I awoke this morning to news that Ronald Searle passed away yesterday. Back in college, around 1988-90, Ronald Searle traded blows with Edward Gorey for my affections. Searle represented the loose, luscious line work and bawdy observations that I was attracted to on one hand (but secretly so, since I was such a prude back then and Searle's subject matter was often a little, how do you say, naughty), while Gorey represented a precise and obsessed drawing style, and the more macabre side of my sensitivities. Gorey eventually got the upper hand when I wrote and drew Frederick & Eloise, but even then, I had Searle's book Ah Yes, I Remember it Well: Paris 1961 – 1975 with me while living on Place Pigalle in 1991 and referred to it often.
I haven't thought about Searle in some time, and I have no idea what happened to that book. Other inspirations and influences have come and gone and you'd be hard-pressed to find that dripping quill-line ink and robust sensuousness in anything I've drawn in the last ten years. I think maybe I'll go find a used copy of that book, or else his Paris Sketchbook, and live in the past for a few hours.