With more than two million copies in print, Nick Bantock's trilogy of romantic intrigue is now available as a set, beautifully packaged in an illustrated slipcase created by the author. A lovely gift for those new to the saga of the mysterious lovers, this distinctive collection also makes an enduring keepsake for devoted fans.
Nick was schooled in England and has a BA in Fine Art (painting). He has authored 25 books, 11 of which have appeared on the best seller lists, including 3 books on The New York Times top ten at one time. Griffin & Sabine stayed on that list for over two years. His works have been translated into 13 languages and over 5 million have been sold worldwide. Once named by the classic SF magazine Weird Tales as one of the best 85 storytellers of the century. He has written articles and stories for numerous international newspapers and magazines. His Wasnick blogs are much followed on Facebook and Twitter. His paintings, drawings, sculptures, collages and prints have been exhibited in shows in UK, France and North America. In 2010 Nick's major retrospective exhibition opened at the MOA in Denver. His works are in private collections throughout the world. Nick has a lifetime BAFTA (British Oscar) for the CD-ROM game Ceremony of Innocence, created with Peter Gabriel's Real World, featuring Isabella Rossolini and Ben Kingsley. He has two iPad apps, Sage and The Venetian and is working on a third. Three of his books have been optioned for film and his stage play based on the Griffin & Sabine double trilogy premiered in Vancouver in 2006.
Produced artwork for more than 300 book covers (including works by Roth and Updike), illustrated Viking Penguin's new translation of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. He's designed theater posters for the London plays of Tom Stoppard and Alec Guinness.
For 20 years Bantock has spoken and read to audiences throughout North America, Europe and Australia. Given keynote and motivational speeches to corporations and teachers state conferences. He's given dramatic readings on the radio and the stage and has been interviewed (way too many times) for TV, radio and print.
Bantock has worked in a betting shop in the East End of London, trained as a psychotherapist, designed and built a house that combined an Indonesian temple and a Russian orthodox church with an English cricket pavilion and a New Orleans bordello. Between 2007 and 2010 was one of the twelve committee members responsible for selecting Canada's postage stamps.
Among the things Bantock can't do: Can't swim, never ridden a horse, his spelling is dreadful and his singing voice is flat as a pancake.
ধরুন আপনি একদিন একটা পোস্টকার্ড পেলেন সম্পূর্ণ অচেনা একজনের কাছ থেকে, যিনি সেই পোস্টকার্ডে এমন একটি ঘটনার কথা উল্লেখ করেছেন যা আপনি ছাড়া আর কারও জানবার কথা না। কি অনুভূতি হবে আপনার তখন?
গ্রিফিন নামের আঁকিয়ে ভদ্রলোকের সাথে ঠিক এমন কিছুই ঘটেছিলো। দূর এক দ্বীপ থেকে হঠাৎ পাওয়া একটা পোস্টকার্ড এবং তার মধ্যে দিয়েই সেবিনের সাথে তার পরিচয়। তিনি চেনেন না, জানেন না সেবিনকে। কিন্তু তার সম্পর্কে অনেক কিছুই সেবিন জানে এবং তা পোস্টকার্ডের পেছনে লিখে পাঠায়। কৌতূহলবশত গ্রিফিনও তাকে উত্তর দেয় পোস্টকার্ডের মাধ্যমে। এভাবেই পোস্টকার্ড আদান-প্রদানের মধ্যে দিয়ে একসময় তারা দুজন দুজনের সাথে অদ্ভুত রকম এক ভালোবাসার বাঁধনে জড়িয়ে পরে।
