1st edition, SIGNED by author on half title page. FINE in FINE Dust Jacket, Hardcover, Mylar protected. This is an UNREAD copy in MINT condition. The extraordinary correspondence of Griffin & Sabine is rediscovered.
Nick was schooled in England and has a BA in Fine Art (painting). He has authored 25 books, 11 of which have appeared on the best seller lists, including 3 books on The New York Times top ten at one time. Griffin & Sabine stayed on that list for over two years. His works have been translated into 13 languages and over 5 million have been sold worldwide. Once named by the classic SF magazine Weird Tales as one of the best 85 storytellers of the century. He has written articles and stories for numerous international newspapers and magazines. His Wasnick blogs are much followed on Facebook and Twitter. His paintings, drawings, sculptures, collages and prints have been exhibited in shows in UK, France and North America. In 2010 Nick's major retrospective exhibition opened at the MOA in Denver. His works are in private collections throughout the world. Nick has a lifetime BAFTA (British Oscar) for the CD-ROM game Ceremony of Innocence, created with Peter Gabriel's Real World, featuring Isabella Rossolini and Ben Kingsley. He has two iPad apps, Sage and The Venetian and is working on a third. Three of his books have been optioned for film and his stage play based on the Griffin & Sabine double trilogy premiered in Vancouver in 2006.
Produced artwork for more than 300 book covers (including works by Roth and Updike), illustrated Viking Penguin's new translation of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. He's designed theater posters for the London plays of Tom Stoppard and Alec Guinness.
For 20 years Bantock has spoken and read to audiences throughout North America, Europe and Australia. Given keynote and motivational speeches to corporations and teachers state conferences. He's given dramatic readings on the radio and the stage and has been interviewed (way too many times) for TV, radio and print.
Bantock has worked in a betting shop in the East End of London, trained as a psychotherapist, designed and built a house that combined an Indonesian temple and a Russian orthodox church with an English cricket pavilion and a New Orleans bordello. Between 2007 and 2010 was one of the twelve committee members responsible for selecting Canada's postage stamps.
Among the things Bantock can't do: Can't swim, never ridden a horse, his spelling is dreadful and his singing voice is flat as a pancake.
There are many ways to perceive books and review them. But there aren't many books that are anything like the Griffin & Sabine trilogy. I don't believe one can apply the same critiques to this mystical, magical realm of literature.
For this is not only one story. Rather, these are stories within stories. And if one were to think of it, so is life. Stories within stories with no real sense of an end. There is a reason for that also - an ending is merely our perception of where things stand. However, if one were to be so brave as to imagine that nothing ever truly begins nor, consequently need to end, we cease looking for a linear structure to the books we read and love, or to life.
My suggestion is this: do not look for the mundane. You will find it. Wait for nothing. Everything reveals itself. And do not expect the unexpected. You are ruining your own surprise. Float. Sink. Let go. And you will fall in love with this book.
I positively adore the first three books of the Griffin and Sabine saga. They're beautiful, romantic, ethereal, and weird, and I catch myself idly thinking about their story whenever I'm on a long walk or drive. They invite romanticization. They're steeped in it. And taking them for what they are (90s performance art that long precedes the cultural reevaluation we've undertaken in the West the past 10 years or so) is important to the enjoyment of their story. I can let myself check some of my how-we-should-consume-media baggage at Griffin and Sabine's door. They're art books, and feel like personal expressions of Nick Bantock, which is fitting, since he envelops us in an intrusion on the personal expressions of his two characters. The first three books are short, and while maybe not "sweet," definitely thoughtful, and none of the three overstay their welcome. If anything, the story is almost a hair too abridged, but I think their brevity serves to highlight the magic of what a reader's imagination can do with what it's given.
However. There's a longer conversation to be had about English Imperialism and the weird pseudo cultural appropriation of Griffin and Sabine. These issues are easier to ignore in the first trilogy, but the Hydra rears its heads more intensely in The Gryphon.
