On Gaiman

I don't think it's any secret that I've been reading a lot of Neil Gaiman in the past month. In the last three weeks, I've read Good Omens, Coraline, American Gods, and Absolute Sandman, Vol. 4. I just picked up a copy of Stardust, and all of his short story collections, Neverwhere, Smoke and Mirrors, and Fragile Things, are on my immediate short list. I cannot recommend him enough, and he is undoubtedly one of the finest writers we have at the moment.

It's not surprising that I like his work, really. In his books, he has an uncanny knack for prose. He knows how to build suspense, or create a mood, better than just about anyone; Coraline is a Young Adult novella, but I was genuinely creeped out on several occasions. In his more adult works, he draws from an incredible range of wide-reaching mythologies, finding ways for them all to interact and work as one, cohesive whole. It's all the more enjoyable for the fact that Gaiman doesn't wait for you; in American Gods, he mentions a squirrel which says "something sounding like 'Ratatoskr.'" A little research reveals that Ratatoskr is the name of the squirrel in Norse mythology who lives in the World Tree. There are "easter eggs" like this strewn throughout his work, and, while he's not the only author to make frequent allusions to relatively esoteric things, he has the distinction of making the stories enjoyable without any working knowledge of the mythologies he draws from. If you're already familiar with them, his writing is that much better, and reaches the point of admirable, but there's no "You Must Be This Informed To Read" bar.

What is surprising to me is that I haven't gotten to most of his stuff sooner. I've been reading The Sandman, between its trades and the Absolute collection (an over-sized series of gorgeous slip-case hardcovers from DC Comics, in which they collect and reissue their prestige titles), since my sophomore year. I found "Preludes and Nocturnes," a collection of the first eight issues of The Sandman, in the teen section of the Glastonbury Public Library, and I was immediately hooked. It's inconceivable to think that Gaiman had only written one miniseries prior to his work on The Sandman, as its opening arc is absolutely brilliant. It gets you acclimated to the universe by opening with a storyline that is essentially an action movie, and an amazing one at that. From there, the series rapidly grows darker, more cerebral; The Doll's House is a twisting, winding, psychological thriller of the finest quality. The Corinthian is Gaiman's crowning acheivement, a nightmare of his devising that feels so natural when next to mytholofical stalwarts such as The Furies and Fiddler's Green that you don't believe he made it up.

I've been working on completing The Sandman for six years, and reading the last pages was an event. I was astonished as I read The Kindly Ones and The Wake; The Kindly Ones was the last major arc for The Sandman, an epic spanning thirteen issues that took in the entirety of Gaiman's creation, referencing occurances throughout the series in such a way that I began to believe he'd had it planned all along, yet refused to believe it was possible to have such a clear vision of such grandeur from the start. It's breathtaking to read, to watch the pieces fall into place; the final issue, The Tempest, ends the series perfectly, in a manner only Gaiman would have been capable of. If you have the inclination, you should read The Sandman.

The only flaw in The Sandman is its inconsistent art, with artists changing constantly. But the story telling, on Gaiman's part, is a master class. He has a gift for scope, for making a number of loose threads, each in their own right mesmerizing enough, and then snapping them into one tapestry, and tapestry is the best word; in Gaiman's mind, there is always a bigger picture, and everything he does helps to add to it. He distracts us with individual strands, before suddenly pushing us back so we see what he's seen the whole time. Obviously, I am not the first person to sing Gaiman's praises; indeed, he is old news at this point. But, as I am just now starting to delve deeper into his catalogue, and I am continually awed and impressed with what I find, while still being entertained on a gutteral level, I would be remiss if I didn't try to send the rest of you his way.

Joe and I were discussing Gaiman a few weeks ago, after I finished reading American Gods. He commented that Gaiman seems to be losing potency as he gets older, that he's settling into becoming somewhat fatherly, writing childrens' books and not tackling projects with the same scope he used to. This may be true, and Joe has a point; Gods came out in 2001, and since then Gaiman has written Fragile Things, a collection of short stories, Anansi Boys, which is, from my understanding, a sweet, charming novel (It's on the To Read list), two pieces of Young Adult Fiction with Coraline and The Graveyard Book, and a number of childrens' books with various illustrators. So, he's not writing the epics he used to, but I can't really blame him. For one thing, he's writing some brilliant YA material, stuff I can't wait to give to my kid. For another, once you've written one of the best comic series ever published (possibly THE best comic series ever published) and one of the best fantasy novels ever published (probably the best fantasy novel that doesn't take place in a world drastically different from our own), well, where do you go? He mastered comics, and epic fantasy novels, and moved on. What's frightening is he seemed to master them both on the first go. I can't wait to see where he goes next.

