Karen Wilkin

For six decades, since his first solo exhibition in 1950, the work of the Saskatchewan painter William Perehudoff has embodied the highest standards of aesthetic seriousness and excellence. His impressive reputation extends widely and he is celebrated not only in his native Prairie region, but also across Canada, and in the United States and Great Britain. This lavishly illustrated account of Perehudoff's career and the most comprehensive overview to date of the artist's early work in conjunction with his later abstract paintings.… (plus d'informations)

How Gory is Gorey?

The answer of course, depends entirely on you. How gory or bloody is your imagination? What's the worst your imagination can feed you? There's your answer. You see, Edward Gorey's work; full of dangerous death-dealing villains, scheming faultlessly in full Victorian garb and their helpless victims; includes a brief summation of the unfortunate events, but his actual work does not depict the actual event. He merely pokes and somewhat prods our imagination into the right direction-- how evil and dark the event becomes in the end is, quite entirely, up to you.

Being a longtime collector of Gorey's delightfully tenebrous work, it has often been a cause of much amusement for me over the years to hear the reasons why some viewers of his work find it to be "offensive" in nature. A particular incident comes to mind, so I will share it here with you. There were many remarks made like this from various co-workers about the Gashlycrumb Tinies images from the Edward Gorey calendar I had hanging up at my old job. When asked why they found it to be "offensive" in nature, they responded they thought the subject of Death and the children to be too violent.

I would respond to their statement with questions of my own regarding their interests. Did they ever watch the News, read the Newspaper headlines, watch TV in general, movies, or use the internet? Generally, they would answer in affirmative to one (if not all) of these activities. Did they derive any sort of entertainment from these programs? Were any of them amusing or beneficial at all in some part? Yes, they answered; mostly with a vaguely confused look on their faces. I would then point out my line of reasoning, which follows thus: Somehow, it was not so clear to them that watching or reading about Death and violence on TV, the movies or the Internet was in any way similar to the matter at hand...i.e. How could one be offended by Edward Gorey's ironic and charmingly droll stories-- which do not actually show the actual Death of any of the characters-- and NOT be offended by the very real descriptions, pictures and images which daily confront them in the Newspaper, on the Internet, the TV screen or in the movies? Something to think about, eh?

Although admittedly some of the topics of Gorey's stories can seem a bit disturbing at first glance (''A is for Amy who fell down the stairs, B is for Basil assaulted by Bears"), the more careful observer will perhaps find that they are merely "mildly unsettling", as Gorey himself put it in an interview. 'When asked if he ever thought about the effect of his work on his readers''. On page 26 of Elegant Enigmas, the author Karen Wilkin articulately goes on to describe the je ne sais quoi of the attraction, response and appreciation of Gorey-philes and his work,

"When Gorey's people venture outside, through their wrought-iron gates of their slightly creepy dwellings, they don enormous hats with veils and ankle-length fur coats...Cats and indescribable creatures behave like humans or lurk in corners. These... drawings are not simply illustrations but achieved works of art in their own right, extraordinarily various and unexpected in their imagery, and deeply evocative".

As both a friend of the late Mr. Gorey, who sadly passed away in 2000, and the author of Ascending Peculiarity: Edward Gorey On Edward Gorey, Karen Wilkin can indeed be considered a "Gorey Expert" as the inside book flap suggests. As both friend and critic, Wilkin peels away the subtle layers of the opulent and characteristically ambiguous catalog of works by Gorey, and even offers us a rare glimpse into the mind and workings of the man himself. His influences that drove his work (Louis Feuillarde's silent films, the choreography of George Balanchine), his reading habits and the books and objects he collected in his home ""The Elephant House"":obscure English novels, complete sets of obsolete children's series, tattered issues of Punch, studies of Asian ceramics, compendiums of party games, and a volume on napkin folding" (11); to the artists he admired most (Paul Klee, Rene Magritte, Odilon Redon and Balthus).

However, even with these treasured clues as to the associations and allusions that are made known to us through Wilkin's efforts, there will always be the mysteriously unreachable precipice where all the meanings lie... Just at the edge of your imagination, where all the "mildly unsettling" take place, naturally.

This book therefore, is not to be recommended to those who are "un-initiated" or not already familiar with Gorey's work. (Start with Amphigorey) This is for those readers whose literary and artistic palate already savours and delights in the dark but brilliantly wry flair of All Things Gorey. It will deepen your appreciation for the man, his work, and his gently decadent panache.

Definitely a book to be treasured, including some previously unpublished material.

4.5 stars out of 5.… (plus d'informations)