The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities: Exhibits, Oddities, Images, and Stories from Top Authors and Artists

The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities: Exhibits, Oddities, Images, and Stories from Top Authors and Artists

Language: English

Pages: 286


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The death of Dr. Thackery T. Lambshead in 2003 at his house in Wimpering-on-the-Brook, England, revealed an astonishing discovery: the remains of a remarkable cabinet of curiosities.

A carefully selected group of popular artists and acclaimed, bestselling fantasy authors has been assembled to bring Dr. Lambshead’s cabinet of curiosities to life. Including contributions from Alan Moore, Lev Grossman, Mike Mignola, China MiÉville, Cherie Priest, Carrie Vaughn, Greg Broadmore, Naomi Novik, Garth Nix, Michael Moorcock , Holly Black, Jeffrey Ford, Ted Chiang, and many more.

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unsubstantiated conjecture by Menard and Trimble that somehow the abbott conveyed his own seeming good health upon the Viking, as a way of saving the island, and that the monks then sought some way to avoid a similar catastrophe in future by creating an artifact that could, without a similar later sacrifice, perform the same function. 2. Later investigation would uncover nine reports from fishermen claiming to have found a castaway floating in the remains of a broken boat. Each report described

nascent spaceshop nee Ark,” with a front view of Lambshead’s house beneath it. The most popular of other apocryphal theories originated with the performance artist Sam Van Olffen, who, since 1989, has seemed fixated on Lambshead and staged several related productions. The most grandiose, the musical The Mad Cabinet of Curiosities of the Mad Dr. Lambshead, debuted in 2008 in Paris and London, well after Lambshead’s death. Perhaps the most controversial of Van Olffen’s speculations is that

Father Walter. “I was lost among the dunes and then I saw a faint light issuing up from what appeared in the dark to be a small crater. I thought a falling star had struck the earth.” “It’s just the church of Saint Ifritia,” said the father. “You have news of Sister North?” “Yes, Father, I have a confession to make.” Father Walter led the pilgrim to the front pew and motioned for the gentleman to sit while he took a seat on the steps of the altar. “Okay,” he said, “out with it.” “My name is

of a cricket ball instead of an incendiary; only friendly, with nothing to remark upon. The trench had scarcely been dug. Dirt shook loose down upon them, until they might have been part of the earth, and when the all-clear sounded at last out of a long silence, they stood up still equals under a coat of mud, until Russell bent down and picked up the shovel, discarded, and they were again officer and man. But this came too late: Edward trudged back with him, side by side, to the more populated

word from me that you are agreeable to this arrangement. Those passages you quoted from Balfour’s Cultes des Goules are grim enough to rattle the nerves of even an old skeptic like myself. . . . Excerpt from “Artifact, Artifice, and Innuendo” by Tyrus Jovanovich, Art Lies: A Contemporary Art Quarterly (no. 62, Summer 2009): . . . and so have allowed questions of biological and historical “authenticity” to dominate the discussion. Insistent, unrelenting authority intervenes, and we are not

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