So It was really about eight or nine years ago that I became interested in graphic novels after a Spanish friend of mine gave me an anthology of work by Edward Gorey which I just loved. These morose little stories by Gorey usually a line of rhyming prose for each caption are just fabulous. There is the Edwardian sense of an inbred Uber class of dark neuroses beautifully executed in a multitude if textured compositions. Apparently Gorey would only use one type of very fine felt tip pen which he would buy in bulk to ensure that he would never run out.
It’s a real joy to browse through his works and to become enveloped in the manner and craftsmanship of his hatching and texture driven compositions. The first Image above of the kid slipping under the carpet (an innocent act) seems all the more treacherous since the texture of the carpet resembles the water’s edge.
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