming or Warner's Lolly Willowes), much denser narrative, and frankly hilarious. This is one for the reread pile, particularly trusting that the difficult parts will be easier with familiarity.


( Another quote. )

Title: All the Living and the Dead
Author: Hayley Campbell
Narrator: Hayley Campbell
Published: Macmillan Audio, 2022
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 290
Total Page Count: 524,300
Text Number: 1906
Read Because: personal enjoyment, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: I'm of two minds on this one. I read a lot about death work, as one does. Campbell's pool of subjects is broad, but the category is broader; some of her picks feel chosen for novelty more than representation, but some (specifically bereavement midwives) were genuinely new to me and captivating. Campbell structures the book chronologically in order to explore her own changing relationship with death through the course of her research; and she turns an open mind to a diversity of experiences and, fundamentally, coping mechanisms. All good. And all flawed, as the personal anecdotes are overbearing but sympathetic, and the human interest focus is unreliably applied, hypercritical one moment, complacent the next (the section on the Mayo Clinic filled me with concern and then rage, as Campbell blithely agrees, yes, fatphobia is probably a good and necessary training tool for medical professionals!). I read about death work for much the same reason Campbell was compelled to write about it, so of course I enjoyed this: many morbid curiosities answered, complicated relationships with death given compassionate room, good stuff, my jam; but, occasionally, frustrating.


( Memorable quote, CW cancer, death, dead dad talk. )

The genesis of finally doing a deep (ish) (I am reading what Open Library has on offer, skipping Christmas books, but including multiple editions) Margaret Wise Brown was that she popped up in Hannah McGregor's A Sentimental Education, particularly in the context of queer picture authors/illustrators edited by Ursula Nordstrom, herself a lesbian. McGregor mentions that Nordstrom edited Arnold Lobel, James Marshal, Tomie dePaola, Maurice Sendak, and MWB, among others.*

This - the overlap between queer creators and children's fiction - is something I had noticed when delving into picture books a few years ago; it's an overlap probably not limited to Nordstrom, although her role is absolutely pivotal. But it's also so ... natural. McGregor comments that many beloved queer picture book authors (she mentions MWB, Edward Gorey, and Maurice Sendak IIRC) famously did not have, like, and/or indicate that they were writing for children, necessarily. Instead picture books, as exploratory, creative, often dreamlike works asking questions about self-identity and learning one's place in the world, are naturally spaces for queer exploration and self-expression. I'm paraphrasing from a text I read on audio and augmenting with my own reading*, but the TL;DR of this was:

Hey, go read more MWB. And thus I am!

And the thing about MWB as opposed to other picture book deep dives: MWB was not herself an illustrator; she has been enduringly popular; she left behind many unpublished manuscripts after an early death. As a result, there's rarely one true set of illustrations, and many of her books have been re-illustrated/re-released/re-edited, even, over the years, with some even more complicated origin stories (that'll come up in another set of reviews). Fascinating! Messy! And valuable insight into the relationship that art has on picture books, as I'll talk about below, in exceedingly long reviews for 30 page volumes.

As usual, my very very favorites are outside of the cut; but The Diggers, while not good, is fascinating.

* read: if I've mixed up any details, it's because oops, and because audio retention is for losers & I already returned the book.


( Home for a Bunny )


Title: The Dead Bird
Author: Margaret Wise Brown
Illustrator: Remy Charlip (1958), Christian Robinson (2016)
Published: Harper & Row, 1965; Harper, 2016
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 40, 30
Total Page Count: 506,990
Text Number: 1807-8
Read Because: reading Margaret Wise Brown, borrowed from Open Library
Review: Don't touch dead birds; k cool glad we got that out of the way.

This is phenomenal. The illustrations are kind of whatever for me - Charlip uses a limited (personally unappealing) (I hate blue-greens) color palette and soft, rounded shapes; Robinson's work is more vibrant and the children more diverse. Of the two, I prefer Charlip, in part because the more subdued palette reflects the somber tone, but mostly for the use of negative space: illustrations and text are on alternating spreads, which gives the text an incredible amount of contemplative space. And so in Carlip this is a spread:

"The children were very sorry that the bird was dead and could never fly again. But they were glad they had found it, because now they could dig a grave in the woods and bury it. They could have a funeral and sing to it the way grown-up people did when someone died.