The Morning Star Trilogy follows the correspondence, as in the subtitle, of Griffin and Sabine being unearthed, read, and analyzed by a new pair of long-distance, postcard-prone, emotionally-reserved lovers. The plot's premise nearly feels like meta-commentary on readers of the original three novels; how many young, long-distance couples do you think read Griffin and Sabine and subsequently bonded over attempting their own postal love stories?
There is one particular letter that bothered me, delivered from the new female lead, Isabella, to the new male lead, Matthew. The envelope itself is adorned with Old Testament-esque scenic regalia, with temples, ibises, and people swimming among reeds and riverboats covering its front. The letter inside is only a simple front-and-back page, handwritten, but notably accompanied by a picture of a nude woman of color swathed with necklaces and an elaborate headdress. While Isabella treats the woman with respect, acknowledging that it is not of her and admiringly noting that the woman looks "proud and beautiful," she goes on to say that she wishes that's how Matthew would see her in his eyes. Matthew, an English-speaking archaeologist (whom I surmise to be white due to Bantock's being white and not saying otherwise), is requested by Isabella, a white (we know this from a description Matthew gives of her a letter before) female student at a French university–a position of privilege–that he imagine her as "exotic, bejeweled," with "hair and body gleaming with aromatic oils," just as he sees in the photograph. A photograph, again, that she emphatically acknowledges is not her, but may as well be for that is how she wants Matthew to picture her.
Furthermore, Bantock places Isabella's Parisian address on "Rue Maspero," a street named for Gaston Maspero, a French Egyptologist who, while undoubtedly appreciative and respectful of Ancient Egyptian culture as far as its historical and aesthetic value, was renowned for allowing the trade and export of Egyptian artifacts by private collectors during his tenure as director of The Service of Antiquities. That is a gross abuse of a position of archaeological responsibility and not entirely a fossil of its time; apparently, later Directors of the SoA were bemoaned for not allowing the collectors free reign of artifacts as Maspero did.
I bring this information up to say that The Gryphon has a bit of an issue with its cultural boundaries. I think the parallel between Isabella/Matthew and Maspero is extremely clear, even beyond the mere Egyptologist allusion Bantock had probably intended, and that's unfortunate. A white woman wanting to be seen as a romanticized Egyptian Queen at her leisure in the mind's eye of her boyfriend, with whom she only corresponds with via written post, a non-visual medium, is ...odd. It makes what Matthew himself is doing, excavating Egyptian artifacts, seem more vulgar than it is. Matthew should be contributing to the common historical record through careful excavation of relics from a vanquished culture, but instead, partakes in fetishizing the historical record with his académe girlfriend. He is just as culpable, even as Isabella states her fixation directly, as shown in his letters to her when he describes being so distracted by thoughts of her that he drops and dents a "valuable amulet." Two members of academic society, committed to studying and appreciating history, abandoning respect of that study for the other's titillation. The two are using a foreign culture to exoticize their own love story, and that makes me mildly uncomfortable. This would be a different story if pointing out that theme seemed to be the goal of Bantock's art, but I don't think that's the case. He's focused on the love story, but not the ramification of the means of getting there.
I mentioned that I do not have an issue with the romanticization inherent in the original three books because those books do seem to be about something more. Their story follows a lonely white British man possibly conjuring up someone "exotic" to fall in love with. But in Griffin's case, it's a character study. Sabine is exotic in the sense of her being uniquely different in every way from his mundane, grey, London surroundings. She's symbolic of the intrigue and excitement of what a man like Griffin imagines life outside his own to be. He, alone and pathetic, imagines a mysterious, beautiful woman from a faraway, imaginary place to magically fall into his life. That the woman is a woman of color, and that the "faraway place" is in the Pacific ocean, is less a problematic choice of Bantock's and more a telling choice of Griffin's. Bantock pulls no punches presenting Griffin in all his self-pitying (and then self-discovering) glory. It's his story, and while that particular perspective is one we don't need to see any more of in 2021, as I said at the top of the hour, it's a product of the mid-1990s. I can see and appreciate it while acknowledging that Griffin's particular brand of character should probably be phased out today. And furthermore, in The Gryphon, Griffin's voice is hardly heard at all. He and Sabine appear to have merged into a single epistolary entity, but it's Sabine's hand and Sabine's voice and Sabine's experiences that predominantly control their Janusian persona. Griffin's art, to be fair, is the more prominently depicted, but none of his pieces in this book captured my heart and mind like they did in the first three. Sabine, in other words, has the agency in this new story, retroactively improving her responsive, reactive role in the last.
