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Forest of the Dead (out of print books and nostalgia)

Shardovan

Partly inspired by Simon’s books thread, a bit of a sidebar into the realm of books you have nostalgic memories of, that are no longer in print. I’m thinking in particular of illustrated books from childhood.

When I was a child I loved books with detailed illustration in particular, and could get lost for hours in just the little granular touches added to give depth or an extra haunting quality. I’m going to try to track down a few others, but getting the ball rolling, here’s the gently disquieting version of Hansel and Gretel that will forever be how that story looks and feels in my mind. Spooky and with a pale wash of something almost like pointillism - rich in detail, the forest feeling like pure loneliness in impassive vastness. illustrations by Susan Jeffers. 

Parents

  • I've always loved this cover, though not solely for the vaguely Blakean art itself: 

    Specifically because the very quiet, poignant imagery seemingly flies in the face of accepted wisdom regarding the horror of the story. There's something very 'English ghost story' about the cover - it's perhaps only mildly atmospheric but that is fitting: like a whisper in one's ear, it's subtle while insistently remaining memorable. Much the same as numerous English ghost stories, in that there's often a fey, lingering atmosphere of the past about them; a quiet sadness and an air of regret. England is a land of history, and not merely in its most famous national stories but also in the smaller and more personal yet universal tales, like those of loss and of long-remembered love.

    But most important to me is the art's relation to a crucial element of Hill's celebrated story: the ghostly villain's revenge is a terrible, unforgivable and pointless one...yet few will remember and so bear in mind the awful, lonely sadness of her life, of her mistreatment by others, and of the cruel snatching away of her only child. Her vengeance is unjustifiable, but understandable nonetheless. Her revenge is as futile as the quiet scene depicted on the cover of this first edition: a solitary ghost keeping vigil beside graves, while her child will always be apart from her no matter her yearning. It's the longing that haunts us.

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  • I've always loved this cover, though not solely for the vaguely Blakean art itself: 

    Specifically because the very quiet, poignant imagery seemingly flies in the face of accepted wisdom regarding the horror of the story. There's something very 'English ghost story' about the cover - it's perhaps only mildly atmospheric but that is fitting: like a whisper in one's ear, it's subtle while insistently remaining memorable. Much the same as numerous English ghost stories, in that there's often a fey, lingering atmosphere of the past about them; a quiet sadness and an air of regret. England is a land of history, and not merely in its most famous national stories but also in the smaller and more personal yet universal tales, like those of loss and of long-remembered love.

    But most important to me is the art's relation to a crucial element of Hill's celebrated story: the ghostly villain's revenge is a terrible, unforgivable and pointless one...yet few will remember and so bear in mind the awful, lonely sadness of her life, of her mistreatment by others, and of the cruel snatching away of her only child. Her vengeance is unjustifiable, but understandable nonetheless. Her revenge is as futile as the quiet scene depicted on the cover of this first edition: a solitary ghost keeping vigil beside graves, while her child will always be apart from her no matter her yearning. It's the longing that haunts us.

Children
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