Born to Be Posthumous

September 15, 2018
A well-considered biography of Edward Gorey (1925-2000).Cultural critic Dery (I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts: Drive-By Essays on American Dread, American Dreams, 2012, etc.) constructs a nimble framework to fully appreciate the gothic artist and designer's contributions to high art and queer culture, developments that mirror the popularization of art and literature after World War II as well as the campy "hiding-in-plain-sight" nature of the pre-Stonewall gay experience. The author probes his subject's close, unconsummated relationships with school friends, an Army librarian during the war, and, later, picture-book collaborator Peter Neumeyer to prove no exception to Gorey's official line that he was "reasonably undersexed or something." Comparisons to Edwardian throwback novelists Ronald Firbank and Ivy Compton-Burnett place Gorey's macabre rightfully at the heights of aestheticism and the surrealist vanguard, only he aimed his "revolt through style" at the gloomy British past. Dery's puzzling subject, the son of a prominent Chicago publicist, shines brightest in the early years. He caught the art bug early in his youth, under private school teacher Malcolm Hackett, and he later jousted at Harvard with verse prodigies like John Ashbery and Gorey's freshman roommate, Frank O'Hara. Following a Cambridge connection with publisher Jason Epstein, Gorey settled in New York to illustrate a famous run of Anchor paperback covers. Soon after, he was designing his first books, darker than Dr. Seuss and as visionary as Maurice Sendak. When he became a "cottage industry" in the 1970s, through merchandise at Gotham Book Mart and his design of the smash-hit Dracula on Broadway, Gorey was able to transcend the pop culture he also actively consumed, discussing the X-Files with fans later in his Cape Cod retirement.The reclusive author and designer of such ghoulish gems as The Doubtful Guest and the animated introduction to the PBS series Mystery! comes fully alive, fur-coated and bejeweled, as an unlikely icon of the counterculture.

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October 1, 2018
Avant-garde writer and artist Edward Gorey comes across as almost odder, if less adventurous, than his characters in this atmospheric biography. Gorey, a native Chicagoan and an Anglophile, innovated by looking back to vintage British illustrations, stocking his drawings with bearded gentlemen, bustled ladies, flappers, and crepuscular mansions; his groundbreaking short picture books featured droll send-ups of Victorian melodrama, replete with dying children, bizarre creatures invading parlors, and dark figures haunting lonely landscapes. Culture critic Dery (Flame Wars) shrewdly plumbs Gorey’s work, which inspired goth fashions, Tim Burton movies, and Lemony Snicket’s children’s books. In his telling, Gorey’s personality is also a showy exterior with an enigmatic interior: Gorey sported a bristling beard, long fur coats, jewelry, and Wildean mannerisms; though he was prone to at times having “all-consuming crush” on men, he proclaimed himself asexual. Gorey’s uneventful, solitary life can be less than exciting, and the narrative sometimes bogs down in his collections and love of George Balanchine’s ballets. Fans will like the immersion in Gorey-ana, but others may feel that this colorful protagonist lacks a compelling plot. Photos. Andrew Stuart, Stuart Agency.

Starred review from October 15, 2018
So distinctive that his name has been adjectivized?Goreyesque?Edward Gorey (1925-2000) added a striking personal image and very definite tastes to unique drawing and writing styles to become a cultural icon. He strode the streets of Manhattan in full beard, ankle-length fur coat, and well-worn Keds, beringed and otherwise bejewelled, for decades, often en route to and from virtually every performance of the New York City Ballet under George Balanchine's direction (the choreographer was, Gorey said, sort of like God ). He collected cats (several, not multitudes), books (more than several), art (mostly graphic), and objets utiles (useful objects, such as glass insulators). This all figured in his art and best-loved creations, small illustrated books, whose usually verse texts were abecedaria and elliptical, inconclusive, rather morbid, and whose pictures showed stoic figures in period clothing from 1890-1925 in surroundings fraught with minuscule patterns in garments, decoration, and shading. Bearing titles like The Glorious Nosebleed (1974) and The Deranged Cousins (1971), they are sui generis although inspired, probably, by the surrealism of Magritte and the silent-film serials of Louis Feuillade (Fant�mas,1913-14; Les Vampires, 1915-16). Peculiar to a T, Gorey and his work are eccentric in the most congenial and appealing way, and cultural critic Dery gives them a book that matches them in ingratiation, fascination, and artfulness.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2018, American Library Association.)

November 1, 2018

In this biography, cultural critic Dery (Flame Wars;{amp}nbsp;Escape Velocity) portrays writer/artist Edward Gorey (1925{amp}ndash;2000) as convivial and chatty but also uninterested in allowing most people to get to know him. Dery doesn't go very far beyond Gorey's outer layer, nor does he seem to have a particularly deep or passionate knowledge of his subject's works, devoting many pages to his own opinions and those of other critics instead of Gorey himself. The author is also obsessed with the question of whether Gorey was gay or asexual or both. This question is never answered, and it's unclear whether it would tell us much about Gorey as an artist anyway. In general, nothing new or revelatory is presented for those already familiar with Gorey, though much-needed attention in the last few chapters is paid to his late-life work with puppetry and local theater on Cape Cod. VERDICT Gorey aficionados will inevitably want this book. Others will do better by starting with Ascending Peculiarity, a wonderful collection of Gorey interviews and profiles, edited by Karen Wilkin. [See Prepub Alert, 5/14/18.]{amp}mdash;Derek Sanderson, Mount Saint Mary Coll. Lib., Newburgh, NY

Copyright 2018 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

November 1, 2018

He had more than 20,000 books and six cats, wore full-length fur coats and a full-length Edwardian beard, and created delightfully creepy illustrations that graced over 100 books. Yes, it's the one and only Edward Gorey in a full-scale biography by cultural critic Dery. With a 30,000-copy first printing.

Copyright 2018 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.