So they took it out to the woods.

And in Robinson, this is three pages of low contrast text over vibrant images.

And the text should have that weight. This is a quiet, honest book about the profound imperfection of grief - grief as celebratory, performative, experimental, as a preparation for later life experiences; grief as profound, communal, healing; grief as material act; grief as "And every day, until they forgot, they went and sang to their little dead bird and put fresh flowers on his grave." It's not didactic but rather reflective, and the space it gives to imperfection really struck me.

When I feel compelled to write more about a picture book than there are words in the picture book, I know I'm going to remember it.


( Little Fur Family )


( The Diggers (two editions) )


Title: Two Little Trains
Author: Margaret Wise Brown
Illustrator: Jean Charlot (1949), Leon and Diane Dillon (2001)
Published: William R. Scott, 1949; HarperCollins, 2001
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30, 30
Total Page Count: 507,210
Text Number: 1814-5
Read Because: reading Margaret Wise Brown, borrowed from Open Library
Review: The picture book deep dives I've done in the past (Gorey, Sendak, among others) have largely been by author/illustrators, so rarely have I encountered alternate versions of the same text. Reading MWB has taught me how illustrations change a picture book, not just the aesthetic but the tone, emphasis, even interpretation.

Two trains puff puff puff, chug chug chug, to the west. The Dillon frames one as real train and one as a toy, which is a classic real/play parallel that invites the child reader to imagine a stair rail as a mountain. And, as it's Dillon, the art is unsurprisingly solid.

But the (original 1949) Charlot is a different beast entire, a dreamscape of two trains rendered in flat pale colors and loose, fluid lines, the child-conductors napping under a gilded moon and amidst animal cargo on a long, surreal journey west, west, west. Rather than parallelism, repetition, but the use of negative space and direct address in the text ("Look down, look down that long steel track / Where you and I must go") invite the reader aboard.

The Charlot is less concrete and more open, impressionistic, fantastical even, and I'm crazy about it; and, also, by the juxtaposition, because while the Charlot is objectively better, the text taken in two such different directions is insightful and thought-provoking. And there's yet a third (Pizzoli) that I haven't read, and who know how it alters the text.

Title: Mystery of the Witches' Bridge aka The Witch's Bridge
Author: Barbee Oliver Carleton
Published: Scholastic, 1967
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 305
Total Page Count: 498,360
Text Number: 1775
Read Because: reviewed by rachelmanija, borrowed from Open Library
Review: An orphaned boy is taken in by his closest living relative, his reclusive uncle, who carries the burden of a local feud that began with a witch trial. This is a fascinating little book. The actual plot is an adequate if unremarkable classic MG adventure story: family secrets, local feuds, a hammy antagonist, and a wealth of tortured miscommunication made bearable by a quiet internal focus which centers the protagonist's frustrated need for friendship and family.

But, line by line, the writing is phenomenal. The setting is ridiculously evocative -

With each step the island, solid and safe, fell behind. The salt marsh gradually became the whole world, half land, half sea, wide and bright and windswept, and threatening.

- and that tone often touches the character work, especially in the darker, moodier sections:

Dan's mind rocked. His uncle believed! In spite of what he had said about superstition, his uncle believed in the witch's curse! The floor beneath Dan's feet became suddenly like the marsh, unsure, tremulous.

It's a pleasure to read, and elevates an otherwise-okay book to something special. The bulk of the reviews of this are from readers who imprinted on this as children, and I can see why it left that mark.


Title: The Ten Thousand Doors of January
Author: Alix E. Harrow
Published: Redhook, 2019
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 385
Total Page Count: 498,755
Text Number: 1776
Read Because: reviewed by mrissa, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: The ward of a wealthy collector opens an improbable doorway and begins a journey of discovery into her own past and into portal worlds. I found this mildly annoying and justifying that feels like nitpicking, and probably is, because my prior exposure to Harrow was "A Witch's Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies," which I kind of hated, so I was predisposed to be a grump. But there's legitimate things to be grumpy about!

