Neil Gaiman

Stand-alone novels:

Stardust — (1997) Available for download at Audible.com and made into a film.  Publisher: In the sleepy English countryside of decades past, there is a town that has stood on a jut of granite for six hundred years. And immediately to the east stands a high stone wall, for which the village is named. Here in the town of Wall, Tristran Thorn has lost his heart to the hauntingly beautiful Victoria Forester. One crisp October night, as they watch, a star falls from the sky, and Victoria promises to marry Tristran if he'll retrieve that star and bring it back for her. It is this promise that sends Tristran through the only gap in the wall, across the meadow, and into the most unforgettable adventure of his life.In the sleepy English countryside of decades past, there is a town that has stood on a jut of granite for six hundred years. And immediately to the east stands a high stone wall, for which the village is named. Here in the town of Wall, Tristran Thorn has losthis heart to the hauntingly beautiful Victoria Forester. One crisp October night, as they watch, a star falls from the sky, and Victoria promises to marry Tristran if he'll retrieve that star and bring it back for her. It is this promise that sends Tristran through the only gap in the wall, across the meadow, and into the most unforgettable adventure of his life.

Stardust

Neil Gaiman's Stardust chronicles the origin and life of the young Englishman Tristran Thorn, in particular his quest to retrieve, for the woman he fancies, a star that has fallen in the land of Faerie, which begins just beyond his village of Wall. But Tristran isn't the only one who seeks the star, and the star itself is much more than he imagined ...

Gaiman weaves a quickly paced, beautifully structured adult fairy tale — 'adult' because it doesn't neglect the human experiences of sex, death and time. His language is that of the gifted storyteller — clear, concise and lyrical, resonant with mythic lore and archetypes. I highly recommend this book (even as a new purchase) for fans of fantasy, fairy tales, mythology, and/or romance, as well as for those who simply enjoy a well-told tale.

It would be a disservice to an interested reader to make this review any longer. Do read this one. Five enchanting stars. —Rob Rhodes

Stardust

Go, And Catch a Falling Star...

If you like fantasy stories filled with magic, adventure and romance, but are getting sick and tired of boring, long-winded fantasy epics, then look no further than Stardust. There are no long histories, family trees or endless descriptions of culture, landscapes and back-story. This is just a sweet, simple fairytale told by a great storyteller. Though be warned — the original fairytales were not written for children, and Stardust follows in their literary footsteps, by including several violent, sensual and bittersweet scenes. It might be tempting to read this book aloud to children (particularly if you've seen the recent movie adaptation), but this is something I would strongly advise against!

Set in the Victorian Era out in the English countryside, the town of Wall is named so because of the simple-looking wall that divides our world from the realm of Faerie. The two worlds are kept strictly separate (or so the town officials would like to believe) except for a few days every nine years when a faerie marketplace crosses the wall, and Wall itself is turned into a bustling metropolis as travelers from around the world arrive to consort with the fey-folk. Neil Gaiman pours delicious detail into this mingling of two worlds, describing the fairy markets with such obvious relish that you'll be surprised how long the book takes to get to the "meat" of the story in the quest narrative (not that this is a bad thing).

It is at one such meeting of worlds that young Tristian Thorn is conceived. Eighteen years later (and unaware of his faerie-heritage) Tristian has been raised by his father Dunstan Thorn and fallen in love with Victoria Forester, a girl hopelessly out of his league. However, he manages to wrangle an agreement with her: for her hand in marriage, he will fetch her the falling star that they've both just seen fall from the sky.

Little does he know, that the falling star has been witnessed by several others in Faerie: a witch that desires the star to rejuvenate her and her sisters to their youth, and the princely sons of the realm of Stormhold, who are after a gemstone to solidify their claim to the throne, which is currently worn around the star's neck. These various story threads gradually converge as the story goes on, though the tale mainly focuses on the tempestuous relationship that forms between Tristian and Yvaine the star (who naturally takes the form of a beautiful young woman).

