The Museum at Purgatory Hardcover – October 6, 1999

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.com Review ----------- Nick Bantock first burst onto the literary scene in 1991 with his remarkable illustrated novel Griffin & Sabine ( /exec/obidos/ASIN/0877017883/%24%7B0%7D )--which was as much art as it was artifice. While chronicling the correspondence between two mysterious lovers, Bantock peppered his book with visual delights--macabre post cards, intricately designed stamps, exquisite envelopes that open to disclose hand-written letters. Sabine's ( /exec/obidos/ASIN/0811801802/%24%7B0%7D ) and The Golden Mean ( /exec/obidos/ASIN/0811802981/%24%7B0%7D ) soon followed to complete the trilogy. In many respects, The Museum at Purgatory resembles its predecessors, mixing metaphysics and art in a way meant to both puzzle and delight its readers. The narrator offers the basic premise early on: "My name is Non, and as Curator of the Museum here at Purgatory I am required by statute to facilitate, without judgment, the progress of all collectors assigned to these halls. It is my responsibility to act as their souls' guardian, as well as preserver of their accumulated treasures." Non then goes on to give a brief overview of the layout of Purgatory, a city that "takes a meditative, non-partisan view of reality" and where visitors are "faced with fundamental questions of self-worth" that must be resolved before they can move on. In other words, this stopping place between heaven and hell is one big analyst's couch. Non's introduction to Purgatory scans like the overly formal, academic language one finds on informational panels in natural history museums--no doubt Bantock's intention. Unfortunately, this can become wearing after a while, and it isn't until the second half of the book when Non tells his own story (as sed to the histories of the various "collections" under his care) that the prose loosens up somewhat. But it's the illustrations that make Bantock's books special; it's unfortunate that several of them look as if they've escaped from a Dorling Kindersley guidebook--photographs of objects on stark backgrounds with a caption explaining their significance or use. Yet this museum contains some lovely examples of its author's art. As always, his stamps and postcards are exquisite--and how many cards are postmarked Nirvana or bear stamps from Inferno? This book may not equal the mystery or sheer beauty of the Griffin & Sabine trilogy, but Nick Bantock fans will still find plenty to intrigue and amuse. --Alix Wilber Read more ( javascript:void(0) ) From Publishers Weekly ---------------------- The author/artist of Griffin and Sabine, The Venetian's Wife and The Forgetting Room creates another lavishly illustrated fantasia, this time drawing up the fictional catalogue of a museum located in Purgatory. Envisioning that shadowy middle kingdom as a vast storehouse for the memories and artifacts of earthly existence, Bantock invents his own compelling version of the afterlife, in which the dead are required to examine objects culled from their lives and thereby decide their own es. This scholar's dream is presided over by Curator Non, who suffers from a rare form of amnesia; until he remembers who he was in life, he must remain in Purgatory. Advising 10 other souls-in-transit on their collections, he picks up from each a hint of what the objects from his own collection might look like. The tour of these assemblages, documented both in text and images, begins with the Winter room. Alice Seline Winter, "timid as a pygmy sparrow," is represented by mangy taxidermic specimens, animal s welded to rocks, and French cards, all part of a larger collection she compiled to console herself for her drab existence. Another room is occupied by six magical carpets purportedly belonging to a familiar figure in literary history, Edward Fitzgerald, the translator of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Other chambers feature "entomological amalgams" (fantastic insects pieced together from loose legs, wings and pincers), cryptic board games, miniature mummies and an imaginary history of spinning tops. The connections between the objects on display and the personalities and es of their collectors are interesting, but the reader is left wishing the objects weren't quite so dark and musty. Bantock's fascination with the arcane gives the catalogue a convincing patina, but it's his exactingly detailed four-color illustrations, vivified by imaginative flourishes and fanciful devices that make his books unique among their genre. West Coast author appearances. (Nov.) Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc. Read more ( javascript:void(0) ) See all Editorial Reviews ( /dp/product-description/0067575463/ref=dp_proddesc_0?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&isInIframe=0 )