Same-voice plagues the inset narratives. The writing and themes are twee, and I say this as someone who loves both books-within-books and meta portal fantasy: it's a lot of self-congratulatory rhapsodizing on the power of stories, doctored up with language that tries hard to be poetic but mostly lands on forced. The handling of race, privilege, and social change has a similar vibe: patently well-intended but very talky and not especially nuanced. The antagonist and romances combined overshadow the exploration of portals. It's not bad. It's fine. But I'm a sucker for what this is trying to do, I should have loved it, but mostly I see missed potential.


Title: Goddess of Filth
Author: V. Castro
Narrator: Stacy Gonzalez
Published: Tantor Audio, 2022 (2021)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 155
Total Page Count: 498,910
Text Number: 1777
Read Because: personal enjoyment, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Inverting the usual possession narrative, a group of high school grads summon an indigenous female spirit who brings violent transformation to one of their number. The audio narration of this is bad, injecting an overacted quality that amplifies the clumsy elements of the writing. I would have liked this more in print. Irreverent, honest, on-the-nose but still doing interesting things particularly in the intersections of race/colonialism with pop feminism. It's not subtle, and the revenge fantasy elements and antagonist veer towards hot mess. But it's fun, and the dirtier moments of female sexual empowerment and the more restrained elements in the evolving dynamic between possessor/possessed are engaging.

Title: The Hollow Places
Author: T. Kingfisher (aka Ursula Vernon)
Published: Gallery / Saga Press, 2020
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 360
Total Page Count: 373,725
Text Number: 1375
Read Because: fan of the previous book in the "series," ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: While working at her uncle's bizarre local museum, a woman finds something even stranger: a hole in the wall which opens to a bunker which opens to a river dotted by doors and surrounded by willows. This has the DNA of and the lessons learned from The Twisted Ones, to which it's an indirect sequel: an irreverent, relatable protagonist stumbles into a horror plot, but where the previous book has a delightfully terrifying concept which is derailed by an action-heavy plot, this is a slower burn and a longer one. Its hook is fine, but the real pleasure is the sustained, multifaceted exploration of the world and its implications—a little like a thriller, a little like a mystery, surprisingly speculative, but wisely offering hypotheses rather than concrete answers; it's less scary than The Twisted Ones, but has that good weird fiction vibe. The ending sequence still gets a little silly, and there's irreverent-relatable-protagonist moments that don't land well (the references to fandom shipping wars already feel dated)—so, not a perfect book. But I wanted highly engaging horror & I sure did read some highly engaging horror.


Title: Animal Land: Where there are no People
Author: Sybil Corbet
Illustrator: Katherine Corbet
Published: J.M. Dent & Co., 1897
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 50
Total Page Count: 373,825
Text Number: 1377
Read Because: saw it come up on Tumblr, read via George A. Smathers Libraries (University of Florida)
Review: Animals conceived by a little girl as illustrated by her mother, and if the premise of wiggly monsters with weird names and abrupt nonsense captions seems like it might be delightful then, good news!, this is. It's whimsical in the sense of pure and sincere childhood nonsense; the art is delightfully bizarre and the captions are even better; there's an extensive but equally nonsense/sincere introduction by Andrew Lang.

And eminently relatable: "The Burkan: A nasty biting Thing. Theres none more about it"


Title: Knights of Sidonia vols 1-8
Author: Tsutomu Nihei
Published: Vertical, 2013-2014 (2009-2012)
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 1500 (192+192+184+184+184+184+176+200)
Total Page Count: 375,325
Text Number: 1378-85
Read Because: fan of the anime, paperbacks borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: In the distant future, a savant mech pilot is pulled from obscurity to save a generation ship in its war against a massive, consuming alien force. DNF at volume 8 of 15, which I did not expect. I love the anime! But it's a pretty faithful adaptation with the added benefit of significantly more legible action sequences (Nihei is good at sense of scale and abysmal at action), and the slapstick and fanservice feel more obnoxious in the manga. I'm not sure if this is because they're given more space or just that I'm overlooking them in my memories of the anime; but, however thematically appropriate they are for the specific wish-fulfilment/butt-monkey role of the protagonist, it doesn't suit the tone and doesn't make them less annoying. So I'll stick with my fond memories of the anime, but I can't be bothered to finish the manga despite that I was hoping to gain insight from details which were changed/omitted in adaptation.

