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Born to be Posthumous: The Eccentric Life and Mysterious Genius of Edward Gorey (Little, Brown).


“A genius book about a bookish genius.”―Daniel Handler, author of A Series of Unfortunate Events.

“An absolutely riveting book about an utterly sui generis subject.”―Alison Bechdel, author of Fun Home

One of the Best Books of the Year—NPR.

“Editors’ Choice: 11 New Books We Recommend This Week.”—The New York Times.

Best books of 2018—The Guardian.

“4 Books We’re Loving Right Now.”—Vogue.

“Best Books of 2018″—Mental Floss.


(Photo of Edward Gorey: Richard Corman; copyright Richard Corman, all rights reserved.)

“A detailed, devoted, and highly readable biography of the illustrator who―from The Doubtful Guest to The Curious Sofa―defined and embodied a world of camp, gothic hilarity.”―Ben Schott, The Guardian

“Smart and entertaining… brings us closer than ever to understanding a man devoted to enigmas.”―Washington Post

“Provocative… Dery makes a convincing case that Gorey was the true godfather of Goth, inspiring a generation of pop culture memento mori, from the IMAX-scale nightmares of Tim Burton… to the travails of Lemony Snicket… Dery has set the standard for a comprehensive appraisal of his legacy.”―San Francisco Chronicle

“Gorey has found a superb biographer in Mark Dery… Some enigmas aren’t meant to be solved―but they can be usefully illuminated. That’s just what Dery does in this excellent book.”―Seattle Times

“Ravishing…Dery portrays the man behind those odd little books that delighted in showing children in danger, blending Victorian and Surrealistic sensibilities; Gorey was a Harvard man, a balletomane, and ultimately, an enigma.”―The Boston Globe

“Edward Gorey has been granted the most remarkable biography…”―Jonathan Lethem, author of The Feral Detective

“Knowing Gorey’s full story, done sparkling justice by Mark Dery, will only make you adore him more.'”—Caitlin Doughty, author of Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.


In Search of Lost Time: J.G. Ballard’s Magical Objects


Live, now, at Thought Catalog: “Memory Palace: Fay Ballard’s ‘House Clearance,” a review-cum-essay-cum-interview inspired by J.G. Ballard’s daughter’s exhibition of drawings of objects, magically charged by memory, which she found while clearing out her father’s Shepperton home.


Copyright Fay Ballard; all rights reserved. Image courtesy Eleven Spitalfields Gallery, London.


“House Clearance,” Fay Ballard’s exhibition of pencil sketches and watercolors at the London gallery Eleven Spitalfields (May 2, 2014—June 27, 2014), was inspired by the daunting chore of cleaning out her father’s house after his death, a rite of passage for more and more baby boomers. Ballard, who studied fine art at Central Saint Martin’s and botanical painting at the Chelsea Physic Garden, is known for her delicately limned “plant portraits,” as she calls them, which have been exhibited at the Royal Academy of Arts and are included in the collections of The Queen and The Prince of Wales. Her father, who died of prostate cancer in 2009, was J.G. Ballard, a writer of drily perverse science fictions written in the present tense, in the world brought to you by Charlie Manson, Madison Avenue, My Lai, Cape Canaveral, Zapruder frame 313, Bikini Atoll, Ronald Reagan, gated  communities, self-help, S&M, augmentation mammoplasty, ubiquitous surveillance, reality TV, and terrorist “franchises” with media strategies.

The Rat King

Live, now, at Boing Boing, “The Rat King: On the Fascinations (and Repulsions) of Rattus.” Click here to read.


Salvador Dali, Bulgarian Child Eating a Rat (1939).


