Wallace Tripp's Wurst Seller.

If you like this book, and the subversive worlds of George Booth, Ogden Nash or Shel Silverstein, then you should pick up Nick Bantock's (of Gryphon & Sabine fame), " Averse to Beasts," a book with cassette whose dangerous little ditties rival Tripp's in their hilarity with a dose of arsenic.

Ever since we bought this slim volume in 1980 for ourselves, and soon thereafter everyone else we knew at the time, we treasured it. We were falilliar with Wallace Tripp's amusing and looney card work for Hallmark, and his illustrations for similarly slim books of classic childrens' poems and nonsense. But this was material he obviously doodled for himself - unrestrained naughty puns ("Oh Beth, where is thy string?" whispers one stripper to another...), parody of insufferable childrens books (the "Little Bunny Wuffy" misadventure), well-rendered subtle lunacy suitable for framing ("Virgin on the Ridiculous"). His "cute animals on greeting card" pen & ink style stands him in good stead here, and he knows his anatomy. No matter how ludicrous the situation, everything has a solid reality. The endpiece, of a "routine" Wallace Tripp mouse sitting upon a wooden chair in pants & sweater squeezing the toe of his boot and scowling "Gad, my feet hurt! How I hate anthropomorphism!", is one of our favourites - Heinrich Kley meets Gilbert & Sullivan. A treasured gem.

"Little Bunny Wuffy and Tee Wee" is an example of how great this book is. Just a nonstop barrage of cartoon hilarity that I read as a young kid (a lil TOO immature to get some of the humor, but NOW I get it!). I was worried this wouldn't even be in print anymore, but luckily it is.

Tripp's penchant for putting well-worked phrases and familiar icons into new, strange, and often hilarious illustrations comes alive in Wurst Seller, where parody and giddiness rule. Whether it's the tepid yet darkly humorous "Little Bunny Wuffy" adventure or the subtle differences between a Pseudo Nym and a True Nym, you will find yourself giggling or staring quizzically at the curious -- but well crafted -- drawings and portrayals Tripp renders. The closest comparison I could make would be Richard Scarry meets Ogden Nash in the throes of a cheap-wine-induced delirium. For punsters and oddballs, this is a delightful book whose only fault is that it ends all too soon.