কিন্তু একসময় গ্রিফিনের ভয় হয় নিজেকে নিয়ে। সে ভাবে যে সেবিন আর কেউ না, তার নিজেরই এক কল্পনামাত্র। অপরদিকে সেবিন তাকে জানাতে প্রস্তুত যে সে ঠিক কতখানি সত্যি এবং বাস্তব। গ্রিফিনের মনে তখনও সংশয়! তবুও একটা ইচ্ছা তো রয়েই যায় তার সেই কল্পনা কিংবা বাস্তব প্রেয়সীকে একবার দেখবার।
এরপরই তারা দুজন আরও অদ্ভুত এক ব্যাপারের সম্মুখীন হন এবং তারা বুঝতে পারেন তারা দুজনেই প্যারালাল কোন জগতে বাস করছেন। আর এজন্য একই সময়ে, একই জায়গায় থেকেও তারা একে অপরকে দেখতে পারছেন না! এখানেই শেষ না কিন্তু। কাহিনী আরও আছে।
লেক হাউজ নামে হলিউডের একটা মুভি ছিল। সেটা অবশ্য কোরিয়ানইল মারে মুভি থেকে অ্যাডাপ্টেড। তা যাক গে! আমি এই প্যারালাল জগতের কথা পড়বার পর্যন্ত ভেবেছিলাম যে এটা সেরকমই কিছু হবে। কিন্তু শেষে গিয়ে অন্যরকম একটা টুইস্টে শেষ হয়েছে তিন পার্টের এই সিরিজ। আর শেষটায় মাথা গরম হয়েছে কারণ লেখক অনেক প্রশ্ন আনসল্ভড রেখেই সিরিজ শেষ করেছেন! Not fair! তারপরও বইয়ের এই অন্যরকম কাহিনী আমার বেশ ভালো লেগেছে।
বই ভালো লাগার আরেকটা কারণ বলি। এটা আর সব বইয়ের মতো প্যারা করে লেখা কোন বই না। এখানে গ্রিফিন আর সেবিনের যে কথোপকথন হয়েছে তার সবই পোস্টকার্ডের পেছনে লেখা আকারেই প্রেজেন্ট করা হয়েছে। এমনকি খাম, স্ট্যাম্প, সবই একদম যেমন হয় তেমনি তুলে ধরা হয়েছে। এই জিনসটা আমার খুবই ভালো লেগেছে। কাহিনী আর এই আর্টিস্টিক প্রেজেন্টেশনের কারণে চার তারা দেবো নিঃসন্দেহে। আর যদি লেখক কাহিনীর প্যাঁচটা খুলে দিতেন তাহলে আরেকটা তারা বেশি দিতাম। কি জানি, হয়তো শেষটা তিনি রহস্যই রাখতে চেয়েছেন! হয়তো!
These books formed a very large portion of my childhood. My mom used to read them to me, at a maddeningly slow pace. Each night when I was heading to bed she'd come into my room and we'd painstakingly remove a letter from its envelope. We'd spend nearly as much time looking over the drawings, the postcards, just the gorgeous artwork of each piece. Then the letter would be read.
It was a magical experience, and one I ended up repeating on my own when I was old enough. I spend just as much time examining the script, the art. These books are a work of art, as much as the story in and of itself is. It's a book to fire the imagination, to whet the appetite for more.
This one-of-a-kind trilogy has been waiting for me on my book shelf, moving from one apartment to the next. How could I have waited so long to read this. It's an amazing concept, so beautifully and cleverly done.
I decided to reread this trilogy, having first read it about 15 years ago. Reading it as an adult, the language feels a bit melodramatic, but the experience is still fun. I like the idea of telling a story entirely through correspondence, and using actual postcards and physical letters with envelopes and beautiful artwork makes it that much more immersive and captivating.
The cliffhangers at the ends of the first two books are excellent hooks to entice you to continue with the story, although I was a bit let down by the parts that went unexplained. Specifically, it's never explained how Griffin and Sabine managed to miss each other at the end of the second book, and more significantly, the conclusion of the trilogy feels dissonant with the rest of the story and offers no actual closure. Part of me appreciates Bantock leaving things open-ended, but another part of me is a little annoyed at having to guess what happened in the end. (I know the story continues in subsequent books, but this is marketed as a self-contained trilogy, and the subtitle of the last book literally reads: In Which the Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Concludes.)
