Treehorn’s Treasure and the Disappearing Dragon
Treehorn’s Treasure (1981)
Treehorn ‘s adventures spark a trilogy of books by Florence Parry Heide and illustrated by Edward Gorey. Exciting things often happen to five- or six-year old’s like Treehorn that they ache to share— especially with their elders — but it is often impossible to get the grown ups’ attention.
For example, in The Shrinking of Treehorn (1971) the boy tells his parents that he’s growing smaller, prompting only quasi-recognition: “If you want to pretend that you’re shrinking, that’s all right,” said Treehorn’s mother, “as long as you don’t do it at the table.” In Treehorn’s Treasure (1981), when Treehorn announces that his tree’s leaves are turning to dollar bills, replies are vague and inattentive. Treehorn’s Wish (1984) builds off of the lad uncorking a jug he found in the backyard that produces a listless, birthday-wish-granting genie who stays unseen by others.
Treehorn’s Treasure starts with Treehorn seated in his closet re-reading one of his many re-read comic books. An imagination balloon forms over him showing him fighting off a horrible serpent monster roaring “GLERFLOOK!” Replacing the comic on his stack he thinks that as soon as he gets his allowance he can buy some new comics and send in for things advertised in them.
He donning his raincoat of many pockets to put things in and goes to the dining room where father advises his mother on which fabric he likes for the furniture: “We’re going to have to be more careful about what we spend, Emily, we’re going to have to learn to save, save for a rainy day.” Treehorn asks: “Can I have my allowance? You forgot it last week so you owe me for two weeks.” As the parents continue to discuss household expenses and father intones: “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Emily,” another of Treehorn’s thoughts balloons appear over half the page; showing Treehorn jumping into the river just in time to escape the flames of a fire-breathing entity— “OMPF!”
While mother goes to let the kitchen painter in, Treehorn again asks his father: for his allowance. Father looks at his son. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Treehorn, but I’ve forgotten what it was.”
“My allowance,” said Treehorn. “You owe me for two weeks.”
“It had something to do with money,” said Treehorn’s father.
“If I get it today I can send in for things,” said Treehorn.
“I’ve just thought what it was I wanted to talk to you about, Treehorn,” said his father. “I have a surprise for you. I’m going to give you a whole dollar.”
“You owe me for two weeks,” said Treehorn.
“I’m going to give you a whole dollar, Treehorn’s father went on. “And I want you to save it.”
“If I save it I can’t spend it,’ said Treehorn.
“That’s the point, Treehorn. The whole purpose of money is to save. Save, not spend. A dollar saved is a dollar earned,” said Treehorn’s father. “A man’s savings is a man’s treasure.’
“What good does it do if I just save it?” asked Treehorn. “I want to send in for things.”
“Money doesn’t grow on trees, Treehorn,” said his father. “Put this dollar in a safe place. You’ll be glad you did.”
So, reluctantly Treehorn took the whole dollar, put it in an envelope he had in his raincoat pocket, and slipped it into a hole in the tree where he had stashed some bubblegum. He unwrapped the gum, and started reading a comic book. He was just getting comfortable when he looked up at the tree. The leaves looked like they were turning into dollar bills.
Treehorn borrowed the painter’s ladder to get a closer look. The leaves are changing into dollars — hundreds of them. When he returned the ladder, he held up a fistful to the painter who just sighed and said: “In my day a kid had to work for his money. If you ask me, kids these days are spoiled rotten.”
Thus, the conversations — or lack thereof — went between Treehorn and others. He tried to share his good news, only to get oblique responses. At one point, Treehorn took his fresh-grown dollars to the drugstore and bought one each of the new comics, several dozen packs of bubble gum, twenty-three candy bars, and sixteen bottles of pop.
Next morning, at the breakfast table, Treehorn’s father asked his son to get the dollar bill to put in a savings account for him. “That way you can see your money grow. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing money grow, Treehorn.”
“I know,” said Treehorn. “It’s growing on the tree out in the yard. I was just going to pick some.” Outside, Treehorn looked up at the tree. All the leaves were ripe. There were hundreds and hundreds of dollar bills. He retrieved his father’s dollar, gave it to him, and went to ask the painter if he could borrow his ladder again. When he climbed up, he saw that all the dollar bills were fading. All that was left on the leaves was the face of George Washington, and it was fading, too.
Handing back the ladder to the painter, he tells him that “The dollar bills have all faded. They’re all turning back into leaves.”
“Everybody’s got problems,” said the painter
This enchanting story ends with Treehorn going to his closet “to see if the envelope addressed to THE HE-MAN COMPANY was still in his raincoat pocket. As soon as he got his next allowance, he’d send for that strong-man kit.”