There are little subplots and threads of other stories strewn throughout the book, quite reminiscent of Michael Ende's use of the phrase: "that is another story and shall be told another time," in The Neverending Story, or of the collected fairytales of the Brothers Grimm, whose stories have a variety of characters who pop in and out of their tales, seemingly at random. But Gaiman's range of characters and little "plot tangents" serve to give one the sense that there is more going on in the world than the trials and tribulations of our two main characters.

If anything, the ending is a little anti-climactic (especially when compared to the aforementioned movie version) and the final line of the book doesn't pack quite the bittersweet punch that I think Gaiman intended, but ultimately this is a lovely little story that wouldn't feel out of place next to Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market and Other Poems or the works of Lord Dunsany. If you've read anything by Lord Dunsany (a forerunner to Tolkien himself) then there's no reason not to enjoy Stardust — in fact Neil Gaiman himself pays homage to this early fantasy author by quoting his famous "beyond the fields we know" phrase from The King of Elfland's Daughter (and mentions the author in his dedication).

Stardust has recently been adapted into a movie, which in many ways improves on several aspects of its source material, particularly in a more climactic finish and the fleshing out of minor characters (although others suffer, such as Victoria, who really isn't such a bad sort in the book, but is portrayed as a spoilt little snot in the film). But Stardust was filmed with a more tongue-in-cheek air, in the tradition of The Princess Bride, and looses some of the mystery and delicacy that Gaiman infuses his story with: let's call it the "fey quality." And though the ending of the film was more satisfying, it's not quite as poignant or thought-provoking. In any case, I recommend both book and movie, and can attest that I own and enjoy both! —Rebecca Fisher

Stardust (audio)

Stardust is a charming novel and beautifully written. The language is simple, concise, and to-the-point (I appreciate not having to re-read convoluted sentences). If you're looking for a deep, dark epic that's heavy on description, characterization, political intrigue, and plot twists, this isn't it. This is a light break from the heavy stuff. It's fun and entertaining. The plot is quick and has a bit of the Princess Bride feel in that it's purposely a bit silly in places.

I listened to Stardust in audiobook format, which I highly recommend because Neil Gaiman himself is the reader, and he does an excellent job. His voice is smooth and pleasant and there are none of those little problems where the reader stresses the wrong word or uses the wrong tone because (s)he didn't realize exactly what the author was trying to get across. I really enjoyed hearing the author read his own book, and there was an interesting interview with Mr Gaiman after the story.

A fun and easy read, especially for Princess Bride fans. Try the audiobook!! —Kat Hooper

Good Omens — (1990) With Terry Pratchett. Publisher: According to the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter — the world's only totally reliable guide to the future — the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just after tea. Which means that Armageddon will happen on a Saturday night. There will be seas of fire, rains of fish, the moon turning to blood and the massed armies of Heaven and Hell will sort it outonce and for all. Which is a major problem for Crowley, Hell's most approachable demon and former serpent, and his opposite number and old friend Aziraphale, genuine angel and Soho bookshop owner. They like it down here (or, in Crowley's case, up here). So they've got no alternative but to stop the Four Motorcyclists of the Apocalypse, defeat the marching ranks of the Witchfinder's army and — somehow — stop it all happening. Above all (or, in Aziraphale's case, below all) they need to find and kill the Antichrist, currently the most powerful creature on Earth. This is a shame. Because he's eleven years old, loves his dog even though it's really a Satanic hellhound under all that hair, really cares about the environment and is the sort of boy anyone would be proud to have as a son. He's also totally invulnerable, and a nice kid. And if that isn't enough, they've still got Sunday to deal with... All two of them.

Neverwhere — (1996) Publisher: Under the streets of London there is a world of which most people could never dream. When Richard Mayhew accidentally stumbles on this hidden city of monsters, saints, murderers and angels, he is catapulted from a safe and predictable world into one that is eerily familiar yet utterly bizarre.

Neverwhere

Richard Mayhew has a life that most men would envy: He’s got a good job, a nice apartment in London, and he’s about to be married to a beautiful wealthy woman. But when he stops to help a girl (named Door) in the street, Richard soon finds that he’s slipped through the cracks into Neverwhere: a magical and frightening underground London that people like Richard never knew existed. How could he have known that his Random Act of Kindness would ruin everything? And, most importantly, how can he get his old life back?