I read some analyses after finishing the trilogy this second time, and a decent number of people seem to think that Sabine doesn't actually exist and Griffin has simply lost his marbles. I don't know that I would have come to that conclusion on my own, but I actually prefer this theory to the idea that they simply meet up and start harassing some new person with creepy postcards. The insanity theory gives the book a darker tone and makes you read each letter more critically to look for signs of an unreliable narrator - a device I've always loved in literature. I may just avoid reading the other books to keep that theory alive in my mind, and stick to reading this trilogy every 15 years or so.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I don't even know how to describe these books. It's probably the most unique reading experience you'll ever have, with a story so elusive and yet tangible it defies description. Sabine is a woman in the South Pacific who sends a postcard to Griffin asking for some of his artwork, but he has no idea who she is. Then she reveals a shocking connection the two of them have, and through their letters that span the rest of the book and the two sequels that follow, they fall in love, but keep missing each other, and can't figure out how to connect physically instead of just in words. It's a love story like no other, with gorgeous, gorgeous artwork throughout. Each postcard is handwritten; each letter is in its own envelope and you take the letter right out of the book and read it like you're voyeuristically reading someone else's mail while simultaneously feeling like it was written only for you. Read these books and fall in love in a new and exciting way. I adore this series.
My review echoes so many others; Haunting, compellingly told, achingly romantic, and beautifully illustrated. BUT. There aren't many readers who will put up with so much unresolved - everything. When so much is left unexplained, the reader finds herself feeling like she's been taken for a ride. Manipulated and left hanging out to dry. It's hard not to be frustrated at the end of this.
I'm a big fan of lovers from parallel universes; two of my favorite movies ever; "Somewhere In Time" and "Lady Hawk" deal with lovers who for some reason or another can not be together. I'm okay with that but with Bantock's unfinished tale, I just feel betrayed.
A series of epistolary novels containing the correspondence between Sabine living on an south seas island and Griffin in England. They are both artists and the letters and postcards contain the most exquisite art work, from the gorgeous, and realistic to the macabre and surrealistic. A long distance love grows passionately between these two but they seem doomed to never meet in person. There are elements of supernatural and it seems they are living in parallel worlds. It is a great pleasure to read the beautiful illustrated mail, and the letters are actually in envelopes to be opened by the reader. Remember letters and the enjoyment of receiving a letter in the mail with the familiar handwriting of a friend or relative on the envelope?
Reading the books is like intruding into the private lives of others. A sinister man is added. He knows about the psychic connection between the two lovers who have never met, and how Sabine could see drawings and paintings by Griffin thousands of miles away as he worked.
I had read these books a long time ago when they were first published. I wanted to read them again as I just learned that a final book in the series has just been released on the 25th anniversary of the first Griffin and Sabine book. I will be anxiously awaiting its arrival. Again I found the story in the three books sad, and the illustrations gorgeous. The last postcard in the third book is ambiguous and I still am confused as to its meaning. I hope the new book, The Pharos Gate, will clear this up.
After a search for a certain children's book, I came across illustrator Nick Bantock. I happened to mention to a penpal cousin about a certain set of books that looked enticing and soon after ... the book set landed on my front porch. This was a quick read (a single day), that made me think of mysterious otherworldly connections to other people. A quick satisfying read with plenty to gaze and wonder at, as I pulled their letters out of their envelopes.
This trilogy of multimedia epistolary stories is both simple and complex in its storytelling narrative and technique. It’s use of collage-like elements and tactile materials makes it so fun to handle, and it’s story remains full of intrigue and mystery from beginning to end. It was so captivating I had to read it all in one sitting!
These books have beautiful eclectic illustrations. This love story is told within their postcards and letters. It was fun to open and read someone else's correspondence.