American Gods

American Gods
(2001)
Written by Neil Gaiman

Beliefs travel with the believer. That is the central concept behind American Gods, an incredible book from Neil Gaiman, a man I've been reading a lot of lately. When the Vikings came to America, they brought with them their Gods. As more immigrants came, on slave ships or trade ships or whatever you may, they brought even more beliefs, more Gods, with them, until this was a country full of Gods. But, as time went on, they forgot about their Gods, stopped worshiping them, or making sacrifices in their names, until the Gods could do nothing but get on with life like the rest of us.

Or, at least, try.

Our story follows Shadow, an unusually large man, as he's being released from prison after serving three years. I don't want to give away much more than the back cover does, so I'll leave my summation at his meeting a mysterious man who has a job for him. Does Shadow accept? Well, of course he does, that's the whole idea. It wouldn't be much of a book, I don't think, if he didn't.

What I can say about this book, or, rather, what I will say about this book, is that, for the first 425 pages (the paperback edition I read is just shy of 600), it's a good read, and seems like a better-than-average fantasy book, but nothing great. Then it was brilliant. The last 175 pages had me enthralled so fully that I may have ignored a few customers at The Home Depot in an (sucessful) attempt to keep reading.

Much like Martin McDonagh's In Bruge, nothing here is without its place. Details shared early in the book, which pass by like so many inconsequential bits of miscellanea, end up being brilliantly intertwined into a truly epic tapestry. I like that this book plays around with Gods and the big stuff without ever feeling over-done. It never once feels forced, and the ending is as sweet and perfect as you'd want. There was a brief moment where I considered getting misty-eyed.

The ending is essential. There are many books in this broader Fantasy genre that are thrilling reads, but there are precious few which benefit from the real hallmarks of literary perfection; it would be better a second time through, I have no doubt. That is what makes American Gods a true standout.q

Grade: A+

Coraline

Coraline
(2002)
Written by Neil Gaiman

I will admit that my familiarity with the horror genres of any given medium, be that books, movies, or comics, could only be charitably described as "passing." I'm not what you'd call a frequent patron. But I do enjoy Neil Gaiman, possibly even love, and so I finally got around to reading Coraline. I didn't avoid it because I thought it would be scary- keep in mind that, up until recently, I rarely cracked more than five books in a year, including assigned readings-, but I will say if I'd read this when I was Coraline's age, it would have terrified me.

Even now, at twenty, it's creepy. There are no cheap scares here. We never find out what Coraline's other mother, the mother through the door, the one with the button eyes (how effective and creepy is that minor detail), really is, we just know it's scary. We never really find out what's going on through the opposite side of the door, but we know we never want to go there. Fear of the unknown is always more powerful, and, while everyone knows that, everyone doesn't have the ability to use that knowledge. That, or, based on the evidence provided by movies such as Jeepers Creepers, everyone won't put in the effort.

To point, this is a magical book. It started a bit slow, which is odd, since it was thrown into the meat of the story within the first twenty pages. One of the advantages of Young Adult fiction is it doesn't waste time. But, still, it was slow. I think Gaiman did that on purpose, though, to get us empathising with Coraline's dull existance. It's what makes the button-eyed freaks on the opposite side of that door so appealing at first; they're colourful, they have circuses and rats, etc. But everyone has a downside, and other mom just happens to have a fondness for, well, being singularly evil. I won't go into more detail, but this is a treasure of a book, and one I can't wait to start terrifying my children with.

You know, as soon as I have some.

Grade: A

I Take It to be a Good Omen...

Good Omens
Written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

What do I take to be a good omen? This is the fiftieth post of the Thought's Dowinion relaunch! We made it everyone, and they never thought we would. Bastards, all of them. To be honest, there isn't any other book I'd rather be reviewing for this most auspicious of occasions than Good Omens. Finishing this is my own little victory over four years of efforts, false starts, and distractions. Mostly distractions. And false starts. Not so much with the efforts, to be honest. At least I'm not a liar.

As one would expect from Pratchett, this is a very, very funny book. The understanding I've gained is that Gaiman and Pratchett did the plotting over the phone on an almost daily basis, and, while Gaiman was primarily busy working on Sandman, Pratchett did most of the actual writing. I've never read any of his other novels, but they are now dutifily ready for the To Read list. It's funny, and I mean, it's really funny. I laughed frequently. It's a dry, English humour, no doubt, but it really is hysterical at times. The footnotes, my favourite literary device (I use them in papers all the time, when I know it wouldn't actually be appropriate to share what I want to share), had me in stitches, as they say. But humour alone is not enough.

What this does SO well, and moves it into the major leagues, is it tells a real and interesting story. Though it's almost impossible to imagine Good Omens without the jokes, as they are constant, it would be a great fantasy novel even without the wit. The story is that good, and that's what's missing from just about any lackluster comedy. There's no awkward difference when a section shifts from one writer to another; anyone familiar with his work can tell Gaiman was more involved with the plot, while Pratchett took care of editing everything down together. As far as fantasy/humour novels are concerned, this is in a league of its own. As far as fantasy novels go, it's still damn good.

Grade: A