Neil Gaiman rarely fails to amuse me with his creative concepts, quirky humor, and over-the-top villains, and Neverwhere, the novelization of his BBC television program of the same name, has all that. What it doesn’t have is a tight and gripping plot or exciting and well-developed heroes. Richard is an average guy who’s mostly along for the ride and Door and her monster-hunter bodyguard (named Hunter) aren’t too stimulating either. The best characters are the caricatured villains, Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar, ancient assassins who enjoy killing famous world leaders and biting the heads off kittens. This is totally and purposely overdone, and humorous because of it.

What makes Neverwhere worth reading is, without doubt, its wonderfully fantastical setting: an alternate London Underground. After visiting Neverwhere, you’ll never look at a London Tube Station map the same way again. Ever wonder how Earl’s Court Station got its name? Well, obviously, because a medieval lord holds court there. Who are the Blackfriars? And what about Islington at Angel Station? You’ll meet them all and discover what they’re up to in Neverwhere. I am not familiar with Underground London, but Neil Gaiman made me want to don a headlamp and begin exploring its closed off tunnels and tracks (“Mind the Gap!”). He could have done more with this setting, so I hope that someday he’ll write another novel in this world (a sequel has been rumored for years).

The other aspect of Neverwhere that I think is really well done is Richard’s confusion about what is real. Is he really in another world below London, or is he just going mad? It’s estimated that ⅓ to ½ of the homeless are schizophrenic and Gaiman captured their delusional behaviors so well, explaining them in the context of Neverwhere.

“Neil Himself” narrated the audio version I listened to. He’s a good reader and his voice is always pleasant, but I think it’s a little too light and upbeat for some of the darker scenes in Neverwhere. Still, it’s nice to hear the author’s interpretation of his own work. —Kat Hooper

Smoke and Mirrors: Short Fictions and Illusions — (1998) Acollection of short stories by Neil Gaiman, including: an elderly woman who finds the Holy Grail beneath an old fur coat in a second-hand store; and a stray cat who fights a terrible nightly battle to protect his unwary adoptive family from unimaginable evil.

Smoke and Mirrors

Neil Gaiman's place on my personal "favorite authors list" is cemented firmly by Smoke and Mirrors, a versatile collection of his short stories and narrative poems. There is a wide variety of "types" of story here, from fantasy to horror to mystery to wildly hilarious comedy. I liked almost all of them.

Neil Gaiman's two finest gifts are (1) humor, and (2) truly scary horror that gets under your skin rather than just grossing you out with gore. He flexes his humor muscles with such outstanding fare as "Chivalry" (the story of an old woman who buys the Holy Grail at a thrift shop), "We Can Get Them For You Wholesale" (about hit men with discount rates), "One Life, Furnished in Early Moorcock" (about a young boy and his love for fantasy novels), and "Shoggoth's Old Peculiar" (believe it or not, a funny Cthulhu story, about strange towns, getting drunk, and Things that live under the ocean).

As for horror, there is the story in the intro, "The Wedding Present," which is sort of a "Marriage of Dorian Gray," plus several other standouts including two of the narrative poems, "The White Road" (a montage of Bluebeard tales) and another, whose name I forget, about a woman who is vanished by a magician and never reappears. Truly creepy and hauntingly sad as well.

If you like psychological horror, dry humor, or anything of the sort, you'll love this. —Kelly Lasiter

American Gods — (2000) Publisher: After three years in prison, Shadow has done his time. But as the days, then the hours, then the hours, then the seconds until his release tick away, he can feel a storm building. Two days before he gets out, his wife Laura dies in a mysterious car crash, in apparently adulterous circumstances. Dazed, Shadow travels home, only to encounter the bizarre Mr Wednesday claiming to be a refugee from a distant war, a former god and the king of America. Together they embark on a very strange journey across the States, along the way solving the murders which have occurred every winter in one small American town. But they are being pursued by someone with whom Shadow must make his peace... Disturbing,gripping and profoundly strange, Neil Gaiman's epic new novel sees him on the road to finding the soul of America.