The artwork pushes my rating up by at least a star. Bantock had me at "pop-up book of fake letters," and the illustrations are lovely. The plotline is bit thin, which is less annoying if you think of this trilogy as simply a chance to spy on other people's correspondence, but is undeniably frustrating if you are hoping for answers to all the questions raised in the first volume. What's perhaps the most unsatisfying is that this story builds over three books and then sort of fizzles out on the last page. Part of me appreciates the preservation of some of the mystery at the end, but part of me feels like this is the sort of story that a young, ambitious writer tells--full of symbolism and love and ideas about art, but without enough substance to be truly satisfying. For example, I don't ultimately feel that Griffin and Sabine's letters reveal much about them as people, so sometimes their love story seems a bit shallow to me. I'm not a great letter writer myself, but my letters are generally more full of details about my everyday life and friends and family (and therefore, ultimately more revealing) than Griffin and Sabine's are. Some of this can be hand-waved away through Griffin and Sabine's semi-telepathic connection, or possibly their symbolism as shadow selves or artist(s) and muse(s). The trilogy's ambiguity is both it's saving grace and it's main vexation. But fortunately, the art speaks as much, or more than, the characters, and fills in some gaps in text.
I've been meaning to read these for years. I was very glad I had all three books on hand, since the first two each end on such abrupt cliffhangers.
I loved the premise of taking an epistolary novel to the next level -- the sense of discovery as you match the postcard images to their text, and take each letter out of its envelope, is quite delightful.
The illustrations are, of course, phenomenal.
I also loved the premise of the story, the journey the author takes us on, and the poetic allusions and philosophical underpinnings of it all.
But the ending ... It's hard to bring that kind of story to a satisfactory conclusion, when myth meets reality. Not to mention the logistical difficulties of carrying on the epistolary form when the two characters finally meet. I generally don't mind ambiguous endings that let us make up our own minds, but this one might be asking a bit much of the reader. The epilogue postcard helps, but there are still so many unanswered questions.
(And I know he eventually followed it up with another trilogy, so I'll probably read that one too. Just not right away.)
This book is written in a very unique way. There are letters and postcards in these three books and it makes you feel as if you are secretly reading another person's letters. Throughout the whole trilogy I was hoping Griffin and Sabine would finally meet and complete each others lives, but there is a twist. Neither of them can be with each other and nobody really knows why. In the end, I think they seem to find a way to be with each other. If that is true it's probably because their affection for each other is so strong that it breaks the "wall" that separates them. I still need to read the other books so I could understand what happens more.
I was a bit disappointed by these, to be honest; I'd been wanting to read them for years, but they didn't match up with my expectations. Very short, though; I read all three in less than five hours, and got more caught up in things as it went on. They are fun, and I hope to pass them on to someone who will enjoy them as much as, or hopefully more than, I did. They seem like something that ought to be shared.
I read this trilogy in 1994 and just reread it.... I wish I had more patience for it because I am sure there are some fun 'clues' and images I am missing out on. Reminds me a bit of my December read of 'the 10,000 doors of january'...the artwork is beautiful and the story alluring enough but its time to pass this along. Hoping my reading buddy Mary wants it!
I just read three books in an hour. True, they’re short kid-length books. An epistolary trilogy whose essence I’m at a loss to fully capture. All I can say is the Griffen and Sabine Trilogy by Nick Bantock is a joy to read. Yet, it’s also sad, hopeful, poignant. And so achingly human. I’ll treasure it and read it many times.
The main story that continues from the first book to the third is a love story and yet it’s much more than what any romance genre series offers you. The storyline is deceptively simple because beneath the face it presents lies a complex of conflicting, confusing desires and misgivings.
The love between Griffen and Sabine is laced with loneliness and unbearable longing because they want so desperately to be together but somehow, they never manage to be. When Sabine goes to London, Griffen flies away, first to Dublin, then Florence, and other far-flung destinations. The two have never met in person and they have carried out their love affair only through postcards and letters.
