A is for Amy who fell down the stairs...

B is for Basil assaulted by bears



C is for Clara who wasted away



D is for Desmond Thrown out of a sleigh



sigh...



Such is the joy of Edward Gorey's Gashly Crumb Tinies. Gashly is basically an anglophile version of the Grim Reaper, replete with top hat, white gloves, a gentleman's coat, and a lovely umbrella. And what a funny quirk! He likes to murder small children. I should send Joel Steinberg a copy. My searches on amazon lead me back to peruse its pages. I had a poster version of the "tinies" about 10 years ago.



Back then, on West 8th Street, a wonderful place called PosterMat sold all kinds of eclectic wall-hangings. This was just one gem I found back in May 1994. I nearly fell over in the aisle looking at this thing, so I ponied up my $6.50 and waltzed happily out of the store. It took a prominent place on my bedroom wall, but the corners curled to the point where I had to discard it when I went from the hell of the 6th floor to the prison of the 2nd floor.



PosterMat is now an army surplus shop, awash in a sea of brown, green, and various camouflages. ICK, I say. Bring me back something I can frame, dammit!



Edward Gorey was one of my favorite illustrators. He came to my attention by way of T.S. Elliot's Book of Practical Cats that later became one of his signature pieces in 1979. That year, he also designed the set for Dracula on Broadway starring Frank Langella. I'd say Gorey, Klibban (remember those cats?), and Jim Davis (of Garfield fame) were the ones I looked for. Come Christmas every year, mom and dad had something to look for, and they did not disappoint! I have stacks of all their work, all three of them, still on my bookshelf.



My most recent gift of Gorey was a few years back--I gave Amy "Thrillin'" Rilling a copy of Gashly when she actually did fall down a flight of stairs. She opened up the book and busted out laughing.



I think my next gift will be to Andrew and his wife: "The Epileptic Bicycle." Both of you can read this aloud while fighting for who gets to the bathroom first should you piss your pants, because oh you will!



As for me, N is for Neville who died of ennui. Oh, Neville, I'm coming to join you...