This goes to show that the issues may not even be with the book itself, but with its characters. The Griffin and Sabine of The Morning Star Trilogy are the same as they were in their eponymous work. Isabella and Matthew–that is to say, Bantock–have no excuse.
HOWEVER, even with all that complaining, my read of this book still has four stars. It is a gorgeous work of art. The writing is still enticing, the novelty of opening the cards and letters is still there. The plot trends a bit too heady and conceptual from time to time, and in combination with its weaker character arcs, I wouldn't be totally surprised if the Morning Star story goes off the rails a little bit in the next two volumes. For now, it remains a magic trick successfully masquerading as a 4 star read, but we'll see. The next act may reveal it as a 3. And in any case, these books are meant to be read and re-read. They're pieces of visual art that can be returned to years later and still have new meanings and detail to unearth.
It's not a great sign that, so far, I would much rather revisit Griffin and Sabine's letters myself than I would read about two characters doing it for me, but all-in-all, this Gryphon manages to fly on its own.
So this is the 1st book of the second trilogy... I really enjoyed it, I can't believe I actually own a copy autographed by the creative genius himself.
I have to say that I like the mystery, but I'm not really into symbols or mythology so that part of the book is kind of lost on me. I think that would be better left to another one of our favourite fictional characters: Robert Langdon. (ha ha)
My only complaint is that I really can't figure out if Sabine is evil or these people are all crazy or something. I mean, (spoiler alert), in the very first book I was totally creeped out by Sabine, especially at the ending because of the lack of stamps/postage/address... all that. And Griffin just seems so vulnerable. I came around on Sabine in the second two books, but by the beginning of the Gryphon/end of the Golden Mean, she totally creeps me out again with the postcard she sends to Matthew. Where is Griffin?? I keep thinking either she is a mass murderer, or that this really is a mystical symbolic book and she and Griffin really have become the same person. I am worried for Griffin because if this isn't some big symbology story, he "reappears" in the middle of the Gryphon, but his handwriting is Sabine's..... And by the end of the book I'm back on the original side of the fence with Sabine totally creeping me out again. Maybe the whole plot with Frolotti was just so she could murder Griffin?? She does have a temper (aka "foolish man. you cannot turn me into a phantom just because you are frightened.")
My final bet really is that Griffin is crazy and these people are all an invention of his mind.
I guess I shall just have to get the 2nd two books of the 2nd trilogy and figure it all out. (But knowing Nick Bantock, there won't really be an ending to all this.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
My high school art teacher introduced me to Griffin and Sabine in the mid-90s. She had the first three books, all that existed at the time, and I was swiftly swept away not only by the story—and the romance of it all—but the artistry and ingenuity behind the series. I’m not sure when I became aware that Bantock had written more but it took me until now to get around to tracking this down so I could continue on. Maybe there was a small part of me that wanted to hold on to that precious memory of discovering Griffin and Sabine back then and not let anything disturb it.
Griffin and Sabine were published between 1991 and 1993. The Gryphon came around in 2001 and it’s the first book in the Morning Star trilogy, a continuation of Griffin and Sabine’s story that centers around new characters Isabella and Matthew. Matthew is an archaeologist studying in Egypt, while Isabella studies at a university in Paris. Their relationship is recent and while email does exist, Isabella requests they write postcards while they’re apart for the romanticism and because her computer is really old.
