Behind the Book: “Alphabet of Oddities” and the Rabbit Hole of Macabre Art
Dive into this behind-the-book note from the author of Alphabet of Oddities to discover how 40 years of Victorian art and dark whimsy shaped the book.
Ever wondered how a whimsical, macabre masterpiece comes to life? In this exclusive behind-the-book message, the author and illustrator of Alphabet of Oddities, Ronald Porcelli, shares the winding journey that led to this delightfully dark collection of eerie creatures. Inspired by 19th-century masters like Gustave Doré and John Tenniel, he reflects on the professional setbacks, creative revivals, and moments of inspiration that fueled his passion for the arts.
Jump down the rabbit hole and watch these creatures come to life.
Ronald Porcelli’s Book of Letters
“To represent terrible and questionable things is, in itself, the sign of an instinct of power and magnificence in the artist; he doesn’t fear them.”
—Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power
Life is a series of stepping stones. Stepping stones on a path that leads us on a personal journey across rough roads and smooth. A path with twists and turns both wonderful and horrible. A very personal path that we tread, searching . . . Searching for what? Our bliss.
“My bliss has always been the arts.”
My bliss has always been the arts—viewing and creating.The seed for this book was originally planted in my head over forty years ago, while working in the bookroom in Richmond Hill High School in Queens. As I was sitting around after helping Mr. Banilower stack the books, the lines came to my head: “A is for Adzooks that walk with no head, B is for Boozoins that feed on the dead.”
I thought to myself, “What great lines!” It would be interesting to write a book of letters, where each letter is represented by a weird, whimsical creature. In the following days, I jotted down some more lines, but in time I put aside the project and misplaced the additional lines, but remembered the first two lines as if they were inscribed in my brain.
“I made the grave mistake of allowing the world to devour me.”
A is for Adzooks that walk with no head.
After high school and college at SVA, I made the grave mistake of allowing the world to devour me. I was caught up in making a living and didn’t put anywhere near as much time in my artwork or writing.
About ten years after high school, I published an illustrated edition of the works of Poe, The Essential Poe: Tales of Horror and Mystery, that contained twenty-seven of my illustrations for various Edgar Allen Poe stories. The book did not sell well, but it put the bug in my head to return to the right road, the world that will take me to my personal bliss: the world of illustration.
After The Essential Poe was published, I continued to hit the proverbial time clock, but with a fever to illustrate that was truly overwhelming.
The next project I decided to do was illustrate the oldest vampire novel ever written in the English language (Varney the Vampire by James Rymer, originally published in 1847). It was a massive project taking three years of intense work. But the book, an almost nine-hundred page tome, was so large it couldn’t get off the ground. No publisher wanted to handle so huge a project written by an author whose name is forgotten to the ages and illustrated by a fairly unknown artist.
This was all very discouraging, especially with all the work put into the art, that I hardly worked on much art (except a few small projects here and there) for the next few years. And then along came Caryl Ehrlich.
“Now we approach the cobblestone path that leads directly to this book.”
Caryl put out an ad for an artist to illustrate a line of greeting cards that would promote her self-help program. I brought my portfolio to her and she fell in love with my black-and-white illustrations, which reminded her of nineteenth-century artists such as Doré, Phiz, and Tenniel—artists who have always been inspirations to me.
Now we approach the cobblestone path that leads directly to this book.
In 2000, Caryl asked me to paint illustrations on a modern chair she has in her apartment. I had never done such a project before. I really didn’t think my artwork would be suited to this job, and yet, I felt bad just saying no to Caryl because she had been very kind and helpful to me.
“We shall jump down the proverbial rabbit hole together.”
I had the idea to send her an illustrated poem about why I couldn’t work on this project. The poem became “The Chair,” and Caryl loved it. (She tells me she had every drawing framed and they are hanging on her office wall.)
“The Chair” was such a big hit that it got me thinking of my book of letters for the first time in years. I immediately completed the poem and for the next few years worked on the illustrations.
All my life I have been enthralled by the quality of the illustrations by such nineteenth-century artists as I have mentioned. And I have always attempted to reach the heights of their greatness. Whether I have lived up to these expectations, you be the judge.
So take my hand. We shall jump down the proverbial rabbit hole together. But be warned, Alice! This ain’t no Wonderland.
Discover the Delightfully Twisted World of Ronald Porcelli
Alphabet of Oddities
Excerpt from Alphabet of Oddities by Ronald Porcelli.