On a June day too dank for the beach, a three-generation carload of Goreyphiles—fans of the American author, illustrator, and oddball genius Edward Gorey—pulled into a small parking lot in Yarmouth Port, Massachusetts.
The Edward Gorey House, a sea captain’s home the artist bought in 1979, is now a museum that welcomes visitors from April to December each year.
Paula Span, with daughter and granddaughter in tow, visits The Edward Gorey House.
Or visitors can do what we did, especially with children in tow, and go on a Gashlycrumb Tinies scavenger hunt. There’s a modest prize for locating all 26 deceased kids.
It’s easy enough to spot George underfoot, or “A is for Amy who fell down the stairs,” because look! there’s a toppled doll on the staircase. But good luck with “N is for Neville who died of ennui.”
For those so unfortunate as to never experience Gorey literature there are
four collections of previously published works, all highly recommended.
While the charm of the original design of the small individual books is lost,
the genius of Edward Gorey is not the least bit diminished in these anthologies.