The Doubtful Guest

We bought this small 1957 gem by Edward Gorey for our oldest daughter when she was little, though she is only now old enough to fully appreciate it. We laughed at its oddity and randomness. We were charmed by the title character, though grateful he didn't live at our house.

And yet, he does. As I revisit it now, I see that the story is something of an allegory of raising a child. Not a complete match, for the guest never speaks, but similar enough to bring some deeper meaning to the strange tale. It's like a dispassionate observer's condensed account of the first 17 years.

Tearing out whole chapters from books? I've seen that. Seemingly deaf to whatever I say? Hmmm. I know several little "guests" in my house who would gladly eat all of the syrup and toast, though they usually stop short of the plate. Every page has a thing or two that I, my siblings, or my children have been known to do. Vanish for hours? I remember that time we found my older sister asleep under her bed... after much searching. I was the one who peeled my shoes. Now, where has my bedside alarm clock gone...?

If you have this Gorey classic, give it another read-through, preferably aloud to your spouse (pausing to show the pictures, of course). If you don't, check it out at the library or bookstore for an amusing, slightly bemusing story.