American Gods

This is a bad land for Gods... The old gods are ignored. The new gods are as quickly taken up as they are abandoned, cast aside for the next big thing. Either you've been forgotten, or you're scared you're going to be rendered obsolete, or maybe you're just getting tired of existing on the whims of people.

Shadow, just out of prison and with nothing to go home to, is hired to be Mr. Wednesday's bodyguard as he travels around America to warn all the other incarnations of gods, legends, and myths, that “a storm is coming.” There's going to be a battle between the old gods who were brought to melting pot America by their faithful followers generations ago, and the new gods of technology, convenience, and individuality.

That's the premise of Neil Gaiman's American Gods and it's just crackling with promise! But unfortunately, that's not really what this novel is about. It's what the novel keeps telling us it's about (and what many critics told us it was about), but it doesn't deliver.

Yes, there are plenty of gods, myths, and legends, and Gaiman does great things with some of them (e.g., Ibis the undertaker and Mr. Nancy) but most are never developed and a reader who has not read an encyclopedia of folklore probably won't catch all the clever allusions.

Yes, there's Neil Gaiman's characteristic style, which I always enjoy. His prose is clean, unvarnished, and exquisite. His characters are recognizable; His America is recognizable. In fact, this was the best part of the book (and what Gaiman does so well) — Shadow's roadtrip across the United States gave Gaiman plenty of opportunities to showcase his humorous insights into the human condition and, in this case, small-town American life. This was lovely, and I enjoyed these parts of the book.

The problem with American Gods was that the plot, meandering this way and that across the continent, never solidified. Shadow goes to this American town, meets a few gods and legends, goes to this other place, meets a couple more... There are numerous short stories detailing the lives of these gods and the people who worshipped them, so we expect to see some of these folks again (perhaps at this coming battle), but we don't. A few weird mystical things happen to Shadow and we anticipate an explanation for those occurrences. Then there's a sub-plot involving Shadow's undead wife who asks Shadow to bring her back to life.

I don't want to ruin it for anybody, but let me say that the “storm” we're promised doesn't materialize. Every time there's a conflict, or a tight spot, someone suddenly shows up and, knowingly or unknowingly, takes care of it. Shadow (and his dead wife) figure out what the bad guys are going to do before they do it. Characters who we hoped might play a bigger role, and events that seemed to be significant, just fade away. The whole thing kind of fizzles. The plot twists at the end aren't clever or inventive — they just seem to be there to fit the role of “obligatory plot twist.”

The premise of American Gods has so much promise. I was anticipating some poignant social commentary on America and our habits of worship. After all, American Gods is a best-selling award-winning novel and I expect great things from Neil Gaiman. But it didn't happen this time and I really can't explain the critical acclaim for this novel. —Kat Hooper

Coraline — (2002) Ages 9-12. Available for download at Audible.com Publisher: The day after they moved in, Coraline went exploring... In Coraline's family's new flat are twenty-one windows and fourteen doors. Thirteen of the doors open and close. The fourteenth is locked, and on the other side is only a brick wall, until the day Coraline unlocks the door to find a passage to another flat in another house just like her own. Only it's different. At first, things seem marvelous in the other flat. The food is better. The toy box is filled with wind-up angels that flutter around the bedroom, books whose pictures writhe and crawl and shimmer, little dinosaur skulls thatchatter their teeth. But there's another mother, and another father, and they want Coraline to stay with them and be their little girl. They want to change her and never let her go. Other children are trapped there as well, lost souls behind the mirrors. Coraline is their only hope of rescue. She will have to fight with all her wits and all the tools she can find if she is to save the lost children, her ordinary life, and herself.

Coraline

Coraline’s family has just moved into a new flat. Her parents are always busy with their own work and Coraline (please don’t call her Caroline) has no friends or siblings to play with. She spends her time exploring her new apartment complex and the surrounding grounds. She’s got some eccentric neighbors: two little old ladies who love to reminisce about their time on the stage and an old man who trains mice to sing and dance.

