Filled with art featuring death (for the most part that means a skeleton... spooky, no?) taunting the living. The reproductions vary in quality from good to barely legible. Mostly the former. Interspersed with the images is the occasional paragraph of word salad from the author. I suspect English isn't Fritz's first language. The book closes with a wonderful suite of a dozen or so wood engravings by Eichenburg. Not the most informative book on art, but certainly pretty to look at.
Obnoxious essay, reproductions ranging from solid to awful, and abysmal poetry, but the odd illustrations are mostly otherwise difficult to find. Frustrating as much as enjoyable.