Our epistolary adventure begins when Sabine contacts Matthew out of the blue. Matthew has never met her but Sabine bequeaths her and Griffin’s correspondence so that Matthew will help them. I’m not clear on how he’s going to do that. In some ways, Matthew and Isabella seem like a new iteration of Griffin and Sabine. There are some key differences: Matthew and Isabella already knowing each other, along them. But Isabella also has shadow sight and she needs answers which Griffin says he can provide.
This doesn’t stand well on its own. While it’s been a couple of decades since I last revisited the original trilogy, I remembered enough to orient me back into this world. Without that, I would have been hopelessly confused. This is building toward something but it’s not a very solid arc for a first installment. However, I’m definitely interested in how it will come together. The artwork was stunning per usual and I remain delighted by the experience of reading the postcards and letters. The letters are my favorite, simply for the novelty of pulling them out of the envelope.
As this was published in 2001, not all aged well. (It’s possible the same issues exist in the original trilogy but it’s been too long since I read them.) There’s a heavy thread of imperialism and cultural appropriation throughout the story. Perhaps not entirely surprising given Matthew’s work but this ethos permeates all the characters. The most jarring instance happened when Isabella sent Matthew a picture of a naked Asian or Egyptian woman, saying she wished he saw her this way and described the woman as exotic. Isabella also describes someone as an “oriental”…surely that term wasn’t in use in 2001 as well?? I was shocked by it. There was a joke about rushing the cabin on a plane, something that hits very differently after 9/11.
I don’t have high hopes for the next two books evading these issues so we’ll see what I wind up thinking. It’s unfortunate Bantock went the imperialistic route with parts of the story but I remain captivated by the art and format, as well as the larger mystery of what connects the characters and where the hell Griffin and Sabine actually are.
(I didn’t track CWs for this but the biggest issues are detailed in the review.)
I can only imagine the subtitle to this fourth book in the Griffin & Sabine 'trilogy' should read, 'In Which Daddy Needs a New Pair of Shoes.' This just feels more like an unnecessary addition than the previous two, as those were at least kind of wrapping up the mystery of what was going on between the correspondents. This one takes its lead from the quizzical final postcard of The Golden Mean, and spins it into a new correspondence. Now, it's chiefly between Matthew Sedon in Egypt and his (fairly new) lover Isabella de Reims in Paris, but there's Griffin & Sabine in there writing to both of the above about some connection they share. The nature of the connection isn't made explicit, but Matthew's birth was witnessed by Sabine and Isabella has 'waking dreams,' so it seems like it must be similar to that between Griffin & Sabine. It's likewise not clarified how Sabine first gets Matthew's address while he's in Kenya, but I suppose nitpicking like that really has no place in such a vague and mystical story. The letters between Matthew and Isabella are genuinely charming, and read like those which might genuinely pass between two ardent, new lovers with geography separating them. Those from Griffin & Sabine, to either party, are so outlandishly strange that they would seem to have been written by Bantock on a bender, assuming that he'd fix it all when he designed the postcards & envelopes. The art this time around is much more simple and traditional on the whole, mainly because the core correspondence is not between artists but between an archaeologist and a zoologist (?). So, if it's not Griffin or Sabine writing, the cards are basically what you might expect produced for actual postcarding, often like ones from a flea market (as Isabella states hers are). Everything here seems taken down a notch except the strangeness. That is amped up to 11, and the ending of the book brings no kind of end at all. I suppose when this came out, Bantock already knew he was on board for at least one more. Personally, he could have stopped before this, but we'll see what Alexandria offers.
While the artwork continues to be great and the format enchanting, these last three make me impatient for the end. They got weirder and not in a way I enjoyed. Also, I found it frustrating that all of these "love letters" are filled with what appears to be lust and little more. Okay, that was maybe too harsh, but I did want more talk about the meat of why they loved each other instead of the anticipation or remembrance of sex or being physically together.