But what’s really strange is the extra door in Coraline’s flat. It doesn’t go anywhere. Coraline’s mom says it used to connect to the vacant flat next door, but now it’s bricked up. Except that it’s not always bricked up... sometimes it does go somewhere…

Coraline is a terrific little heroine. Curious and brave, but appropriately cautious, she sets out to discover what’s in the vacant flat. And though what’s there seems rather wonderful at first, Coraline soon realizes that it’s actually rather horrible. Not in a bloody gory kind of way, but in a spooky, spine-tingling, why-the-heck-is-this-so-scary kind of way.

Neil Gaiman understands creepy: buttons for eyes, long red tapping fingernails, long dark hallways, talking rats, trapped and soulless children… I’m not sure why, but just the thought of an “other mother” automatically evokes goosebumps — How incredibly disturbing! The eeriness is accented with excellently terrifying drawings by Dave McKean (who did the Sandman covers).

Coraline is excellent fantasy for sensitive but brave children who like to squirm. I read it to my daughters, and I’m sure I squirmed just as much as they did. My girls enjoyed Coraline’s adventure and maybe now they’ll even be a little less put out when Mommy is too busy to play. —Kat Hooper

Adventures in the Dream Trade — (2002) Publisher: A collection of short stories, essays, poems, song lyrics, and a weblog from the time that his novel American Gods was going to press.

Adventures in the Dream Trade

When I first saw Adventures in the Dream Trade, I was genuinely surprised because I never knew it existed. I found it in a specialty bookstore, and was going for a relatively high selling price. Still, thinking that it was a rare Neil Gaiman book, I shelled out the cash for it and I did find out it really was a rare Neil Gaiman book due to its small print-run. And anyone who's read it will know why.

Adventures in the Dream Trade collects various introductions and essays by Gaiman, a few poems, songs, really short fiction (the equivalent tern would be fast-food fiction), and several months worth of blog entries tackling the publiation of American Gods. Why do I mention this? Because it shows you who should buy this book. Adventures in the Dream Trade doesn't really have a huge, encompassing story for most people to read, and the snippets of fiction that it has, as good as it is, isn't worth the price I paid for. There are two kinds of people who should read it, much less buy it. First are those die-hard Gaiman fans, who must know everything about him and read everything he writes. It'll be a cheaper investment to buy this book rather than purchase, say, every comic or book he's written an introduction for. The seconnd type of person who could wade through the thing would be people genuinely interested in the book publishing process. Gaiman's blog entries provide an insightful look at the industry, post-submission of the manuscript for American Gods. We find out the nitty-gritty of editing, translating, reviewing, and touring. Oh, and Gaiman really loves Sushi a lot.

The first part, which is perhaps the second chunkiest part of the book, contains lots of introductions and essays by Gaiman. Going through the first half of them can be tiring, because most of them can be summed up as 90% (or 99%) of comics is trash, and guess what percentage this one belongs to? Of course you might be tempted to get the comics/books yourselves after reading the intro, but that's your perogative. It gets better in the second half as it's more insight into Gaiman and the kind of fiction he likes rather than blatant plugging of a title.

The poetry part is a short segment and it's simple. It's not really long. Then we come to the songs he wrote for the Flash Girls, except he's no Weis & Hickman, so we don't really know the tune or beat the song is sung to. But you're a die-hard Gaiman fan, so you won't mind.

Then the real meat of the book are his blog entries, minus the pictures he posted on the website. Now penny-pinchers might argue why pay for something that's on the web and free? Because reading in print is different and it's easier to have them there all ready to read, instead of waiting for your browser to load each and every page. And as I mentioned above, it's insightful for those who want to know about the publishing industry, or Gaiman in general.

The last part contains a few, rare, short stories. They've been published before, but good luck looking for those original publications. And they're three pages long at most, so don't hold your breath. Still, Gaiman's writing is still good working with such conditions.

Obviously, the book rules out mass-market consumption because of the subject it tackles (then again, there were a few thousand Neil Gaiman fans bothered to show up during his visit here, so reprinting it for the Philippines might not be a bad idea). Still, would-be-writers planning to start a career as a novelist might want to pick up the book, as well as the rabid Gaiman fanatic. —Charles Tan
FanLit thanks Charles Tan from Bibliophile Stalker for contributing this guest review.