The Disappearing Dragon
Florence Heide’s companionable writing and Gorey’s buoyant Illustrations are a dream match for creating an enduring, magical book like Treehorn’s Treasure. Looking over their long lists of other publications shows they both love a mystery. Transforming Treehorn’s leaves to dollar bills is just one instance from the scores of Heide’s books. The sudden appearance of an odd creature in The Doubtful Guest and the strange events woven through The Willowdale Handcar are two very read-worthy examples by Gorey.
Late in December 2013 a phone call from Andreas Brown, Gotham Book Mart owner and inexorable promoter of Gorey’s works, initiated another Treehorn mystery that centered on a vanished dragon.
Brown offered to sell an original ink drawing of a raging dragon. Christmas was just a few weeks away and I was pondering a gift for my wife who was key in starting our Gorey art collection and loves dragons—this would be perfect.
When the art arrived, something about it seemed familiar, but also not quite right. It had elements similar to the drawing on the back cover of Treehorn’s Treasure. The, decorative trim behind Treehorn in the ink drawing was identical to that on the printed image, as was the figure of Treehorn, with a big bubble hiding his face and a copy of “Weird” comic book in his right hand. The clincher was an acetate overlay that came with the art; it was to be used to color the dragon and the green that framed the back cover. This was the original art for Treehorn’s Treasure’s back cover!
But, where was the dragon on the printed book!? The roaring, bubble-gum chewing creature conjured by Treehorn’s imagination was consistent with the other figments the boy dreamed up throughout the story, like the many-headed serpent, a giant bat, or the evil Doctor Nonono. So, why had the dragon disappeared, and how? I figured that the art and lettering had been had been altered or eliminated on film or with photocopies, but had no clue as to why.
Part of the answer came in a surprising coincidence. Responding to my email about the dragon drawing, Mary Dillmann, a friend in Milwaukee who also loves Gorey’s work, said that she is a friend of David Heide, son of Treehorn author, Florence Parry Heide! Caught up in the mystery, David contacted former editors, and agents of his mother and, consulted with his sister, Judith, who summed up their research.
“Here’s what she thinks happened: When Gorey finished the art for the back cover (with dragon), he didn’t send it to Holiday House (publisher). He let my mother see it first. And she loathed it. Judy says my mother felt it was too un-Gorey-like and too comical. She would have hated hurting his feelings, but she felt strongly enough about it to talk to him about it. Though Gorey couldn’t stand having people mess with his work or tell him what to do, Judy thinks he nevertheless removed it on her account, perhaps even agreeing with her.
“The other reason I like this construction is based on something I mentioned to your earlier” David continued, “according to the other editor at HH, Margery Cuyler, if John Briggs [editor] did didn’t know about it [dragon drawing], no one would — every single thing having to do with Gorey he wanted to handle himself. So, it leads me to believe he never saw the art, and it was a decision made by Ted and my mother. And then, of course, he gave it to my mother as a souvenir— and you know the rest.”[i]
It was wonderful to learn I now have a confirmed original, unpublished drawing by Edward Gorey, but exactly how Treehorn’s Treasure’s back cover was changed in 1971 was still unknown. I felt our “mystery story” might be interesting enough for Irwin Terry to share with fans on his Goreyana website that I sent it to him. He was intrigued enough to make a marvelous posting at goreyana.blogspot.com in November, 2019, ending with:
“On the original artwork, there are a series of four xeroxed border panels affixed to the surface of the drawing, indicating the new placement of the horizontal decorative border row on the wall. Were the xeroxes made and affixed by Edward Gorey himself? This is one mystery that may never be solved.”
A few months later, however, Terry obtained new evidence that not only supports the Heide sibling’s ideas, but brings The Case of the Disappearing Dragon to a close.
“Following my post from November 23, 2019 regarding the disappearing dragon from the rear cover of Treehorn’s Treasure (https://goreyana.blogspot.com/2019/11/where-is-dragon.html), I was curious to know what might exist in the Edward Gorey archive that could shed light onto the process of removing more than half of an image for publication. I contacted the Edward Gorey Charitable Trust, and after a little digging, archivist Will Baker was able to provide images of existing artwork that answer the question, “How did the dragon disappear?”
“In 1981 printing an illustrated book was very much a hand-crafted endeavor. Today, layouts and printing dummies are created on computer, but in 1981 everything was done by hand using physical copies of the artwork, photography, and photostats. To print an illustrated book, the artist would send the completed artwork to the publisher. The drawings would be photographed and full sized photostats would be printed to be used by the printer. A board would be made for each page, and the stat would be pasted into position along with a stat of any type that appeared on the same page. This would once again be photographed and sent to the printer.
