In 2005, steampunk aficionados celebrated the publication of Mark Roberts and Jeff VanderMeer’s anthology of imaginary (or are they?) ailments, The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases. Packed with vivid descriptions of bizarre medical anomalies that would bring even the eminent Dr. House up short, the Pocket Guide features “commentary” by an array of distinguished experts, including Neil Gaiman, Kage Baker, China Miéville, and dozens of others, and takes readers on a whirlwind tour of the many, many strange and weird things that could (and maybe possibly sometimes do) go wrong with the human body and mind.

Now, six years later, VanderMeer and his wife Ann regretfully announce the death of Dr. Lambshead at the age of 103, but also report an astonishing discovery: in his basement, which was badly damaged by fire at some point (this is mentioned several times), Dr. Lambshead maintained a cabinet full of amazing and unusual finds from his many adventures around the globe. The contents of Lambshead’s legendary Cabinet of Curiosities serve as the inspiration for this quirky little book.

Basically a festschrift in honor of a man who never actually existed (…or did he? Who’s to say, after all?), The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities contains stories, essays, correspondence, museum catalog copy, and loads of wildly imaginative art (some of it not fully realized in the review copy I read, but certainly giving the promise of extreme coolness). Throughout the book, we get glimpses of the good doctor himself -- he appears as a secondary character in some pieces, and is discussed in others, and leaves an impression of someone both dispassionate and somewhat sinister.

The stories are by turns horrifying (see Tad Williams’ “A Short History of Dunkelblau’s Meistergarten,” in which small children are the subject of a very out-there educational experiment), grotesque (whatever you do, don’t touch the claw as described in “A Key to the Castleblakeney Key” by Caitlín R. Kiernan), and darkly humorous (for example, Jeffrey Ford’s “Relic” treats of the theft and attempted restoration of that most sacred of relics, Saint Ifritia’s Toe). I particularly liked Cherie Priest’s “Addison Howell and the Clockroach,” in which a touching tale is undercut by frequent (and hilarious) footnoted asides courtesy of an underpaid and resentful graduate student, and Miéville’s “Pulvadmonitor: The Dust’s Warning,” which showcases the author’s love of and facility with language. My personal favorite, however, is Garth Nix’s contribution, “Ambrose and the Ancient Spirits of East and West,” simply because it’s a rare story about people doing a nice thing for someone who needs it. (Overall, this book is not exactly overflowing with the milk of human kindness. I actually don’t mean that in a bad way.) Also not to be missed are the entries in the “Brief Catalog of Other Items” that concludes the book, each one an evocative marvel of economy and wit. Some pieces rather too aggressively demand not just analysis but ANALYSIS and the book may go on a bit long, but when you’re having this much fun, who cares, right?

The VanderMeers have rounded up several of the old Pocket Guide gang for this one -- Miéville is back, obviously, along with Michael Moorcock -- and they are joined by a new group of notables including Ted Chiang, Alan Moore, Lev Grossman, and Naomi Novik, as well as artists such as James A. Owen, Jake von Slatt, and Mike Mignola of Hellboy fame. Overall, the contents are just as lively and readable as the presence of such an interesting and eclectic group of talents would promise. Eccentric and imaginative, this collection is a true “cabinet of curiosities” that will satisfy any adventurous reader.

   -- Kate Nagy