Anansi Boys — (2005) Publisher: God is dead. Meet the kids. When Fat Charlie's dad named something, it stuck. Like calling Fat Charlie "Fat Charlie." Even now, twenty years later, Charlie Nancy can't shake that name, one of the many embarrassing "gifts his father bestowed — before he dropped dead on a karaoke stage and ruined Fat Charlie's life. Mr. Nancy left Fat Charlie things. Things like the tall good-looking stranger who appears on Charlie's doorstep, who appears to be the brother he never knew. A brother as different from Charlie as night is to day, a brother who's going to show Charlie how to lighten up and have a little fun... just like Dear Old Dad. And all of a sudden, life starts getting very interesting for Fat Charlie. Because, you see, Charlie's dad wasn't just any dad. He was Anansi, a trickster god, the spider-god. Anansi is the spirit of rebellion — he is able to overturn the social order, create wealth out of thin air, and baffle the devil. Exciting, scary, and deeply funny, Anansi Boys is a kaleidoscope journey deep into myth, a wild adventure, and a fierce and unstoppable farce, as Neil Gaiman shows us where gods come from, and how to survive your family.

Anansi Boys (audio)

Neil Gaiman + Lenny Henry = Twice the Entertainment

I love Neil Gaiman. You know that old 1960s footage of the all the American girls jumping up and down screaming hysterically when the Beatles visited the US? That's how I feel about Neil Gaiman. (Okay, maybe I wouldn't scream or pass out, but I sure think he's cool.) I like his style — his writing is easy, intelligent, well-edited, dryly humorous, and just plain charming.

Anansi Boys is no exception, and it's especially charming in audio format, thanks to Lenny Henry, an English stand-up comedian whose deep rich voice and character comedy is absolutely perfect for this novel which is based on the African/Caribbean mythology of the trickster spider god Anansi (introduced in American Gods). Henry's voices are brilliant (especially the old Caribbean women) and he had me literally smiling nearly all the way through the story. Actually, if it weren't for Lenny Henry, I'd have to say that I probably would only give this novel 4 stars instead of 4.5.

That's because this is not Gaiman's tightest work. It's about Fat Charlie, a Floridian turned Englishman, who was leading a rather dull life as an honest accountant until the brother he didn't know he had turns up and he finds out that they are both the sons of the god Anansi. This is all very entertaining, especially for a Floridian who enjoyed Charlie's travels to places I know, and Gaiman tells his humorous story with the usual charm:

Fat Charlie tried to remember what people did in prison to pass the time, but all he could come up with was keeping secret diaries and hiding things in their bottoms. He had nothing to write on, and felt that a definite measure of how well one was getting on in life was not having to hide things in one's bottom... Nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen. More Nothing. The Return of Nothing. Son of Nothing. Nothing Rides Again. Nothing and Abbott and Costello meet the Wolfman...

But at the end there were some things I still didn't understand: what exactly was the origin of Spider (I can't say as much as I'd like to about this because I don't want to spoil it), why weren't the other gods (and even Anansi himself) more fully characterized? The scenes involving the god-world were sketchy — we really get only a minimal understanding of Tiger, Anansi's eternal enemy — and Charlie's sudden understanding and acceptance of his powers happens too fast. And then there were some oddities that just didn't seem to fit in — like the ghost of one of Charlie's boss's clients.

But, even with these minor disappointments, I thoroughly enjoyed listening to this novel because Neil Gaiman wrote it and Lenny Henry read it. Recommended, especially in audio format. —Kat Hooper

Fragile Things: Short Fictions And Wonders — (2006) Publisher: A mysterious circus terrifies an audience for one extraordinary performance before disappearing into the night, taking one of the spectators along with it... In a novella set two years after the events of American Gods, Shadow pays a visit to an ancient Scottish mansion, and finds himself trapped in a game of murder and monsters... In a Hugo Award-winning short story set in a strangely altered Victorian England, the great detective Sherlock Holmes must solve a most unsettling royal murder... Two teenage boys crash a party and meet the girls of their dreams — and nightmares... In a Locus Award-winning tale, the members of an excusive epicurean club lament that they've eaten everything that can be eaten, with the exception of a legendary, rare, and exceedingly dangerous Egyptian bird... Such marvelous creations and more — including a short story set in the world of The Matrix, and others set in the worlds of gothic fiction and children's fiction — can be found in this extraordinary collection, which showcases Gaiman's storytelling brilliance as well as his terrifyingly entertaining dark sense of humor. By turns delightful, disturbing, and diverting, Fragile Things is a gift of literary enchantment from one of the most unique writers of our time.