Title: Tamsin
Author: Peter S. Beagle
Published: ROC, 1999
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 310
Total Page Count: 370,105
Text Number: 1359
Read Because: fan of the author, borrowed from OpenLibrary
Review: When her mother remarries, a 13-year-old girl moves from Manhattan to a derelict English farm haunted by a young woman from the Bloody Assizes. This is a hidden gem from Beagle and it reminds me a lot of Dianna Wynne Jones. The protagonist writes as a young adult reflecting back on her adolescence, cringing at herself but so honest about the fundamental unfairness of being a teenage girl; it's a ridiculously immersive and authentic PoV. The setting is rich in domestic detail, and the depiction of a cultural Jew in a mixed-faith family gave me such fellow-feeling.* And then it grows exuberant with British history and folklore, the protagonist madly in love with her flickering, striking young ghost, the Wild Hunt screaming through the sky.

It's not a perfect book, and there are moments when the craft is too transparent, particularly in the tension-building but more unfortunately in the emotional resolution; occasionally it tries to force a lucent emotional resonance more suited for The Last Unicorn rather than being content with the humble, sympathetic emotions of its native scope. But it's incredible fun, likeable and magical and gleefully open to queer readings. This book has been on my TBR for an age, and I love how it feels to finally get to a book and find it totally worth the wait.


* Here's the bit that made me cry twice, first when reading it late at night, again when reading it aloud to my partner.

( Julian wanted to know how the menorah worked... )

Well yes, I am catching up on spooky-season reviews, however did you notice.


Title: Goth
Author: Otsuichi
Illustrator: Kenji Oiwa
Published: TokyoPop, 2000 (2003)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 220
Total Page Count: 347,520
Text Number: 1256
Read Because: reread ad infinitum
Review: Two strange high school students meet over their shared fascination with a local murderer. This is a successful adaptation of one of my most favorite narratives, and an effective introduction to same (once upon a time, it was mine). The manga trims supporting elements and condenses some of the plots to focus on the protagonist's feelings towards Morino (and the art doubles down, making the viewer participate in the view of Morino as potential victim). It simplifies and exaggerates but, as a result, intensifies, a focused study of one of the most engaging elements. The art is clean, almost cold, affect-less portraits set against natural details and moments of stunning, detailed gore.


Title: The Werewolf of Paris
Author: Guy Endore
Published: 1933
Rating: 3.5 of 5
Page Count: 265
Total Page Count: 347,785
Text Number: 1257
Read Because: werewolves!
Review: Homo homini lupus, indeed. This begins as a black humor buildingsroman following a boy whose fevered dreams may mean he is in fact becoming a murderous wolf, then expands into something larger and more bitter, a contemplation of humanity's persistent awfulness in the form of war. The werewolf is simultaneously emblematic and inconsequential: man is a wolf to man, and against that can one wolfman's dozen murders truly matter? It's a great thesis--which doesn't really improve the text's weaker elements, like the concept of inherited evil/nature vs. nurture, a touchy subject unsatisfactorily explored, or the fact that the intricacies of the Franco-Prussian war don't make for great reading; but these flaws are balanced by unexpectedly powerful, id-grabbing elements, particularly insights into the werewolf's self-concept and his intense, violent romance. A fascinating read, especially for werewolf fanatics, although its takeaways on the trope now feel a little on the nose.

There was something compelling in his eyes. Something of that strange compulsion of an abyss. That invitation of the void, of great heights: Come, cast yourself down. Just let yourself go. How do you know it isn't sweeter than anything you have ever imagined or experienced in life? Why do you fear? Why do you fear what you do not know as yet? Come! Come!

Oh! the opium-sweet attraction of death!

