
Arthur Rackham:
Masterpieces of Art
by Joseph Simas.
Flame Tree Publishing, 2015.
A treasured book in my childhood – unfortunately no longer in my possession – was The Arthur Rackham Fairy Book, a hardback first published in 1933 with “23 favourite tales” and a full-colour dust jacket labelled ‘Hop-o’-my-thumb went up to the Ogre softly and pulled off his seven-league boots.’
That selection of fairytales ranged from traditional English tales through Grimm, Perrault, Andersen, and even Washington Irving, to the Arabian Nights, and featured full-page colour illustrations by Rackham, with some black and white pen and ink vignettes and silhouettes peppered through the text.
Forever nostalgic for a missing childhood gem I therefore pounced on this art book when I spotted it in the library to help ease the ache of loss; and a delightful romp through the range of Rackham’s œuvre it certainly proved.

Joseph Simas (“Actor, Author, Director, Screenwriter, Translator and Voice Artist”) characterises Rackham (1867–1939) as “clerk, artist, goblin master”. It’s true Arthur trained and practised for many years as a clerk in the Westminster Fire Office, but his first and only true love was art, especially pen and ink drawings and watercolours. Though it’s possible to disparage the man as “merely” a book illustrator I agree with Simas that Rackham’s work is that of an artist, his images worthy to be exhibited in their own right.

After an introductory essay – in an eye-straining small typeface, regretfully – Simas dedicates the rest of this picture book to the artist’s illustrations under five broad headings: children’s books; fables, legends and works by Shakespeare; operas and poetry; novels and short stories; and, finally, fairy tales. And a generous selection is what we get under each category, typically a score of examples, each full page, full colour (even many of the silhouettes) and annotated, with line drawings reserved for the introductory essay, often two or three to each page.
So, what can we expect? In the first category we have images from Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, Kipling’s Puck of Pool Hill, the first Alice book, The Wind in the Willows and much else; the second includes The Ingoldsby Legends, incidents in Shakespeare’s plays, Aesop’s Fables and Arthurian legend.

The text of Wagner’s operas in translation allowed Rackham to show his intimate knowledge of the music dramas in Götterdämmerung, here shown side by side with scenes from British ballads and Milton’s masque Comus; while collectively Irving, Swift, Dickens and Goldsmith have a section dedicated to depictions of their stories.
Finally, the fairytale section not only demonstrates Rackham’s ability to evoke childhood delights and fears associated with the likes of Jack and the Beanstalk, Bluebeard and other folktales but also his mastery of the different demands of perspective and of two-dimensional silhouette technique.

Simas bestows on Rackham the epithet goblin master; of course the artist was fully alert to the delicious frisson of what has been described as “the intimate stranger” whom we store within our psyches, and the monsters, imps, ogres, and giants that rampage through the books he embellished are all that the youngster in each one of us secretly yearns to confront.¹
But we have to feel that we retain the capacity to defeat or conquer that intimate stranger, so Rackham is careful to offer us, especially in the fairytales, an image of the vanquisher in the form of Jack, Beauty, or Sir Launcelot.

So what is it about Rackham’s work that particularly appeals to me? Is it the tonal palette of subtle muted shades so typical of watercolours, which somehow suggests antiquity and tradition that a more garish modern palette would totally dispel? Is it the mastery of composition which first draws the eye to its true focus, but then allows us to wander at will to gorge on sumptuous details elsewhere in the picture? Could it be the contrast between the deliberately grotesque and the delicately delineated features and shape of the innocent that especially charms?
Of course it is all these and more that bring me back to devouring these pictures, from the witch climbing up Rapunzel’s rope-like tress to Ichabod Crane straining against the wind, from pale pellucid skies to leering coppiced trees, from Cinderella’s sisters in outline to the plethora of rich textures in Bluebeard’s castle or the rose garden of the Beast. “Masterpieces of art” they are indeed, and I’m not the first nor the last to be totally enchanted by Rackham’s visions.