Fragile Things

This collection comes with 31 short stories and poems as well as an introduction that's as compelling as Smoke and Mirrors. Of all of Gaiman's collections, I think this is by far the most superior as it features more of his later work and has a more polished style.

I've also read several of the stories here before in various anthologies but it was great to revisit them as I wasn't the same reader I was several years ago. Reading them today, I enjoyed them more the second time around.

Here's my top three stories: "A Study in Emerald" is a hybrid between Lovecraft and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Gaiman parallels the original Sherlock Holmes story quite well while infusing it with his own unique elements.

"Sunbird," on the other hand, is quite mythic and having read this story the second time made it an even greater read as this is one of those stories that is seeded quite well.

"The Monarch of the Glen" features one of my favorite Gaiman characters from American Gods and, while I didn't quite get it the first time around back in 2004, reading it now made perfect sense and was quite an enjoyable experience. Overall, this is a fun collection that's not intimidating and is easily accessible. Gaiman's prose, in my opinion, has been evolving for the better and it's evident in Fragile Things

Oh, and you get poems to boot. —Charles Tan (guest)
FanLit thanks Charles Tan from Bibliophile Stalker for contributing this guest review.

Interworld — (2007) With Michael Reaves. Publisher: Joey Harker isn't a hero. In fact, he's the kind of guy who gets lost in his own house. But then one day, Joey gets really lost. He walks straight out of his world and into another dimension. Joey's walk between the worlds makes him prey to two terrible forces — armies of magic and science who will do anything to harness his power to travel between dimensions. When he sees the evil those forces are capable of, Joey makes the only possible choice: tojoin an army of his own, an army of versions of himself from different dimensions who all share his amazing power and who are all determined to fight to save the worlds.

Interworld

In Interworld, Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves manage to tell a story that's full of science-fiction elements and concepts but is yet quite accessible to any reader, young or old. The premise is simple and isn't anything new as far as sci-fi tropes are concerned: a kid with no sense of direction discovers he can travel the multiverse. Of course during this short novel, various themes and issues are tackled without detracting from the story.

The strength of Interworld, I think, are the characters. Joey Harker, the protagonist, is quite sympathetic and compelling, yet he's not the only interesting character. There's the mysterious Jay, the wise Mr. Dimas, and the various cast of villains.

If there's anything lacking in Interworld, it's the sense that there's something more; Once you finish, you know it's begging for a sequel because the journey has merely begun.

Interworld can best be summed up with the following words: simple language, big ideas, lovable characters, compelling story. —Charles Tan
FanLit thanks Charles Tan from Bibliophile Stalker for contributing this guest review.

M is for Magic — (2007) Ages 9-12. Publisher: Master storyteller Neil Gaiman presents a breathtaking collection of tales for younger readers that may chill or amuse, but that always embrace the unexpected:

• Humpty Dumpty's sister hires a private detective to investigate her brother's death.
• A teenage boy who has trouble talking to girls finds himself at a rather unusual party.
• A boy raised in a graveyard makes a discovery, and confronts the much more troubling world of the living.

M is for Magic

M is for Magic's title is an homage to the short story collections of Ray Bradbury and is a worthy successor. (Now if only we had 25 more short story collections to complete the alphabet.) Gaiman's stories in this collection are easy reads that both young readers and adults will enjoy. It has a diverse set of stories, everything from mystery to coming-of-age to horror. There's even a poem that managed to sneak into this collection.

Gaiman’s prose is quite easy to understand yet nonetheless charming. A welcome read for any occasion, although the hefty hardcover price might detract some people from buying it immediately. Personally though, I think it's well worth a hardback purchase. —Charles Tan
FanLit thanks Charles Tan from Bibliophile Stalker for contributing this guest review.