“On to the artwork. It is of interest that the image appears to have hit two roadblocks on its journey to the back cover of the book.
“Part One:
“The artwork with dragon is created by Edward Gorey and sent to the Publisher. Someone at the publisher, probably editor John Briggs, objects to the imagination bubble surrounding the dragon coming down on the lower left side and wants to extend the decorative wall border all the way across the image. Edward Gorey approves the change, and a Xerox border extension is affixed to the original drawing to make the change. The drawing is then photographed, a stat is made and a color separation is generated which indicates that green will be filled in on the bubble and dragon’s body. Everything is ready for printing. It should be noted that the modified image has now become confusing — the dragon now appears to be standing on the border and also flat on the wall. This kind of visual confusion can result when a non-artist begins to alter an artist’s work.
“Part Two:
“Author Florence Parry Heide views a proof or stat of the back cover and strongly objects to the dragon and requests that Edward Gorey remove it entirely from the back cover. Edward Gorey agrees to the change, but the book is now ready for printing and there is no time to redraw the art.
“The fastest way to remove the dragon is for a layout artist at the publisher to take the stat of the back cover and modify it. This modified stat is the piece of artwork now in the Gorey Archives. Using an Exacto knife, the stat is cut and the dragon is removed from the board. The glue residue (most likely rubber cement) and cut lines on the surface of the board shows that the stat was carefully cut and portions removed. A second stat is cut and used to repair the wall border where the “Bigger Bubble” had overlapped on the original artwork. White paint is applied to remove some small excess lines. The artwork now modified, is photographed once again.
“Today, the changes would be discussed by text or email and the image would be modified in a matter of minutes on a computer, probably by the artist himself. In 1981 these changes would involve multiple phone conversations and, if Edward Gorey wanted to see the changes, an overnight letter with a copy of the adjusted artwork would need to be sent. There would also be no physical record of the process to study almost 40 years later.” [ii]
Heide and Gorey
A rewarding sidelight to the dragon’s tale was learning about the truly warm relationship between the two creators of Treehorn’s Treasure. Pairing of writer and illustrator for a book is usually at the pleasure of the publisher who knows what combination makes the best book, artistically and most marketable. The author and artist may know each other, or at least, of each other, but all editorial decisions are made between the creator and the book’s editor or publisher, not usually between paired creators. Gorey and Heide did meet and became fast friends, as the Kenosha, Wisconsin author who calls herself “just a pleasant cheerful, lucky lady” attests.[iii]
“It’s [The Shrinking of Treehorn’s] been accepted by Holliday House! That in itself was enough to make my head spin, but now look: Edward Gorey was to be the illustrator! Edward Gorey, whose work I had so admired, was to illustrate my books!
“And now I was to meet him! I, Ms Plain Vanilla, was to meet the famous and fabulous Edward Gorey: John Briggs of Holiday House had so arranged. We were to sign copies of the newly published The Shrinking of Treehorn. And there he was: Be still my heart. He asked me to call him Ted. Edward Gorey asked me to call him Ted! He gave me a beanbag frog he’d made on which he’d stitched “I have turned green.
“We were instant friends, lifelong friends. Each time I came to New York, and in those days, I was a frequent visitor, we would meet each other, have lunch, talk. And talk.” [vi]
Even in the most cordial relations, tensions can rise temporarily. When Heide saw Gorey’s baroque dragon, although she would have hated to hurt Gorey’s feelings, she spoke up, and the dragon disappeared. Her son David reported a demand from the other side.
“Gorey insisted my mother remove a reference in the text to a porch at the front of the house. ‘There’s no porch on Treehorn’s house,’ he told her matter-of-factly He knew what the house looked like before he ever put ink to paper. That was his domain, he felt.” [v]
The Dragon Abides
One piece of the “Disappearing Dragon” remains open. We know that somewhere in the mists of time, Andreas had done a special favor for Florence and in return she gifted the gum-chewing beast to him. We don’t know what that favor was and probably never will. Meanwhile, the wandering dragon hangs on our kitchen wall where it keeps growling about the fact that he was dropped from the prominence of Treehorn’s Treasure’s back cover, unaware of how much attention he gained just from the complicated mystery story he stirred up.
Treehorn’s Treasure rewards us with a blend of seamless story-telling, sophisticated art, and the untrammeled imagination of youth — like that open, innovative mind we had when we were growing up.
By Malcolm Whyte