Well I'm finally finished. The snug little rut I'd developed for myself has ended and it is time for me to emerge, squinting and shivering, into the bright light of life again. After all, all good things must come to an end.
Must...hold...back...tears.... C'm on Kelt...you can fall back into the rut sometime in September....
Why am I sad? Because Neil Gaiman is not a particularly prolific novelist. I suppose I could start reading his graphic novels (he has more than a few of those), but my chosen medium is really prose. And there ain't no more of that to be had right now.
For the past two and a half weeks I have been spending every waking moment of free time devouring Gaiman's work. It all began way back at the beginning of the month, when I went off to Vancouver Island for the weekend. A good friend of mine (who generally has excellent taste in literature...when he's not reading chess/poker/whatever new teach-yourself-to-play thing he's currently into) claimed that Gaiman's 'American Gods' was perhaps the best novel he'd ever read. I was apathetic (hadn't been doing much reading lately), but picked up another of Gaiman's works (Coraline...a novel for children really) and whipped through it in a couple of hours. His writing was lyrical, chilling, at times drily sarcastic, and above all addictive. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and promptly forgot about it when I got back to Vancouver.
A few days later, while wandering around Chapters, killing time prior to a teaching assignment at Kaplan, I spotted 'American Gods'. As I was currently lacking reading material, I decided to purchase the book. I carried it around with me a for a few days before actually opening it, but once I did, there was no turning back. The book deals with (surprise) Gods in America, how they were brought there by early settlers, and what's happening to them now that no one believes in them any more. The concept itself is not entirely new (Tom Holst has a few books dealing with what happens to forgotten gods...and even Terry Pratchett has dealt with the idea), what distinguishes Gaiman's work is his peerless ability to craft work that is engaging, provocative, and artistic. His characterization is flawless (especially the way he deals with the gods themselves...we never really know their motives...we are always trying to humanize them, but he slips little details in now and then that force us to realize how utterly inhuman they really are), his pacing is quick, and his plot twists just kill me. In fact, my only complaint-which-is-not-really a complaint is that I'll never be able to read this book the same way again. I KNOW what's happening now, why people do what they do, and that incredible suspense and delighted shock will be very hard to come by. I envy all you who haven't read it yet...
So, having dealt with AG, I immediately went out and procurred for myself all of Gaiman's other works. I started with 'Smoke and Mirrors' a beautiful collection of short stories which really emphasizes two things: how incredibly vast Gaiman's creativity really is (he tackles everything from sex to Beowulf to computer games with equal ease and a slightly skewed viewpoint that always keeps you wondering what's up next), and how efficient and economical his style is (that's more of a compliment than it seems. His hundred-word story on the origins of Santa is one of the most vivid, chilling things I have ever read.), he sets the mood with one or two choice words, conveys character by noting a single physical feature or personality quirk. I am mortally jealous.
'Neverwhere' was next...a frantic cross between Alice in Wonderland and Cyberpunk without the technology (um...yup). Set in the alternate realities of the London Underground, I at first expected this one to be hard to get in to. What do I know about the London subway? Surely it would all be some big in-joke for Londonites. Nope. It's gritty, very realistic, yet purely supernatural. And this is one of the most unique things I've ever read. I'd be hard-pressed to choose a favourite from among his works...but this is the one I'm leaning towards.
I finished with 'Stardust' a simple, lyrical work that began life as a series of graphic novels and was later condensed into basic prose. This is a straightforward fairy tale. What amazes me is how completely Gaiman's style changes from work to work. There are no hard edges here, it's all slightly fuzzed and lit from behind. This is not our reality (so unlike Neverwhere, where Gaiman was making everything very real).
Mmmm. And now I wait. It's been a long time since I curled up for a few weeks with a bunch of great books (the last time involved McMaster-Bujold's Vorkosigan series...recommended by yet another friend whose literary tastes I respect). It's hard to get back to a life without new Neil Gaiman stuff waiting at home for me. Ah well. 'Anansi Boys', the follow up to AG will be out in hardcover in September.
