Edward Gorey's Nursery Frieze takes the form of just that: if the pages were cut out of their binding and taped end to end, they would form a thin strip of wallpaper long enough to circle the walls beneath the ceiling of a room, ostensibly a nursery. The twist is that the words depicted in the frieze are as far from the typical ABCs as possible; they are rare and unusual words, chosen equally for their rarity as for the delicious way in which they roll off the tongue. By putting the words in speech bubbles, Gorey encourages the reader to pronounce the words aloud or silently too themselves, savoring their strange syllables. Seen another way, however, the assembled frieze bears obvious resemblance to the motion-photography studies of Eadweard Muybridge. Viewed as such, it becomes apparent that this is not a series of hippopotamus-like creatures serenely marching in a line, but rather one creature galloping in an endless loop, gasping out a word in each "frame" of the motion picture. One can only imagine the effect(s) this frieze might have on a child who grew up staring at it from their crib.
Born in Chicago, Gorey came from a colourful family; his parents, Helen Dunham Garvey and Edward Lee Gorey, divorced in 1936 when he was 11, then remarried in 1952 when he was 27. One of his step-mothers was Corinna Mura, a cabaret singer who had a brief role in the classic film Casablanca. His father was briefly a journalist. Gorey's maternal great-grandmother, Helen St. John Garvey, was a popular 19th century greeting card writer/artist, from whom he claimed to have inherited his talents. He attended a variety of local grade schools and then the Francis W. Parker School. He spent 1944–1946 in the Army at Dugway Proving Ground in Utah, and then attended Harvard University from 1946 to 1950, where he studied French and roomed with future poet Frank O'Hara.
Although he would frequently state that his formal art training was "negligible", Gorey studied art for one semester at The School of The Art Institute of Chicago in 1943, eventually becoming a professional illustrator. From 1953 to 1960, he lived in New York City and worked for the Art Department of Doubleday Anchor, illustrating book covers and in some cases adding illustrations to the text. He has illustrated works as diverse as Dracula by Bram Stoker, The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells, and Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T. S. Eliot. In later years he illustrated many children's books by John Bellairs, as well as books in several series begun by Bellairs and continued by other authors after his death.
An interesting little ditty. This is not a story, but is a collection of words, very odd and strange words one must look up in the dictionary. There is a warthog running over and over saying all these words like one might see in a nursery.
I do love words, so there were some great ones to look up like: obloquy, Ignavia, sphagnum, quincunx, Jequirity, Febrifuge, Maremma, gegenschein, quodlibet, thurible, Sparadrap. There are many more I needed to look up, but I love words and it’s fun seeing these new things. I wonder if I am able to drop one of these in a review or two. Honestly, I don’t have the time as school is going again. It would be fun.
It is a simple concept: rare words such as one would never see decorating a nursery or classroom, illustrated with capybaras. I adore it and I want to have it actually encircling a room. I don't know how hard it would be to get a custom-printed wallpaper border. It might be easier to pick a room, measure the circumference, and scale it to fit. No doubt there's someone on the internet with a tutorial for turning something into a mural. And a converter to give me scale.
I read this collected in Amphigorey Too. It's not a book, and scarecely a story, but as a nursery frieze, it would be fun for the right child/family. I recognized 3/4 of the words and knew the meaning for about 45%, and can see how this might lead to fun conversations about language and meaning. Nonetheless, without a narrative or characters, it's not the most scintillating read.
(Note: I'm a writer, so I suffer when I offer fewer than five stars. But these aren't ratings of quality, they're a subjective account of how much I liked the book: 5* = an unalloyed pleasure from start to finish, 4* = enjoyed it, 3* = readable but not thrilling, 2* = disappointing, and 1* = hated it.)
I almost wish this were in alphabetical order, to better sell the conceit and because it if were it would perfectly mimic the "list unusual or tasty words" game that I play to soothe myself to sleep. But I'm still giving this five stars, as it's one of those Goreys I'd like to own and reread ad infinitum. The words selected are often so peculiar as to feel invented; the vaguely-unsettled beasts blob along in deceptive repetition; it throws a banal premise delightfully off-kilter, and I adore it.
I am sorely tempted to put this up in my own home. With its wide range of complexity, it would make a great conversation starter as to the meaning and sounds of words--for young and old alike!