Edward Gorey was one of the most talented (and eccentric) graphic artists to emerge in post-war America, and this macabre little book is one of his finest. An A to Z of children’s names, complete with illustrations of their final moments, all narrated in rhyming dactylic couplets. The deadpan delivery gives it the feeling of a public record, and the fine cross-hatched illustrations point to the Victorian fascination with death and childhood innocence. The perfect book for anyone who ever painted their fingernails black.

A charming, heart-warming story about … death. Death in a dressing gown and slippers. And about Duck, who makes friends with this strange character, Death. The charm of the story comes from the simple pencil drawings of its awkward characters, and their honest, unhurried words. The ultimate passing of Duck is so unremarkable as to bring perspective to the business of death. A wonderful, reassuring perspective that we often lose sight of in the face of loss. “But that is life, thought Death.” The perfect book for talking about death.

Fox is a modern fable that pulls no punches. It tells a tale of friendship and betrayal so openly and rawly that it takes your breath away — especially in the context of a picture book. The rich, burnt colours and scratchy textures feel dusty and sun-parched, evocative of the Australian landscape. Hand-drawn lettering, etched awkwardly with the illustrator’s left hand, brings an additional layer of naïvety to the text. The tale of Fox, Dog and Magpie is unexpected from a picture book, and certainly not a story for juniors, but any child who has spent hard time in the school playground will take some meaning from the telling. The perfect book for the easily misled.