Griffen has fled on purpose. He’s not ready to meet Sabine. Fear is eating at him. Fear of his worthiness. Maybe fear that he can’t endure the happiness and heartache love can bring. And yet, he’s pleading for Sabine’s help.
The interiority of the characters marks the trilogy’s literary pedigree; but it’s a category that can’t accommodate the lovely, whimsical, sometimes surrealistic artwork the characters—who are both artists—adorn the letters and postcards they send each other. By virtue of their illustrations, you could call this trilogy an adult picture book for the child that resides in every adult. But again, you can’t help feeling it’s more than that because its narrative content deals with intricate adult themes.
The publisher classifies the trilogy as multimedia books. Not only are there illustrations on every page, you’ll also find that Sabine’s and Griffen’s missives are very distinctive in style. Sabine always writes in long hand and Grifin either hand prints (postcards) or types (letters). What’s more, all letters are enclosed in envelopes attached to a page. You have to take the letters out to read them. Whimsy, thus, extends beyond the illustrated narrative.
As lovers, Griffen and Sabine are unique, not only because they’re both artists. Sabine is clairvoyant, but of only one thing. In her dreams or in a dream-like state, she sees the artwork Griffen is creating while he’s in the process of doing it. And yet, they’re several thousand miles apart. He’s in London and she’s somewhere in the South Pacific. With this story element, the trilogy hovers on the edge of fantasy. But I prefer to believe it’s the artist-writer’s way of telling you that something soulful or spiritual or magical binds Griffen and Sabine from the beginning (which may be true of everyone who falls in love). But that connection is, at first, obvious only to Sabine who is the more hopeful and confident of the two.
While you could keep on probing into the nuances of the love between Sabine and Griffen, the suspicion intrudes and lingers that Sabene and Griffen are actually two sides of the same person. Griffen seems to realize this (“If I invented you, then you don’t exist.”) But he’s not sure (“If I didn’t write your letters and you did, then you’re real and I’m crazy.”). In that case, you can interpret the novel as an exploration into how we see ourselves, deal with our warring attributes, and make ourselves whole.
On the other hand, don’t we sometimes think of love as uniting two people into one? However you prefer to see this trilogy, it tackles all those human issues in the guise of beguiling picture books.
I think you’ll find these three books—which must be read in sequence to get the full story—as delightful as I did. One that invites you to linger among its pages. They are that rare entity of books as art.
I intended to review each book individually, but I found that neither the second or third book had enough going on to merit separate reviews, so I decided to just review the entire trilogy. My original review for the first book will follow.
I'm glad I experienced Griffin and Sabine - it earns a full three stars for that alone. I'm also glad I paid $6 for the opportunity rather than $30+ (especially considering the roughly 60-90 minute read time between all three books). It's a cute little love story with a unique premise and an exciting format. But the ending is so vague it's nearly maddening. That frustration is compounded by the fact that the entire story leading up to said ending is quite vague and mysterious itself, not to mention ridiculously simple once you reflect back on it. This book is all questions and no answers.
Look - I love the idea: a story told entirely through postcards and physical letters. And the artwork is great, if you consider well-painted but otherwise irrelevant artwork worthwhile (as you'll see in my original review below, I'd hoped that it would eventually be revealed that the artwork was symbolic or held some deeper meaning - this was not the case). But there isn't much meat on the bones here. All things considered, it's hard not to feel somewhat cheated.
I recognize that it's a bit unfair to review this book based on what it should be rather than what it is, but I can't help doing so. I can only review this book in the context of the modern day, and in the modern day, this idea has been expanded upon by other contemporary authors in some pretty exciting ways. I wanted there to be hidden meaning in the artwork. I wanted to perhaps open one envelope to find photographs or little trinkets in addition to a letter. But more than anything, I wanted what every book (epistolary or otherwise) should offer: a really great, compelling story. In my eyes, ,Griffin and Sabine failed on that front. It's easy to ooh and aah about the artwork and the format, and to swoon over the 'lovers doomed never to meet' plot. But with a thin story that peters out ambiguously rather than a substantial one with the confidence to give itself a proper ending, the artwork and the format start to feel like the last thing the author probably wanted them to: a gimmick.
