And some gloriously erroneous conclusions are going to be drawn.
Book 27: Ul de Rico, The White Goblin. Yeah, it's a kid's book, but I figure I can add it into the portion-of-Cook to claim it as a complete entry.
Alas, this slender volume does not measure up to The Rainbow Goblins, of which I have a battered and much-reread copy that was originally given to me by my Aunt Lissa (the name Elizabeth runs in some families; in mine, it gallops) either in terms of art or storyline. And I don't think that's just sentiment talking.
Book 28: David Riggs, Ben Jonson: A Life.
Once he hit Prince Henry and The Alchemist, I was in paydirt. Yay!
Man, there is a lot of book in this book.
"My own plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan's country, or shot over the edge of the world in some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise...."