Architecture, Medieval Art, Anthropological Art, Children's books
"In a strangely heart-warming story, a duck strikes up an unlikely friendship with Death. Death, Duck and the Tulip will intrigue, haunt and enchant readers of all ages. Simple, unusual, warm and witty, this book deals with a difficult subject in a way that is elegant, straightforward, and thought-provoking."
Death is universal, but the human response to death varies widely. In Western society, death is usually medicalized and taboo, and kept apart from the world of the living, while in much of the rest of the world, and for much of human history, death has commonly been far more integrated into peoples’ daily existence, and human remains are as much a reminder of life, memento vitae, as of death, memento mori.
Through photos taken at more than 250 sites in thirty countries over a decade, Paul Koudounaris has captured death around the world.
Everybody Dies is"Ken Tanaka’s children’s book for grown-ups—a macabre and darkly humorous look at mortality.
In Everybody Dies, Internet icon Ken Tanaka explores the myriad ways in which we all can meet our fate. Echoing the grim fun of Edward Gorey’s beloved Gashlycrumb Tinies, he tells his simply illustrated story in 48 pages of saturated, full-color pictures featuring chunky letters and warm colors, and frank, pointedly sardonic commentary. From a surfing tragedy to being devoured by wild animals, the pestilence of war, and demise by convenience machine, he helps us face the stark reality of “the end” with dark humor and irreverent wit."
The Empire of Death is a photography book about ossuaries and charnel houses shot by Paul Koudounaris (also the author of Memento Mori). He went to more than seventy sites to obtain all the pictures and analyzes the role of these remarkable memorials within the cultures that created them, as well as the mythology and folklore that developed around them, and skillfully traces a remarkable human endeavor. The sites range from the Monastery of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Palermo, where the living would visit mummified or skeletal remains and lovingly dress them; to the Paris catacombs; to fantastic bone-encrusted creations in Austria, Cambodia, the Czech Republic, Ecuador, Egypt, Germany, Greece, Italy, Peru, Portugal, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Switzerland, and elsewhere.
"The idea of photographing the dead is as old as photography itself. For the most part, early death photographs were commissioned or taken by relatives of the deceased and preserved in the home as part of the family collection. Once thought inappropriate and macabre, today these photographs are considered to have a beneficial role in bereavement therapy.
Photography and Death reveals the beauty and significance of such images, formerly dismissed as disturbing or grotesque, and places them within the context of changing cultural attitudes towards death and loss. Excluding images of death through war, violence, or natural disasters, Audrey Linkman concentrates on photographs of natural deaths within the family."
Can't We Talk about Something More Pleasant? is Roz Chast's first memoir. She "brings her signature wit to the topic of aging parents. Spanning the last several years of their lives and told through four-color cartoons, family photos, and documents, and a narrative as rife with laughs as it is with tears, Chast's memoir is both comfort and comic relief for anyone experiencing the life-altering loss of elderly parents." It was a 2014 National Book Award Finalist and New York Times Bestseller.
"If you're a dinosaur, all of your friends are dead. If you're a pirate, all of your friends have scurvy. If you're a tree, all of your friends are end tables. Each page of this laugh-out-loud illustrated humor book showcases the downside of being everything from a clown to a cassette tape to a zombie. Cute and dark all at once, this hilarious children's book for adults teaches valuable lessons about life while exploring each cartoon character's unique grievance and wide-eyed predicament. From the sock whose only friends have gone missing to the houseplant whose friends are being slowly killed by irresponsible plant owners (like you), All My Friends Are Dead presents a delightful primer for laughing at the inevitable."