[Original review of book #1: Being a fan of stories that are told using methods other than the typical novel format (see also 'S.' by Doug Dorst and JJ Abrams, and 'House of Leaves' by Mark Danielewski), I'd heard of this series a few years back and promptly forgotten about it.
I stumbled upon the entire trilogy for $2 apiece at my local used bookstore and decided it was more than worth a shot for less than the price of a movie ticket (and, worst case scenario, I could probably double my investment by flipping them as a set on eBay), so here we are.
This first book took no longer than thirty minutes to read in its entirety - probably less than that, in fact. It's certainly an interesting concept that raises far more questions than it answers and that leaves the reader begging for book #2 by the time it's over. Beyond that, there isn't much to say. This book is beautifully constructed but the story is quite vague and definitely feels like the beginning of a story, rather than something that can stand on its own. I feel (and hope) that books 2 and 3 will reveal some new information that make me want to flip this book open and dig through for more information - the artwork on the various postcards and envelopes is surrealist or borderline abstract more often than it isn't, which leads me to believe there's probably some subtle symbolism at play here that I don't currently possess the necessary context in order to understand.
It's hard to really judge this book on its own merits since it so obviously seems like one part of a whole. I'll return and edit this review once I've read the remaining books, assuming I deem that necessary.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Ok, here's my review *before* I read about how anyone else perceived these books:
Weird. But cool. I loved opening the envelopes. The art was so interesting. I was not at all expecting the twist (spoiler alert here) regarding Sabine's authenticity. I enjoyed wondering what would happen. And then . . . . what the?
*****************
So I read other reviews, and I found that PatrickCS said everything I would say about this trilogy: "It's a cute little love story with a unique premise and an exciting format. But the ending is so vague it's nearly maddening. That frustration is compounded by the fact that the entire story leading up to said ending is quite vague and mysterious itself, not to mention ridiculously simple once you reflect back on it. This book is all questions and no answers.
Look - I love the idea: a story told entirely through postcards and physical letters. And the artwork is great, if you consider well-painted but otherwise irrelevant artwork worthwhile (as you'll see in my original review below, I'd hoped that it would eventually be revealed that the artwork was symbolic or held some deeper meaning - this was not the case). But there isn't much meat on the bones here. All things considered, it's hard not to feel somewhat cheated.
I recognize that it's a bit unfair to review this book based on what it should be rather than what it is, but I can't help doing so. I can only review this book in the context of the modern day, and in the modern day, this idea has been expanded upon by other contemporary authors in some pretty exciting ways. I wanted there to be hidden meaning in the artwork. I wanted to perhaps open one envelope to find photographs or little trinkets in addition to a letter. But more than anything, I wanted what every book (epistolary or otherwise) should offer: a really great, compelling story. In my eyes, ,Griffin and Sabine failed on that front. It's easy to ooh and aah about the artwork and the format, and to swoon over the 'lovers doomed never to meet' plot. But with a thin story that peters out ambiguously rather than a substantial one with the confidence to give itself a proper ending, the artwork and the format start to feel like the last thing the author probably wanted them to: a gimmick."
[This review is at great length partly so that I may use it as reference material in the future.]
This brief trilogy most especially appeals for the creativity with which it engages with the medium of the Book. Although probably a closer cousin of the pop-up book and the artist's book, of things like the Futurist Manifesto and The Medium is the Massage and the image-essays of Ways of Seeing, I have my own biases, and I cannot flip through Bantock's trilogy without thoughts of the genre of "experimental literature," classically embodied in Sterne's Tristram Shandy and more recently exemplified by Gass' The Tunnel and Danielewski's House of Leaves.
