Faeries

By Brian Foud

Faeries is my all-time favourite book. it’s not your normal novel in any sense of the word – it’s definitely fiction, but it’s also kind of an art book. Froud is probably most known throughout the world for this book in particular. But many of you may recognise his work from The Labyrinth (yeah, that one movie mainly featuring David Bowie’s crotch in the 1980s). Froud designed all the costuming and creatures and goblins for it. He’s a creative genius and an amazingly talented artist with a greatly imaginative mind.

First, the most appealing and attractive thing about Froud’s work is his fantastical art. His paintings and illustrations, which make up about 50 per cent of the book, are absolutely stunning. He manages to combine creepy, goofy, realistic and cartoony all in the same book without it seeming tacky – he takes it all in his stride. He illustrates all of his writing himself and the art is amazing. Froud uses acrylic, watercolour, pencil sketches, ink – anything you can think of, really – and it’s all used with great skill. The art is clever and interesting. I mean, it’s not particularly high art and I wouldn’t argue that he says anything deep or meaningful with his works, but it’s certainly great to look at and get lost in.

It’s kind of aimed at children, but also kind of not. There are a few naked faeries featured. Actually, I remember a strictly religious family member came over once, saw this book on my parents’ coffee table, and proceeded to scold them over giving me pornography. But, really, it’s very innocent and it’s not like anything is spread eagle and staring you down. Just the occasional tit, bum or a squiggly-looking penis.

The part that I am mostly obsessed with is the writing. As a fairy-tale and folklore addict, his collection of traditional folklore around faeries is my idea of heaven. The book covers everything from describing the faerie realm and courts to creatures such as pixies, hags and goblins. In a sense the book acts like a fictional encyclopaedia of faeries – but all the information is pulled together from a history of faerie tales and folklore and not just made up. Froud references a plethora of other writers and artists, including the likes of Shakespeare and Walter Scott.

Part of his writing is expressed through big, scrawling, messy handwriting that really helps aid in the image of Froud as a friendly grandparent informing his grandchildren of the magical world that really does, honest-to-god, exist hidden from us. (What I would give for Faeries to be real ... ) Furthermore, it kind of adds to the idea of this actually being some comprehensive collection of field notes that Froud has gathered to educate us with. He tells you in the introduction that faeries will either “accept you as part of their world, or they won’t” – he explains that “sometimes no amount of mooning around in misty forest glades or communing with nature at the bottom of the garden ... will bring about anything other than a general sense of damp.” Froud’s tone is delightful and entertaining – he’s begging you to believe in this world, but not so much so that you think he actually believes in it himself. It’s wonderful.

Overall, this book is light and easily read (although it’s physically massive – A4 and about an inch thick). This is the kind of book that you pick up if a) you’re a big nerd like me and like reading about fantasy and folklore, or b) you really want to see some gorgeous drawings. Let’s just be honest here: I’m a Froud fan-girl and I’m trying to convert you.
This article first appeared in Issue 27, 2014.
Posted 11:58pm Sunday 12th October 2014 by Anonymous Bird.