Gorey Story

So, a few weeks ago, Tommy and I went to see the Edward Gorey exhibit at the Boston Athenaeum, which is up on Beacon Street across from the State House.  It closes tomorrow, and it's pretty fabulous, so: HURRY UP!

I'm not sure how I ever avoided going into this wondrous building before, but it's pretty remarkable: sort of like stepping into a time machine and going back to some Boston of olde, populated by blue-blooded Beacon Hill beagles.

I think it helped matters that we were visiting during "tea time", which apparently occurs only twice a month.

The lobby was just littered with olde Brahmin ladies, dripping in their afternoon jewels.

In the corner were two slender, wispy little 20-something gay boys who looked like they stepped out of an Evelyn Waugh novel. 

Money and privilege seemed to emanate from them, like some sort of fascinating scent.

One of them was wearing an ascot.  I swear to god.  An ascot. 

They were soon joined by another willowy gay boy and a zaftig woman in a black and white dress. 

She was wearing what looked like a stuffed bat on her head.

"Hello Ladies!" the newly arrived Waugh-boy exclaimed to the other two.

They all tittered and traipsed into an elegant parlor to have tea and scones together.

I guess it's little wonder that the Gorey exhibit found such a welcoming home in this place: his drawings of aristocratic, decadent, slightly louche and vaguely murderous characters are portraits of the actual Athenaeum clientele!