Bantock has some awareness of this, or at least wears a love of certain writers on his sleeve, paying repeated homage to Yeats (in Griffin's initial London address, in the cat Minnaloushe, in Vereker's friend Maud) and perhaps obliquely referencing Joyce in Griffin's Dublin postcard ("I came to Dublin because it was my grandfather's birthplace & because of the powerful words that have been written here.") and perhaps drawing the name Vereker from Henry James' The Figure in the Carpet, whose theme of secrets held by "lovers supremely united" ties in closely with the implicities in the Griffin & Sabine trilogy. Beyond this, I'm sure there are many other allusions I missed, especially amid all the vaguely mythological and alchemical and Jungian imagery, and there are occasional references to particular visual artists whose mention I was less equipped to appreciate.
This is not primarily experiment in style, though, as in Yeats or Joyce or James, but rather an experiment in the physicality of the book itself, experiment alive with a playful self-consciousness about print media. The story itself is serviceable more than anything else: it is technically a standard epistolary novel of the ilk of Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther, and it is a little cheapened by the awkwardness of Bantock's narrative leaps between each individual book in the trilogy, and even more cheapened by the Frolatti character and the suddenness with which the narrative wraps up, although I'm not sure how else it could have been done, and Bantock's use of Griffin as a mouthpiece for an indirect apology ("I haven't decided what happens next. To tell the truth, I don't know about the story, but I quite like the pictures.") at least suggests that he wasn't oblivious to it.
But these are art books more than narratives, and the art is where the strength lies. The pictures are pretty, yes, and consistently thematically important, sure, but I especially like the manner in which Bantock takes advantage of the two-sidedness of the page with his postcards, each postcard's aesthetic face presented first, to one's right while reading, followed by a disclosure of its written contents to one's left upon turning the page. Each postcard and letter elegantly flows into the next, the message previously sent always sitting beside its yet-undisclosed response. And then there's the endless joy of opening each envelope up and pulling out and unfolding and reorienting each letter, and then afterwards folding it away again. The back cover and inner dust jacket panel blurbs on my copies, as well as a couple of online reviews I glanced over, are stuck fixating on the "somewhat conspiratorial thrill of reading other people's mail" without fully appreciating the delight of participating in the characters' letters as objects, like interactive art exhibits, the story carried by its ephemera (including even typos and written corrections) rather than textually abstracted from it and forced into the format of a typical book.
There is also a great deal of room for subtle detail in such an approach to a story. Most immediately and obviously in the first book is the revelation that Griffin has designed all of the postcards he sends, produced through Gryphon Cards, and that Sabine, aside from the hand-drawing and doodling enmeshed in all of her postcards, works in an official capacity as the "Philatelic Designer" of her islands, and that she has produced all of the stamps on her postcards herself. Similar to this in the second book is the added dynamic of Griffin's internationally drifting postage stamps, and of Sabine's notebook doodling around her postcards (although how does this work: does she not send them to Griffin?—it can't be a notebook collected after the story's events, because the villainous stranger of the third book asks after her notebook).
The subtlety with which some of these details are injected allows the reader to gainfully and enjoyably flip back through the books again and again, reviewing each postcard and letter several times by the end, picking up on more and more each time. Some of these are thematic: of particular importance is the title of each of Griffin's Gryphon Cards cards, progressing in the first book as follows, each passing one increasingly pertaining to the narrative: Drinking Like a Fish, Kangaroo with a Red Hat, The Alchemist, Man Descending a Staircase, Frankie and Johnny, The Blind Leading the Blind, and Pierrot's Last Stand; in the final postcard, sent by Sabine, the heading is "The ceremony of innocence," lent even greater significance by the fact that she had not once sent a heading'd postcard prior.
