Completely epistolary in its telling, the story of Griffin and Sabine (and, later, Matthew and Isabelle) is chronicled through a series of postcards and letters, some of which come stuffed into envelopes glued to the page, which the reader must remove, unfold and read, as if snooping through the neighbour’s mail. “It’s initially, obviously, a love story, but it’s also a mystery, a pursuit of self-understanding, a passion masque, a struggle to awaken, a hero’s journey, or two, a chess match with darkness, a sensual dance with duende, and an alchemical marriage.”Ī rather strange description for some rather strange books. “Somebody asked me, the other day, to write down what the books were, actually,” says their creator, Nick Bantock, on the phone from his home in Victoria. The book that told their story, Griffin & Sabine, as well as the five that followed, are rather difficult to explain to those who haven’t read them, but are beloved by the millions around the world who’ve spent the past 25 years reading through their mail.Īuthor Nick Bantock, best known for his series of Griffin and Sabine books, is photographed in his Victoria, B.C., studio on March 16. This marked the start of an “extraordinary correspondence” and one of contemporary literature’s most fanciful love affairs – one that spanned continents, history, and even, perhaps, parallel universes. The recipient, Griffin Moss, was himself a maker of postcards, while the sender, Sabine Strohem, designed postage stamps for a tiny chain of islands in the South Pacific absent from even the most detailed of maps.Īlthough they’d never met in person, Sabine said she’d “been watching art for many years” and, when pressed, explained that she, on occasion, shares his vision: “When you draw and paint, I see what you’re doing while you do it.”

Twenty-five years ago this summer, an unusual postcard arrived on the doorstep of a lonely young man’s London flat.

The griffin and sabine trilogy