¹ In Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s Of Giants: Sex, monsters, and the Middle Ages, reviewed here: https://wp.me/s2oNj1-giants
Note. Only one or two of the illustrations in this review appear in this book: but there are so many examples I could have chosen that I mostly selected those already in my blog gallery.
It sounds like a marvellous collection – aren’t those illustrations stunning!!
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I’ve had to return this particular title to the library, but I may have to now locate a replacement copy of my childhood book for that dip into the well of nostalgia!
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Nice! I was obsessed with Rackham, I need to see which books I have illustrated by him.
I think it’s Aesop fables. I will check and let you know.
You captured him here: So what is it about Rackham’s work that particularly appeals to me? Is it the tonal palette of subtle muted shades so typical of watercolours, which somehow suggests antiquity and tradition that a more garish modern palette would totally dispel? Is it the mastery of composition which first draws the eye to its true focus, but then allows us to wander at will to gorge on sumptuous details elsewhere in the picture? Could it be the contrast between the deliberately grotesque and the delicately delineated features and shape of the innocent that especially charms?
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Thanks, Silvia, hope you find your Aesop’s Fables edition! The reasons you give for the appeal of Rackham’s work are exactly the same for me – the subtlety of the watercolours, the composition, the contrasts – and it’s that totality that’s the absolute winner for me.
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Fascinating! I still have an old hardback edition of A Christmas Carol illustrated by Arthur Rackham and his pictures really add something special to the story.
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They do, don’t they! So many classic fairytales to me are inseparable from Rackham’s fairytale collection’s watercolours, and his line drawings often appear in other fairy-related titles (such as A Dictionary Of Fairies by Katharine Briggs).
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So touching that image of Peter Pan as a little shivering baby.
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I agree, he was good at capturing individual emotions through facial expressions and body posture often just using simple strokes. Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens lent itself well to melancholy and delight though straying towards sentimentality at times.
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Love Arthur Rackham’s drawings! Another brilliant Arthur. As I tell my son, Arthur…
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He has a lot to live up to having a name that’s so resonant with legend, history, tradition… 🙂
Another Arthur will I hope feature here soon, Arthur Machen – as a Welsh writer he couldn’t help but be aware of what was expected from someone who bore such an illustrious name!
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I do worry I’ve done that to my Arthur, telling him I named him after the once and future king! Fortunately he’s quite grounded, likes the Arthur Pendragon story, myths and folk tales. For him that’s found that Epic world in modern tales like The Last of Us based on a computer game.
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I’ve heard of the TV version of The Last of Us but as we don’t have a HBO subscription it’s not something I’m watching. I did like Pedro Pascal in The Mandalorian though, he did exude gravitas in that – despite being in full body armour!
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What a wonderful collection. And I certainly agree you should track down a copy of your lost childhood book if that will make you happy!
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Hmm, Am*z*n is listing hardback copies for around £25.00 – I may have better luck doing a round of secondhand bookshops though, so perhaps next time I’m in Hay-on-Wye!
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Fairy and folk tales are so gruesome. I know children relish death, disaster, and destruction but I found them all too nightmarish. I still do. (What an unimaginative wimp!)
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I get where you’re coming from, Josie, though needless to say I’m at the opposite pole! Though the gamut of folk- and fairytales is vast, the classic fairytale may have extremely disquieting features – dismemberment, cruelty, violence for example – its propensity for euchatastrophe, the happy ending, is not only appealing but also comforting for most readers and listeners. Good wins over evil, the guilty are punished horrendously, the innocent and virtuous are rewarded while nightmares are banished.
But not all fairytales are the same, and Andersen’s and Wilde’s literary tales can be particularly melancholy and heartbreaking, the euctastrophe either not materialising or else arriving in an unexpected or not entirely satisfying form. Avoid those when feeling wimpish!
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What a wonderful volume this is. I’ve encountered and loved Rackham’s illustrations of Shakespeare, some of the fairy tales and I think Puck of Pook’s Hill before, but this gives one a taste of all of his work and I think would be a marvellous one to have. Hope you do manage to track down a copy of the Fairy Book.
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I did a quick check online just now, I hadn’t realised Rackham had illustrated the Kipling book but I’d love to see a copy of that! I’m sure I’ll get round to acquiring the Fairy Book sometime, hopefully before my dotage kicks in. 😁
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Aaaah, I love Rackham’s illustrations – definitely played a part of my childhood reading too. ❤
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It’s wonderful how so many generations have grown up under the spell of Rackham’s art – let’s hope that continues!
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