I don't like questions that are asked for the sake of being asked. I have a horror of J.J. Abrams, who I avoid at all costs. That's all this book is. Look how weiiiiiird this is, don't you want to know more?
Eh.
Not really.
Going to read the next two anyway because it takes about 30 minutes to make it through.
I was delighted to rediscover the world of Griffin and Sabine! I either didn't realize or forgot that there was a second trilogy, as I'd never read it. I remember reading the first trilogy back in the early 2000s, not long after starting at the library. There's just something really cool about reading a book made of postcards, and actual letters that you remove from little envelopes! You also have to carefully examine the art, as that's part of the story, and it's very intriguing.
The details of the original trilogy are hazy after all this time, but it started to come back to me as I read this book, and we get to meet two new characters, Matthew and Isabella. I was just starting to really get into the story when the first book ended, and I'm glad I have access to the second one right away! (I definitely recommend starting with the original trilogy, if you can get your hands on it.)
The Morning Star Trilogy is the second trilogy of books regarding Griffin and Sabine. But this time, Griffin and Sabine are in the background, guiding another pair of lovers together in an effort to stop Frolatti from some horrible plot. In the forefront of this story are Matthew Sedon, a young archaeologist in Alexandria with a connection to Sabine (she helped deliver him) and Isabella de Reims, a student in Paris and Matthew's lover. Isabella often has waking dreams, views into the psyche of the world. The letters are primarily between Matthew and Isabella, though Sabine does contact Matthew on occasion and Griffin keeps in contact with Isabella. There are shades of the beginnings of Griffin and Sabine's romance within these correspondence - primarily with Matthew's doubts regarding Sabine.
Unlike the previous trilogy, there is more of a sense of menace with this trilogy. There is active evil in the unseen Frilotti and his cohorts. But getting Matthew to understand the seriousness of what is happening (within the first book) is a large part of the first book.
I'll be honest. The second trilogy fell flat with me. It still had the beautiful artwork of the first trilogy, but the magic wasn't quite there. I think the addition of "the next generation" just didn't work as well. My husband, of course, thinks I'm crazy as he loved them as much as the first trilogy. But for me, Griffin and Sabine had a simplicity beneath the complications of their circumstance. Something primal about the connection and the love they shared. But adding Matthew and Isabella complicated that. And it just didn't sit as right with me.
The series was ok... worth reading at least once. But it didn't, in my mind, live up to the magic of the first trilogy.
This review covers all three books in the second Griffin and Sabine trilogy. I received the first trilogy as a gift, and I enjoyed it. When I was told there were three more books, I rushed to get them. But, although they had the same physical beauty and fun of the first set, the story sort of bogged down. I thought the magic spark and spooky intrigue pretty much vanished. I was just confused and that is annoying....is the author deliberately being obscure or am I just stupid? Either way, I didn't see the point of adding two new characters without explaining what really has happened with Sabine and Griffin. ( Although in posting this I have discovered that there is now a seventh book that takes place in between the trilogies and possibly does shed some light on what happened after the third book. Or maybe I'll just become MORE confused.) I really didn't mind that the original trilogy ended in mystery because it was such a simple tale. That was fine to let your own imagination end it as you wish. But when you start throwing in visions and Egyptian gods and ancient statues and stalking bad guys and arson and whatever you have a different kind of story and I need more sense made of it.
After reading this triology (this review is based on the 3 books: The Gryphon, Alexandria and The Morning Star) Ive come to appreciate the simplicity of the original triology (Griffin & Sabine.) I admit that I got annoyed that new characters were introduced and I was more interested in finding out what happened with Griffin & Sabine. But, as I got into the books, I was able to see G&S come out alongside with Matthew and Isabella. Mr. Bantock is a huge fan of Greek/Egytpian mythology and metaphysical concepts. He absolutely ran with these mystical, alluring concepts in the final triology. These books are not for the average person; they're better suited for people who like mysteries, the allure of unknown, enchanted love stories and odd mystical mythologies. I was interested in doing some research on Mercury, Hermes, Thoth and a few other Egyptian dieties after reading these books. After reading up on a few stories and concepts on these individuals, I was able to better understand the general concept of the entire series. Its definitely very metaphysical and philosphical.
