My Goblin Therapist

A bit of therapeutic magic

When a book is delivered all the way from Australia you pay attention. Receiving something from so far away is magical.  It came Air Mail, by Australian Post, not by a magical hawk or owl.  It is a small hand bound book printed on raw brown paper.  My Goblin Therapist could have been found in a Hobbit’s Library.  The book is dedicated to:  “…crawling, walking, slithering, and flying creatures” of whom I am sure the writer fits in somewhere on that spectrum, as I hope I fit in.   I know the author of this book to be human, but don’t be too so sure you can categorize the writer, for this book has the look of being in the collection of a fantasy bibliotheca in an undiscovered shire.  An inter-dimensional portal must have opened up allowing this book to slip through.    Yes, that’s it!    

The book has an organic feel, no surprise being written by a professional gardener, musician and poet.  But it should not be a surprise to anyone that My Goblin Therapist and its protagonist live in a world of nature. The book is beautifully illustrated with plants, mushrooms and the landscapes of the natural world.  After all, magic was born in nature.  Goblins and creatures of the forest sprung from plants and black earth, from nettles and rock covered moss.  That is where magic started, not from Netflix nor the imagination of a script writer’s keyboard.  Early man saw magic in trees, in roots, in insects that seem to spring magically from the ground.  Early self-made naturalists recorded what they saw with ink and paper.  Taubert does the same with his illustrations of his world.  This is a world of “stories leaking from shadows” and a place of “imaginary eggs”. 

The human protagonist lives in a world where a goblin therapist is as enigmatic as magic itself.  Magic and finding the key to one’s heart are equally cloaked in mystery.  Finding your “heart” can be as equally daunting whether you live in a world of PHDs or Goblins.  Along the way, Taubert illustrates the journey with drawings, dissections of fauna, stem diagrams (ha), and illustrations of landscapes of this fantasy (?) world. 

I much prefer the Goblin Therapist over my human one.  My Human Therapist just sits there while his parakeet, whom he keeps in the same room, twitters out commentary and whistles of contempt to my secrets while providing more advice than his human keeper.   

My Goblin Therapist is not just a book to read and set aside.    It is a book to ponder.  The author has written, illustrated, and hand stitched a book about a personal journey.  It’s more Tolkien, than Lewis, and magnificently Taubertian [sic].  Whether in the Shire, South Australia, or in the confines of your imagination…as Homer said, “The journey is the thing.”      

Editor’s Note *  Check out www.patreon.com/zebulonstoryteller

 

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4 comments on “My Goblin Therapist

  1. Mary says:

    I’m fortunate to call Morgan my friend. He’s a gentleman and a gentle soul. He visits me in my retirement village? Plays me music, keeps my balcony plant healthy and generally provides respectful company. I look forward to his visits.

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