G is for Gorey who’s dreadful and magnificent

A pair of disembodied hands presents a cake adorned with candles through an open window. A nearby menu lists only one dish: cold boiled owl. A character looks anxiously at a stack of chocolate boxes. The caption reads: “The Horror of Having a Birthday.” 

This unusual illustration is one of several unpublished pieces by the late artist Edward Gorey ’50, currently showcased in a new exhibit at Houghton Library. 

“Edward Gorey: The Gloomy Gallery” whimsically engages with Gorey’s ominous yet strangely comforting imagination, reflecting its world-weary malaise and a whimsical acceptance of the absurd.

“Edward Gorey is an exceptionally unique figure, and we are delighted to commemorate him on the centennial of his birth,” stated Molly Schwartzburg, Philip Hofer Curator of Printing and Graphic Arts at Houghton Library, during an opening event on Sept. 4. 

The exhibition, which is complimentary and accessible to the public, commemorates Gorey’s 100th birthday and the 75th anniversary of his graduation from Harvard College. The artworks are sourced from the Houghton Library’s extensive collection concerning the artist and showcase his entire career. 

Notably, recently acquired pieces include the “Birthday” work, which Gorey gifted to Tony Smith, his Harvard classmate and roommate in Eliot House. These illustrations were later inherited by Smith’s daughter, Barbie Selby, who was present at the exhibition’s opening reception.

“Molly and Maggie did an excellent job integrating my dad’s art with published works,” Selby remarked, referencing Schwartzburg and co-curator Maggie Erwin, curatorial assistant in the printing and graphic arts division. “It has been enchanting.”

The newly acquired artworks provide insights into the artist’s experiences at Harvard. 

“These new drawings reflect his French literature classes, the experiences of WWII veterans at Harvard, architecture around Harvard Square, and a Gorey friendship outside the elite art circles that have been documented for so long,” Schwartzburg noted. “We can also see how early he crafted his distinctive aesthetic and flair for wordplay. Harvard appears to have been a remarkably inspiring place for him as a young artist.” 

Gorey famously shared living quarters with poet Frank O’Hara, but less is known about his bond with Smith, his roommate in their senior year.

The two were an unlikely duo. Smith was an alumnus of Phillips Exeter Academy and came from a wealthy Republican family from Fall River, Mass. He pursued economics and spent his professional life in the insurance sector. He resided in Raleigh, N.C., for five decades, as noted in his obituary.

Gorey, originally from Chicago, was perceived as something of an artistic oddball who was deeply involved in Harvard’s queer literary community. He would later relocate to New York and eventually settled on Cape Cod in the 1980s. He passed away there in 2000.

Both men were enlisted during WWII.

The two had a common friend and began spending time together during their junior year. Schwartzburg commented that not much is known about their relationship. They reportedly shared a passion for beachcombing and thrifting — Gorey’s biographer Mark Dery observed that the two made regular visits to Filene’s Basement.

Smith often appeared in Gorey’s artwork as a bewildered character with an elongated visage. According to Smith’s daughter Selby, contemporaries surmised that Gorey, known for being notoriously secretive about his sexuality, might have harbored feelings for his roommate.

“I cannot say if that is accurate,” Selby mentioned. “My dad would have been oblivious to it.”

A prolific author and illustrator, Gorey penned 116 books and is estimated to have produced cover designs for over 500 publications by other writers.

Among his most renowned creations is “The Gashlycrumb Tinies: A Very Gorey Alphabet Book,” in which each letter correlates with a child’s demise in darkly humorous and at times surreal manners. 

Gorey has had a profound impact on numerous contemporary authors, artists, and filmmakers, according to Schwartzburg.

“I believe one reason his appeal remains strong is that his work feels unanchored in a specific time and place. By situating his works in a sort of altered version of the past, he has somehow ensured it never feels outdated.”

The exhibit revels in Gorey’s peculiar fascinations: unicycles, Victorian attire, secretive characters, and, indeed, creative alliterations.

It also showcases original artifacts from Houghton’s archives from the Poets’ Theatre, a Cambridge organization that Gorey, O’Hara, and a group of fellow Harvard and Radcliffe graduates established shortly after his graduation. 

“Edward Gorey: The Gloomy Gallery” is accessible in the Edison and Newman Room at Houghton Library until Jan. 12. As Schwartzburg expressed, “If you feel the urge to indulge in gloom, or if you’re experiencing gloom and need a bit of a boost, this is the spot.”