adult nonfiction; correspondence and illustrations. Notes to self: (1)write more, wittier letters (though not necessarily as rambling as EG's--unless you qualify as an eccentric-artist type, which I don't) and (2) get myself some acrylic paints and inks so I can make lovely water-resistant (postal service-proof) drawings like these. ( )

Such a wonderful, intimate look into the artist who was Edward Gorey.... I was entranced, enchanted. Thank you,[a:Peter Neumeyer|4748212|peter Neumeyer|http://www.goodreads.com/assets/nophoto/nophoto-U-50x66.jpg], for allowing this glimpse into a special friendship. ( )

This is a beautiful volume, full of charm, playfulness and wit (as you would expect from these two). It added a lot to my understanding of Edward Gorey, who cultivated so much mystery about his life. This is a great book to dip in and out of, and does not require (or, for me, reward) sustained reading at one time. ( )

I hadn’t progressed too far into ‘Floating Worlds’ before the thought struck me that it will represent something of a disappointment for some Gorey fans. Not least because it presents the artist and author behind some of the most sinister tales of the 20th century as, by turns, whimsical, warm hearted and generous.

In recent years his desolate Gothic vision has seeped into the fringes of popular culture just as, to use a suitably Gorey-esque metaphor, a long undiscovered body might seep into a mattress. I seem to find myself spotting his influence at every turn these days. It runs rich in the artwork of children’s illustrator David Roberts (particularly in his ‘Tales of Terror’ series), through the more adult oriented comics of Tom Gauld and across the entire cannon of Tim Burton’s work, nowhere more so than in his collection of brief, dark tales, ‘The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy’. What’s more, if you wish to see Gorey’s singular vision made flesh you could do worse than seek out the video for Nine Inch Nails’ ‘The Perfect Drug’, for which director Mark Romanek admittedly pillaged the Gorey archive. But whilst they may see echoes of his work everywhere, fans of Gorey’s dark, singular creations found themselves struck by a lack of source material about the man himself. Gorey was far from a gregarious self-publicist and interviews, though they were granted, were few and far between.

Up until now the most complete source available to the Gorey faithful was, neighbour of Gorey, Alexander Theroux’s slim “The Strange Case of Edward Gorey” volume, offering a biographical account of his varied career as an artist and writer as well as his time in the theatre (where he won a Tony award for his costume design in Frank Langella’s 1977 Broadway production of ‘Dracula’) but little in the way of what makes the man tick. Neumeyer’s book, a collection of correspondence between himself and Gorey over their 13 month period of collaboration (leading to the production of 3 books) between 1968 & 1969 not only provides many insights but also images of the illustrated letters and envelopes he received, many of which Gorey fans would (surely in an appropriately ghastly way) kill for.

Gorey and Neumeyer’s friendship is a delight to observe and serves as an excellent way to get under Gorey’s skin. His letters are gleefully eccentric creations and read like head scratching daydreams splashed directly from brain to page, revealing his varying appetites for literature, art, Zen gardening and pancakes. Most of these letters display a humble, apologetic and almost deferential tone, never wishing to offend and nearly always doubling back on themselves as if to see off any potential cause of upset. Neumeyer ends up being very much the straight man for Gorey’s meandering, conversational efforts, which flit from subject to subject with a spritely energy. For a Gorey obsessive like myself they are like so much cake thrust toward a greedy, capacious boy.

Sadly the correspondence eventually ebbs away to a few succinct efforts with Gorey struggling under a sea of other work and a lurking disappointment at unpublished Gorey/Neumeyer volumes before dropping off entirely. Whilst this must have been a tough thing to cope with at the time it appears that Neumeyer regards their brief period of contact and collaboration to have been a great joy and a privilege. Having reached the end of this collection I can only add that reading about it was too. ( )

It’s a blessing that Pomegranate has begun to publish Edward Gorey books and related curios, as they’ve produced such handsome editions of works by one of my favorite illustrators. Now they’ve published Floating Words, the correspondences between Gorey and author Peter F. Neumeyer (who also edited this collection) as they collaborated on three books, Donald and the…, Donald has a Difficulty, and Why We Have Day and Night.

This work is not only a great find for Gorey fans, but also for those interested in how the creative process works. The letters capture Neumeyer and Gorey’s personalities and friendship as they collaborated and commiserated. Sadly their correspondence ended after about 13 months, as the two men became engrossed in other projects, but during this short time they wrote often and they wrote lengthily. This collection is also an elegy for the lost art and necessity of letter-writing.

A great bonus of this book is that they are constantly talking about and recommending books to each other, so any bibliophile will be sure to find some crackling rarities from these two eclectic men. Keep a notepad and pen handy as you read! The book also features some of Gorey’s fantastic and unique drawings, including layouts and sketches for the Donald books. There is also the delightful “STOEJGNPF,” a delightful amphibian-tapir-dog amalgam that Gorey drew on his envelopes.

This is a charming find, especially for those who wanted to know more about the inner workings of the enigmatic Edward Gory, or simply for people interested in an account of inspiration and collaboration. ( )