I have to say that I absolutely love the format of the books. The letters, postcards and paper trinkets are absolutely charming and really make the books.
I have no idea how to review this.. I mean, the 3rd book kinda had an end, even though it was an end where you would have to use your imagination to guess what/who Sabine and Griffin were, and where they were.
Now, I've read this and really have no idea what to think? I mean, now we read about 'dark angels, shadow-seeing' and what not?
I hope the last two books give some kind of explanation.. Even though I'm not really counting on it..
Not quite sure what to make of this book. This is either part 1 of the continuing mystery of Griffin and Sabine, years after they've been missing or part 4, depending on how you want to look at it. I'm not sure that this was exactly necessary, although the third book had a very obviously unfinished ending. The call is still out on how I will feel about this next sequence of books.
Nick Bantock’s The Gryphon is the fourth installment in the Griffin & Sabine series, a collection of epistolary novels that have enchanted readers since its inception. The Gryphon continues the unconventional correspondence between Griffin Moss, the introspective artist, and Sabine Strohem, the enigmatic muse who communicates with him through letters that cross the boundaries of time, space, and reality itself.
At first glance, Bantock’s use of letters, postcards, and his signature lush illustrations may seem like a simple creative gimmick, but a closer examination reveals a rich narrative complexity. The book, much like its predecessors, straddles the line between art and literature, offering an experience that is both deeply visual and profoundly textual. This dynamic interplay is what elevates The Gryphon beyond the traditional form of the novel, as it delves into the themes of connection, identity, and the metaphysical boundaries of existence.
Where Bantock shines most is in his ability to draw readers into an intimate emotional world. The tactile nature of the letters, often meticulously crafted and beautifully illustrated, encourages a personal relationship with the narrative. Each page feels like an artifact, a fragment of a larger, mysterious puzzle, inviting readers not merely to witness the story but to participate in it. The act of turning each page feels almost like unsealing a private secret, enhancing the atmosphere of mystery and discovery.
Thematically, The Gryphon builds upon the Jungian elements present in the earlier books, diving deeper into questions of synchronicity, the collective unconscious, and the duality of inner and outer worlds. Bantock seems to ask: What defines reality? How does imagination shape our experience of others? These questions are embodied in the figures of Griffin and Sabine, whose relationship challenges the boundaries between dream and reality, mind and matter. Their letters, at once tangible and ethereal, offer meditations on the permeability of selfhood, hinting at a world where consciousness and connection transcend the physical.
This installment, however, takes a darker turn. Whereas the earlier books seemed to revel in the surreal romance between Griffin and Sabine, The Gryphon introduces a more ominous tone. The introduction of Frolatti, a sinister, almost mythic figure, shifts the balance of the narrative from one of discovery to one of potential threat. The sense of foreboding that shadows each letter suggests that Griffin’s and Sabine’s connection may not be purely benevolent, adding a layer of tension that enriches the storytelling.
Bantock’s artwork deserves special mention. The illustrations are not mere accompaniments but integral to the novel’s narrative texture. They reflect the emotional and psychological states of the characters, and the fusion of art and text creates a symbiotic relationship that mirrors the characters’ own struggle to navigate their interconnected yet fragmented realities. Each image feels like a doorway into the subconscious, as though the reader is given a visual manifestation of the thoughts and emotions hidden within the words of the letters.