The visuality of Bantock's approach also allows for a layered recurrence of imagery, for example Griffin's final postcard to Sabine in the third book (heading'd "The Gordian Mirror"—an especially loaded name, Sabine's previously implied role as Griffin's shadow self being made out to be a Gordian Knot) is a directionally and chromatically inverted version of a card he had sent in the beginning of the second book. And then that final postcard closing the trilogy, the synthesis and integration of Griffin and Sabine's styles, Sabine's writing but Griffin's Gryphon Cards logo, and the subtle recurrence of that fish-and-wine-glass image from Griffin's first postcard in book one, lent yet greater significance by Maud's Jungianly informed Tarot reading with Griffin, cards of "Unthinking Drinking, the goldfish escaping from the glass" as well as "the Blind Leading The Blind" appearing and being "emblematic of a number of minor themes, such as escape and rite of passage."
Bantock not only appreciates the Book as a tangible and malleable Object, but also appreciates postcards and letters and envelopes and postage stamps as the same, and weaves the Objecthood of these items into the Objecthood of the Book with smooth panache. At an initial glance and an initial reading it is hard not to describe Bantock's Griffin & Sabine trilogy as "cute," and that cuteness holds out, but there is a depth and seriousness or at least expansive creativity to these books, which, even if they are not "high literature," makes "cute" seem too weak a designate...instead, I'd say that these books are a "delight."
I learned about these books recently from a podcast. The description was brief and only vaguely referenced its premise that one person can see through another’s eyes. The first book in the series begins when someone named Sabine sends Griffin a postcard introducing herself and explaining that for years she had been watching his life develop through his eyes, she sees his hands draw and paint the materials he works with and sees the finished art. Griffin makes his living creating beautiful postcards and Sabine’s correspondence is often on a postcard.
Sabine is also an artist who uses her talent to create a collection of stamps representing her Pacific Island home. She has been seeing Griffin’s work since her teens and decides she must meet him.
This begins a beautiful correspondence between them that continues over several volumes. In these three books, they fall in love on paper but are always a near miss when they try to meet in person. This collection is made of three beautiful books. The paper is thick and rich, silky and bound into a volume to treasure. The story is told in postcards or through actual letters presented in their own envelopes. The art work illustrating the work of both of them is beautiful, striking and requires the reader to experience them in touch as well as in the words. I had never heard of this series before and I am so glad my introduction came is these three lovely volumes and I look forward to searching for the later volumes in this series.
This was my second reading, the first time being over 10 years ago. I loved the concept of reading a book through letters, postcards, and artwork. Some of the letters were real that you would pull out of an envelope and the postcards were just represented on the page. The artwork was beautiful but somewhat dark reminiscent of Dali.
The story left me with a lot of questions. Was Sabine (the mysterious woman who lived on an island in the South Pacific and could see Griffin's art telepathically) real or a creation of Griffin's (Griffin, a lonely depressed artist in London). I couldn't buy into the paralallel universe option put forth. The ending was incomplete and a bit frustrating. But with that said, it was so much fun to read.
It's the 25th Anniversary of Nick Bantock's "The Griffin and Sabine Trilogy" - a gorgeous and "extraordinary correspondence." A truly voyeuristic look into the characters lives - as the pair discover each other, you discover them by taking out and reading letters and postcards complete with envelopes and stamps. It's a physical experience of the book, a rare thing for an adult. A mystery, a love story, an unreliable narrator - Mr. Bantock is an intriguing storyteller and artist (he is the illustrator as well as author).
This is such an unusual and thoroughly enjoyable trilogy that I almost don't mind that it ends in as much mystery as it began. Each postcard and letter is a miniature work of art, a pleasure to the eye as well as to the mind. I'll be ordering the second trilogy, The Morning Star Trilogy, as well as The Pharos Gate soon.
In the meantime, I'm considering how I might use the idea of a series of correspondences for a personal project that could become a writing assignment for my high school studens or a challenge for our creative writing club members.
3 stars pushed up to 4 for the beautiful presentation. The letters and post cards are delightful and well designed, and the whole package makes for a really interesting reading experience, but