If anyone lied, or if anyone swore. 1911

Arthur Rackham made this scene, titled "If anyone lied, or if anyone swore," with ink and watercolor, and what strikes me is its muted palette, like a whispered secret. The browns and grays aren't sad, though, they're just holding something back, waiting for the right moment. Rackham's lines are so precise, they create a world where everything is slightly off-kilter, and in this image it adds to the palpable tension. Look at the monk on the right – the hatching on his face, the way his mouth is just a dark gash; he is furious! And then there’s the spilled ink, radiating outwards like an accusation. It's a small detail, but it throws the whole scene into chaos, like a glitch in the matrix. Rackham reminds me a bit of Edward Gorey, in that they both have this way of making the mundane seem sinister. But where Gorey is all sharp edges, Rackham is softer, more forgiving, even in his most unsettling scenes. It leaves you wondering: what exactly did someone lie, or swear, about?