The Tunnel Calamity (1984)
Gorey devised The Tunnel Calamity after the world-wide success of the 1977 production of Dracula, for which he won a Tony for his design of its costumes and sets. He earned enough from the play to refurbish his Cape Cod house (now the Edward Gorey House Museum) and take on art commissions only of his choosing. At the same time he expanded his fascination with the flexibility of the book form with constructions such as the toy theatre, pop-up book, flip-book, mix-and-match, chose-your-own-adventure, and, of course, the tunnel book.
As an homage The Tunnel Calamity salutes a number of similar tunnel books (also known as peep show books) that commemorated the opening of a pedestrian tunnel under London’s Thames River in 1843. As designed by Marc Brunel the tunnel connected two significant areas of London and was considered the first constructed successfully underneath a navigable river.
Gorey’s nod to the original British toy book functions as only he could devise: “the tunnel celebrates connecting East Shoetree and West Radish, St Fumble’s Day, 1892.” A peek through the eye-hole on the book’s front cover reveals neither the shore of East Shoetree or the skyline of West Radish, but rather a colorful yet mysterious three-dimensional Goreyesque scene as the pages telescope out from one inch to a depth of twenty-four inches.
All along the tunnel view are eight supporting stonework arches flanked by ballerina sculptures on pedestals. Now and then a human skull emerges from the top of an arch to remind us of the hazards suffered by workers on such a daunting project. Curiosity and excitement have drawn the most fashionable venturers to this unique underworld. At the first archway, three bearded men smartly dressed in long Edwardian fur coats and tall top hats surreptitiously pass notes; perhaps invitations to the next meeting at a local chapter of the highly secret Ghost Club, notable members of which are Charles Dickens and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Shortly along the passageway a teacher in a furry hand-muff and veiled, broad-brimmed hat joins her gaggle of Sunday-best dressed children staring up in awe of the lofty vault and its bizarre construction. About half-way through the tunnel, we find little Trevor Husk clutching his stuffed Eeyore doll while confronting a hulking creature blocking his way. The elephantine monster is a long-extinct Uluus, origin unknown or otherwise dubious.
The beast evidently poses no threat, as proved by a number of visitors walking around it. Among them are the Saltene twins, Sylvia and Sylvester. Just before scurrying back to their parents, they caught a glimpse of a strange armless figure perched in a round niche on the wall high above them that sent a cold shiver sliding down their backs. Of course, it is the Black Doll — there to represent the book’s author/artist much as Alfred Hitchcock made fleeting appearances in the thrillers he directed.
Long out of print, a pristine first edition of The Tunnel Calamity is hard to find due to its fragile, easy-to-discard-after-play nature. In 2015 Pomegranate produced a second edition; the same item, but sold in a handsome, sturdy illustrated box, designed to prolong the book’s shelf life. It, too, is now out-of-print. Nevertheless, a dedicated Gorey library must have both.
by Malcolm Whyte
