I have spent the last weeks in Gormenghast. In this damp, drafty castle of solemn ritual I found solace. A dark sanctuary for dark times, wrapped in prose so beautiful it is terrifying. Peake was love at first reading and second thought, and these are my humble, mindless renderings of the images that haunted me, and haunt me still, of the first chapter of Titus Groan. I also gave it voice; this recording was meant for intimate acquaintances, as were the drawings, and it is not professional by any means. Yet I will share it here, for today’s stranger could be tomorrow’s friend.