If there is a critique to be made, it is that The Gryphon leaves many questions unanswered, particularly in the realm of plot. Readers seeking narrative closure may find themselves frustrated by the ambiguity that permeates the book. However, this very ambiguity is part of Bantock’s artistry. The open-endedness forces readers to confront the mystery head-on, to sit with the uncertainty rather than seek resolution, much like Griffin and Sabine themselves. In this sense, The Gryphon aligns more with the tradition of modernist or postmodern literature, where ambiguity and unresolved tension are used to reflect the complexities of existence.
Ultimately, The Gryphon is a work of profound imagination and emotional depth, blending art and literature in a way that challenges traditional narrative structures. Bantock crafts an experience that is as much about the form as it is about the content, inviting readers to question the nature of storytelling itself. With its intricate design, evocative art, and philosophical undercurrents, The Gryphon stands as a testament to Bantock’s unique vision—one that lingers in the mind long after the final letter is read.
In the end, The Gryphon is less a novel to be understood than it is an experience to be felt, a journey through the intertwined realms of thought, art, and emotion. It is a rare literary work that invites as much reflection on its form as on its meaning, leaving the reader suspended in its delicate web of mystery and beauty.
I spent the last week collecting the second trilogy of books through the mail, as well as a book about Nick Bantock's Art (Urgent 2nd Class).
I'm still enjoying the artwork in these books and although the storyline of The Gryphon is not as compelling as the original, I can't wait to read more!
I'm sure everyone who reads these books has the same feeling: what are these books telling me? How do they apply to my own life? What am I supposed to do with this? Or perhaps it's just me ... they've come into my life at a most remarkable time and I feel compelled to create and explore a deeper meaning.
Just this morning I was reading about Crazy Horse and his belief that we are living in a shadow life. He would have dreams that would bring him to the "real world" and he would use those visions to manifest what he wanted to happen in his shadow life. As I read it, it struck me as remarkably similar to Buddhist meditation and tapping into the energy of the universe.
Is it a coincidence that I'm exploring these topics concurrently while reading Nick Bantock's books? I need to read more before I can say definitively! But if nothing else, these books are worth an afternoon of entertainment and igniting creativity!
This volume picks up several years after Griffin and Sabine's disappearance, resuming the story with the rather odd postcard addressed to Matthew. More characters are introduced, adding to the tapestry of penmanship and stationery and countries both real and imaginary that make up this series. I can't say that I fully understand everything that's happening--something to do with alchemy, and telepathy, and a sinister figure--but I love it, anyway, in the pure and trusting way that one loves something that defies full comprehension. (Don't most things worth loving do?)
There's so much pleasure in reading this series, in opening each envelope and reaching back in for something you missed (a nude photograph) or being surprised when something tumbles out of the folds of the letter in your hand (a ticket). It's ergodic lite: If House of Leaves is a domme with her high-heeled boot on your neck, then Griffin and Sabine is a bratty bottom who's going to pout and sass but ultimately let you have your way with her. Which is fine by me... I find brats charming.
An intriguing continuation to Griffin and Sabine's saga, now introducing new characters such as Matthew and Isabella!
1st star - it didn't exactly end in the worst of cliffhangers but it still leaves me wanting to really finish this journey with our two pairs of lovers!
2nd star - this book was a lot more wordier than the previous trilogy, but it had more depth going on, and the underlying danger they're going to get involved in really adds to the storyline's thrill!
3rd star - I still prefer Griffin and Sabine's interactions with each other, but Matthew and Isabella will suffice for now. I guess I liked how I saw Griffin and Sabine's attraction grew for each other during the trilogy, compared to the already existing relationship between Matthew and Isabella.
4th star - 'cuz this series keeps getting better and better, and now they're dipping into alchemy! This was never your usual love story to begin with, but now it's starting to explore a whole other level of being soulmates!