In what he calls “an Experiment in Controlled Digression,” Mark Dery touches on xenogastronomy, ortolan, Edible Dormouse, Victor Hugo’s fondness for rat pâté, rat-baiting as a betting sport in Victorian times, the rat as New York’s unofficial mascot, Luis Buñuel’s pet rat, scientific research into such pressing questions as whether rats laugh, and whether rats will inherit the Earth as a result of climate change, Dracula’s dominion over rats, and of course the (cryptozoological myth? well-documented phenomenon?) of the Rat King.



This just in: the revised, final cover for the paperback edition of I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts, due out from the University of Minnesota Press, February 2014.


“An absolute treasure trove of the disturbing and enlightening.” – Warren Ellis.

“Brilliant.” – William Gibson.


WIN FREE SWAG! File Under: Ironic Exploitation of the Creative Class…By a Fellow Impecunious Hack.

Dear Friends: The University of Minnesota Press is bringing out a PAPERBACK EDITION of my latest essay collection, I MUST NOT THINK BAD THOUGHTS.

BUT: I must send them a list of ALL typos and errors of fact (of which, I say with some heat, there assuredly are NONE) by this coming Friday, Nov 8.

Here’s my Faustian bargain with you, dear reader: There’s only one of me, and a time-starved me, at that, but many of you. Make a list of all the typos and/or factual inaccuracies you’ve spotted in BAD THOUGHTS. Whoever spots the most errors will receive: a credit in the book’s acknowledgments IF U of Minn can squeeze one in, and a SIGNED copy of the paperback edition, inscribed to you with fond regards from Constant Writer.

Send all lists to me via markdery AT Verizon DOT net.




File under COSMIC WHIMSY: Late Thursday night, an Inbox ping alerted me to a mail from my friend Blake Leyh (@EarlOfEdgecombe), composer, sound designer, music supervisor for the HBO series Treme, and live Foley (radio play-style sound effects) artist. Would I join him onstage with THOMAS DOLBY (!), in Albany, New York, in a theater housed in a mammoth, ovoid art center, a Brutalist architect’s idea of a  sight gag called, unsurprisingly, The Egg? (They Might Be Giants wrote a song about it.)


All that was asked of me was that I interview Thomas and Blake about Dolby’s short film, THE INVISIBLE LIGHTHOUSE (, a moody, Proustian exercise in autobiographical time travel accompanied by the duo’s live music and Blake’s sound effects (coaxed from a tiny deer skull used as a wind instrument by an Amazonian tribe, a hand-held air-raid siren, and a box of rocks and leaves, which Blake tromped in—while playing guitar!—to create the sound of walking). In affecting narration that switched seamlessly from movie voiceover to live storytelling, Dolby recounted memories of his childhood in Suffolk, conjuring dreamlike images of the nearby lighthouse’s spot sweeping his bedroom at night, a Fortean tale of an alleged UFO landing in a forest not far from Dolby’s childhood home, and an impressionistic portrait of his uncle, a World War II submariner whose death at sea inspired “One of Our Submarines is Missing.”


Dolby and Leyh live in Albany. Photo: Laura Weyl.

Our onstage conversation was lively, funny, and mind-tickling: Dolby is one sharp tack, quick with the witty rejoinder yet self-effacing, deeply thoughtful about the role of memory and landscape in the creative process.

Screen Shot 2013-10-26 at 4.00.50 PM

Dolby and Dery in conversation. Photo: Laura Weyl.

After the show, he, Blake, and I stayed up late in the tour bus, tippling and talking: about the cultural politics and buried ideologies of the TED talks, about the “pornography of presence” in a virtual age, about Amanda Palmer and musicians’ changing relationship to fan culture, about musicians born and bred near the ocean and whether the sound of rollers echoes in their work, about the parallels between Britain and Japan and whether the British creative genius is fundamentally one of imitation, appropriation, recontextualization…or not. I came away from our conversation with an unabashed respect for the way Dolby has skipped nimbly across a cultural (and economic) landscape that has undergone plate-tectonic shifts since he first blew up huge in the ’80s, reinventing himself as inventor, CEO, music director (of TED Talks), DIY filmmaker, “transmedia” storyteller. Oh, and it’s true: “You don’t do ‘eavy metal in Doubly.”