(Guy Endore was Jewish! Which is a fact I not-infrequently stumble upon now that I'm tracking more author demographics.)


Title: Fist of the Spider Woman: Tales of Fear and Queer Desire
Editor: Amber Dawn
Published: Arsenal Pulp Press, 2009
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 190
Total Page Count: 347,975
Text Number: 1258
Read Because: appears on numerous spooky queer recommendations lists, ebook borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Erotic horror by, for, and focusing on queer women is a phenomenal concept. It inspires/collects pieces which are carnal and strange--like the opening story, Milks' "Slug," which commits entirely to its title; like the editor's penultimate "Here Lies the Last Lesbian Rental in East Vancouver," with a rich queer history and remarkable central tableau. (Other particular favorites: Evans' "In Circles" has a dynamic which speaks directly to my id; Barnes's "Shark" has a convincing sense of place and home. Also Lamm's "Conspiracy of Fuckers" and Bach's "All You Can Be.") Boundaries like erotic/terrifying, fetish/fear, and consent are fluid and broken. The existence of the anthology in itself is invigorating, captivating, and bumps up my rating. But as in all anthologies, quality varies, and this particular theme and selection of indie authors exacerbates that. The tone can err didactic and bingo-y; all the poetry was a miss for me, and some pieces are on-theme but in hammy or unremarkable ways.

These bind-ups still aren't as ideal a reading experience as individually printed books, and I'm sad that some of my favorites—particularly The Nursery Frieze—have never been reprinted as standalone volumes, because I'd love to own them.

But that Gorey self-published these slight little books & thus afforded himself room for creativity and experimentation and his distinctive niche grim humor, and that we nonetheless retain easy access to them despite the rarity/cost of first editions, and that reading his work in collection encourages a deep-dive into his work, his themes, how books interact with one another—all of these things are gifts. I wish that the collections were strictly chronological because it would help build that knowledge of his body of work, but honestly the arrangements are fine.

As usual, my most favorites/the most remarkable are outside the cut.


Title: The Beastly Baby
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1962)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,710
Text Number: 1213
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: This opens the Amphigorey Too collection, and it's the best way to dive back into Gorey. Gorey sometimes punches down, and he certainly leans into ableist tropes here; but this is so wholeheartedly off-color that it can't but be delightful. The thwarted baby-imperilments are fantastic, and have a well-rounded, giddy spite.


Title: The Nursery Frieze
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1964)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,740
Text Number: 1214
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: almost wish this were in alphabetical order, to better sell the conceit and because it if were it would perfectly mimic the "list unusual or tasty words" game that I play to soothe myself to sleep. But I'm still giving this five stars, as it's one of those Goreys I'd like to own and reread ad infinitum. The words selected are often so peculiar as to feel invented; the vaguely-unsettled beasts blob along in deceptive repetition; it throws a banal premise delightfully off-kilter, and I adore it.

1) This blurb/writeup from Dan Koster is so good, particularly "By putting the words in speech bubbles, Gorey encourages the reader to pronounce the words aloud or silently too themselves, savoring their strange syllables."

2) Comments here suggest the beast are capybara; I enjoy and agree.

3) The words are so good, so—as above—fun to say, and I legit thought half of them were invented. Words preserved below, although it's only half-realized without the illustrations. This post contains definitions.

( Archipelago, cardamon, oblouiquy... )

4) Some words are capitalized, for reasons I can't figure (although a few are proper nouns)—probably because they're more pleasing that way.(There's no hidden code in the capitalization and/or letters in the landscape, near as I can find, because I did look.)


( The Pious Infant )


Title: The Evil Garden
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1966)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,770
Text Number: 1215
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: The art here is sparser than Gorey's usual, with thin illustrations on white progressing to inky black panels. The structure and tone is familiar, a vaguely-period banality meeting the bizarre and morbid. It's not-unpleasantly samey—samey, that is, within in the context of Gorey, who is a reliable delight. And sometimes what makes a particular Gorey work is just that it appeals to one's personal aesthetic, and I sure am a sucker for an overgrown and weirdly malicious garden.