I read the original trilogy in the late 90s, then read them again earlier this year after receiving the entire series as a Christmas gift from someone whom I’m in a long distance relationship with. Just as I did, he loved the original trilogy, but learned that there were additional books added. This book sort of picks up years after the original series ends with Sabine finding Matthew, a baby she delivered years ago, and asking for his help. Matthew himself is in a long distance relationship with Isabella and they write letters and postcards to each other rather than use email. Isabella has been having what she calls “shadow dreams.” It’s then that Griffin reaches out to her to help her not only with them, but to ask her help regarding her dreams for him and Sabine. I’ll finish the series, but so far the first book feels disjointed and confusing. The artwork isn’t even as good as the original trilogy.
Still, it was great. I really loved (and over-indulged) in the first three books in this series. They were romantic and eclectic and unforeseen. This one, however, was not such.
There was a lot of symbolism that was lost on me. Egyptian culture and archeological terms, for the most part, until Sabine resolved to speaking of dark angels and gothic terminology.
It has sadly made me fear Sabine. In the first books, I was infatuated by her. Now, I am scared of her. Why is she writing a letter but signing it Griffin? Why do her letters sound like threats?
While in the beginning it was a lighthearted romance, it is now eerie and sharp. I will continue reading, despite it all. I wish for an ending, above all else.
By association, it gets four stars.
(Also, it seems that the new couple introduces a level of cultural appropriation to the mix, which I don’t exactly like.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I do love the mystery but the situation between Griffin and Sabine confused me more. Don't get me wrong, Mythology interests me but I couldn't quite put a finger on its relevance in the story. I was expecting more since Griffin's departure in London. I thought, maybe he and Sabine could be together. I had a strong feeling their distance is separated by time rather location. Also, why is Griffin's penmanship as same as Sabine? Were they literally unified as a single person? I am completely lost in the narrative.
Matthew and Isabella, on the other hand, didn't entice me as a romantic but when they exchanged letters in their correspondence, I felt their strong desire towards each other. Long distance is a cruel thing, indeed.
I've become slightly obsessed with the Griffin & Sabine Trilogy. The books are not that easy to come by so I had to wait for the next book to arrive. I loved the first trilogy and couldn't wait to see how the story continued, but The Gryphon has left me slightly disappointed. It is as beautiful as the first 3 books, if not even more beautiful. The story didn't grab me as much though. I don't understand how Isabella, who is meant to have read Griffin and Sabine's correspondence, hasn't noticed the cards sent to her by Griffin are in Sabine's handwriting. I have the next two books in this second trilogy waiting for me, as well as the 7th book. I really am hoping they will grab me more than this book, as I don't really want this journey to end.
This one might as well be called "In which Griffin & Sabine get really sinister". We have new protagonists in this book, young loves separated by their work, who start getting mysterious letters from someone named Sabine, and someone named Griffin, wherein things get very, very weird. There are things that make you wonder (Griffin had different handwriting in earlier books, I think.... the writing in this one looks like Sabines handwriting), but mostly its so mystical to frustrate. Even when asked directly what is going on, the answers are enigmatic and vague, and not in a fun way. I get the idea that this book is all beautiful flash, and no substance, which is too bad. I love a mystery, but this is just mysterious.
So, this new series starts out with two new characters while also incorporating Griffin and Sabine. It seems that everything is the same: British colonialism, exotic locations, handwritten correspondence, mythological and folkloric elements, romance and a new mystery. However, at this point, the art included in the book is very muddled. I imagine it could be intriguing in person, but on the page these collage works are overwrought and muddled, which is a distraction for me. I like the direction the story is going but I am bored by the overly romantic elements and the weird colonialism vibe. Just my personal preference. Otherwise moving forward with this new series.
I'm not going to lie: most of the time in this second trilogy, I have no idea what's really happening. I mean, I know it's Matthew writing to Isabella (and vice versa), Matthew writing to Sabine, then Isabella writing to Griffin, but there's still the question of why Sabine's and Griffin's handwriting now looks so similar, the appearance of their middle initials, the shared-sight, the visions, the mythology. Ultimately, though, I don't care. I don't care (and it doesn't matter) that it doesn't make "logical" sense. It's a beautiful story with beautiful art... and we need more of this in this world.