reading an epitaph
I finally got around to reading "Amphigorey Again", the fourth and final collection of Edward Gorey's work. I'd gotten it for Christmas and I just haven't had a chance to sit down and read it; I'd seen some of the late-period work on its own and been a little worried at the clear indications of his hand failing him. I sort of didn't want to open it up and find out how much age really claimed one of my idols' skills. Deciding to turn to Gorey for inspiration when I need to draw a gazebo for work finally made me do more than glance at it.
Some pieces are minor. Some are wonderful.
The last, unfinished book presented in the collection is... exactly the right thing for him to be finished with. How many times did Gorey use the structure of the abecdeclarium during his career? Over and over again. A to Z. The last change on his favorite form, slated to close out his final collection. I don't think it's any kind of coincidence - "The Izzard Book" is his own epitaph.
Gorey taught me how to tell a story before and after the picture. In Scott McCloud's books on comics theory, he dedicates a chapter or three to the concept of "closure": the reader's mind fills in what happens between the panels, completing the action. Gorey's work is a masterclass in this: nothing ever "happens" in any of his drawings. The moments another artist might choose as "exciting" are never drawn.
The statue is just beginning to fall.
The rich uncle is just beginning to crumple under the impact of the falling cornice.
The huge bird is barely entering the panel, about to fly into the plane's propeller.
The mutilated skin of a lost toy is found by the lake.
The text beneath hints at what happened.
The drawings fade, leaving only the enigmatic words. One last Z. One last anagrammatic byline.
Thank you for everything, Mr. Gorey. For all your lines, the thing you taught me the most about was the empty spaces between them.
Some pieces are minor. Some are wonderful.
The last, unfinished book presented in the collection is... exactly the right thing for him to be finished with. How many times did Gorey use the structure of the abecdeclarium during his career? Over and over again. A to Z. The last change on his favorite form, slated to close out his final collection. I don't think it's any kind of coincidence - "The Izzard Book" is his own epitaph.
Gorey taught me how to tell a story before and after the picture. In Scott McCloud's books on comics theory, he dedicates a chapter or three to the concept of "closure": the reader's mind fills in what happens between the panels, completing the action. Gorey's work is a masterclass in this: nothing ever "happens" in any of his drawings. The moments another artist might choose as "exciting" are never drawn.
The statue is just beginning to fall.
The rich uncle is just beginning to crumple under the impact of the falling cornice.
The huge bird is barely entering the panel, about to fly into the plane's propeller.
The mutilated skin of a lost toy is found by the lake.
The text beneath hints at what happened.
The drawings fade, leaving only the enigmatic words. One last Z. One last anagrammatic byline.
Thank you for everything, Mr. Gorey. For all your lines, the thing you taught me the most about was the empty spaces between them.