( The Inanimate Tragedy )


( The Gilded Bat )


Title: The Iron Tonic: Or, A Winter Afternoon in Lonely Valley
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1969)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 35
Total Page Count: 341,950
Text Number: 1220
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: The exaggerated horizontal panels lean into the atmosphere of stretching, inexorable loneliness; Gorey's uniquely pointless titles (titles which, in such a short piece, carry a lot of weight) create an appropriate sense of anticlimax. It's an effective, atmospheric little package: lonely, wintery, absurd, quaint—very Gorey, but the particular setting and stylistic experiments, like the inset circular vignettes, make it stand out within his work.


( The Chinese Obelisks )


Title: The Deranged Cousins
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 342,860
Text Number: 1225
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: I'm trash for a The Secret History-esque "insular group of ne'er-do-wells destroyed from within by their own bombastic flaws" premise and Gorey's take on it a delight: the off-kilter, detailed inkwork sells the decrepit atmosphere; the indulgent melancholy is balanced by Gorey's ever-ready wry humor; it's theatric and critical, romantic and tragic, and profoundly silly. Insofar as Gorey's consistent, distinctive style means that specific works stand out just because their gimmicks appeal to the individual reader, this one could have been written just for me & I appreciate the gift.


Title: The Eleventh Episode
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 342,860
Text Number: 1225
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review:I prefer it when Gorey's series of unfortunate events have a tight focus, as this does—it grounds, or at least contains, the nonsense elements and nails the tragic:comic balance. This has a lovely gothic atmosphere, pleasantly melancholic and sometimes dreamlike, and one of my favorite endings: "'Life is distracting and uncertain,' she said and went to draw the curtain"—pointless and profound.


( The Untitled Book )


( The Lavender Leotard; or, Going a Lot to the New York City Ballet )


Title: The Disrespectful Summons
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 15
Total Page Count: 342,920
Text Number: 1228
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Gorey does Lolly Willowes: a sudden dance with the devil means a woman has no choice but to curdle milk and read from Ninety-two Entirely Evil Things to Do before she's swept away to hell. The period-appropriate caricature of feminine respectability applied to witch clichés falls squarely within Gorey's stylistic wheelhouse and has an understated feminist vibe—without the autonomy of, again, Lolly Willowes, but Gorey's take on "well, I suppose I have to be evil now" is deceptively bland and enviously fun. Delightful; I want to read Ninety-two Entirely Evil Things to Do; this isn't perfect, but it's one of my favorite Goreys.


( The Abandoned Sock )


( The Lost Lions )


Title: Story for Sara: What Happened to a Little Girl
Author: Edward Gorey, Alphone Allais
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 30 [I'm guessing, can't find details on original publication & have since returned by reprint and can't count panels]
Total Page Count: 343,010
Text Number: 1231
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Apparently a translation and illustration of a poem by Alphonse Allais, who I've never read. But it's a natural fit for Gorey, who does great work both with apparently-imperiled-but-actually-evil children and with series of unfortunate event narratives, and this combines both to fun effect. Delightfully vicious, with a sweet zinger.


Title: Salt Herring
Author: Edward Gorey, Charles Cros, Alphonse Allais
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 50
Total Page Count: 343,060
Text Number: 1232
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Credited to Charlos Cros and Alphonse Allais, this piece has a storied history. Regardless, it's a natural fit to Gorey. Some of his work is so simple as to feel slight; this takes that and points it, a nonsense work for the sake of nonsense, with appropriately off-kilter panels that rotate orientation halfway through. Delightful!


Title: Leaves from a Mislaid Album
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1972)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: ~20, guessing again
Total Page Count: 343,080
Text Number: 1233
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Like The West Wing, this is a wordless work given context only by the title. The West Wing is better—its mysterious interiors invite investigation, so their haunting atmosphere really lingers. These are portraits, and perforce more explicable; the atmosphere is instead tropey and ominous, with shadow-faced figures and eyelines leading out of frame. But the overall effect is successful, especially in collection with other Gorey—his works are short, so every word matters; and in their absence, every detail of the inkwork is precious. (Also, the Doubtful Guest is there!)


( A Limerick )