Europa and the Pirate Twins: Blake Leyh, M. Dery, Thomas Dolby. Photo: Laura Weyl.

Dean Martin Existentialism: Bobby Darin’s “Beautiful Things”

“Why the Nightingale Sings: On Bobby Darin’s ‘Beautiful Things'”: HERE.

Attention-Conservation Keywords: Dr. Dolittle, “Dean Martin existentialism,” memento mori in the cocktail lounge, lovers with wings, the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche, Roland Barthes’s concept of the “punctum,” the nightingale as symbol, Dream Lovers: The Magnificent Shattered Lives of Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee, “Sailing to Byzantium” by W.B. Yeats.



Isn’t there something unsettling, a sly wink of Dean Martin existentialism, in Bobby Darin’s finger-poppin’ Vegas-hipster version of “Beautiful Things” (from the 1967 movie musical Doctor Dolittle)? A hint of nonchalant menace to that walking bassline as it slinks down a minor scale in the song’s opening bars? Subliminal whispers of memento mori amid the brassy blare of Roger Kellaway’s orchestral setting, which nails that sweet spot between suave and schmaltzy? Intimations of mortality between the lines of Leslie Bricusse’s lyrics about “beautiful days of sun-kissed showers” and “beautiful nights of moon-kissed hours,” right there in Darin’s breezy delivery of the lines, “Our lives tick by like pendulum swings/ Delicate things, butterfly wings?”



This Saturday, at the extraordinary New York Academy of Medicine Library, I’ll be speaking from 12:30-1 PM on “Gray Matter: The Obscure Pleasures of Medical Libraries,” at a conference brilliantly curated by Joanna Ebenstein of Morbid Anatomy and featuring, among others, Oliver Sacks, Lawrence Weschler, Michael Sappol, Amy Herzog, and Salvador Olguin.

WHAT: Festival of Medical History & The Arts.

WHERE: New York Academy of Medicine, 1216 Fifth Avenue at 103rd Street.



“Medical libraries such as the New York Academy of Medicine’s offer ready access to a mother lode of ‘invisible literature,’ the SF novelist J. G. Ballard’s term for medical textbooks, scientific journals, technical manuals, and other gray matter. Although it comprises a veritable galaxy in the universe of print media, invisible literature is nowhere to be found in general-interest bookstores and is never reviewed in mainstream book pages for the simple fact that no one, not even the specialists who are its intended audience, thinks of this stuff as literature in the literary sense of the word. But what if we did?”


The Politics Of Style: Reading T Magazine


Men’s fashion mags make my left knee jerk.

Then again, why should fascists have the best boots?

The Politics Of Style: Reading T Magazine.

Historically, the Left, in postwar America, has sneered at fashion as frivolous, fatuous, and irredeemably bourgeois, embracing body hair, B.O., Salvation Army schmatte-wear, and a determined frumpiness as tokens of anti-establishment authenticity, clenched-fist solidarity with the working class, and conscientious objection to the Beauty Myth propagated by women’s magazines, Mad men, and Hollywood. (Think of John Lennon in his U.S. Army jacket, at the height of his rumpled, power-to-the-people earnestness; now think of John cutting the dash in a mod suit and fur jacket at the opening of Apple Tailoring in London, 1968. Think of Bob Dylan in dustbowl-Oakie drag; now think of Bob in his Don’t Look Back days, licensed to kill in skinny jeans, Italian boots, and dark sunglasses. The prosecution rests.)

To this day, my leftish friends of a certain age define fashion as any investment in appearance whatsoever, and view it with deep suspicion as clear evidence of counterrevolutionary tendencies.



My essay “England My England: Anglophilia Explained” is now an audiobook, listed under “humor” (shouldn’t it be “humour”?), at Buy it here.