Odd and the Frost Giants — (2008) Ages 9-12. Publisher: Odd's luck has been bad so far. He lost his father on a Viking expedition, his foot was crushed beneath a tree, and the winter seems to be going on forever. But when Odd flees to the woods and releases a trapped bear, his luck begins to change. Theeagle, bear and fox he encounters reveal they're actually Nordic gods, trapped in animal form by the evil Frost Giants who have conquered Asgard, the city of the gods. Can a twelve-year-old boy reclaim Thor's hammer, outwit the Frost Giants and release the gods?

Odd and the Frost Giants

Odd’s childhood has not been easy. His father has died, his leg is crippled, his new stepfather is unpleasant, and the winter just won’t end. So, Odd decides to go off to stay in his father’s old hut in the woods. Soon he’s befriended by a bear, a fox, and an eagle. But these aren’t your normal bear, fox, and eagle — these animals can talk, and they tell Odd that they are the gods Loki, Thor, and Odin. They’ve temporarily lost their powers and their home to the Frost Giants. Bravely, young Odd sets out across a beautifully enchanting winter landscape to help the gods get home.

Odd and the Frost Giants is a short and sweet adventure fantasy for boys and girls which is based on Norse mythology. I listened to the audio version (2 hours long) which was produced by Harper Children’s Audio and read by Neil Gaiman himself. Gaiman’s reading is charming — it sounds just as if he’s telling the story to his own children at bedtime.

Except for the initial sadness and isolation that Odd feels, there’s not much tension in Odd and the Frost Giants. All conflicts are quickly and easily resolved, and the ending is happy. It won’t appeal much to most adults, but it’s just the sort of sweet story that will appeal to their imaginative children.
—Kat Hooper

The Graveyard Book — (2008) Ages 9-12. Publisher: Bod is an unusual boy who inhabits an unusualplace — he's the only living resident of a graveyard. Raised from infancy by the ghosts, werewolves, and other cemetery denizens, Bod has learned the antiquated customs of his guardians' time as well as their timely ghostly teachings — like the ability to Fade. Can a boy raised by ghosts face the wonders and terrors of the worlds of both the living and the dead? And then there are things like ghouls that aren't really onething or the other. This chilling tale is Neil Gaiman's first full-length novel for middle-grade readers since the internationally bestselling and universally acclaimed Coraline. Like Coraline, this book is sure to enchant and surprise young readers as well as Neil Gaiman's legion of adult fans.

The Graveyard Book

Ignore the YA label slapped on this one if that gives you pause. Though that won’t be hard to do because The Graveyard Book opens with a hand in the darkness holding a knife wet with the blood of almost an entire family: father, mother, and older child. The knife lacks only the blood of the toddler son to finish its job. Luckily for the reader (and the boy) he escapes into a nearby cemetery where a mothering ghost convinces the cemetery community to protect him. Another reason to ignore the YA label, or better yet, to revel in it, is that Neil Gaiman’s YA-listed material is stronger than his adult work: tighter, more focused, more intense all around. All that holds true here and The Graveyard Book’s clarity and brevity, often seen as constraints in the category, only enhance the book’s impact.

Chapter One sets the premise, introduces the boy (Nobody), the murderer (Jack), Mrs. and Mr. Owens (Nobody’s new parents), Silas (a non-ghost resident of the graveyard who becomes Nobody’s guardian), and several of the 300 other ghosts. Chapter Two introduces a young girl (living) named Scarlett who becomes Nobody’s playmate for a while (her parents think he’s an imaginary friend) and Chapter 3 finds Bod (his nickname) meeting a tutor/guardian named Miss Lupescu whom Silas arranges for when he can’t be around. Both Scarlett and Miss Lupescu will play major roles.

This sets the pattern for the book as whole, which is episodic in nature: we get a discrete chapter, an adventure in the cemetery (Bod is forbidden from leaving for fear that someone still wants him dead) where Bod meets a new ghostly denizen, some resolution to whatever issue forms the crux of the chapter, then we jump ahead a few years for the next chapter.

The story is compelling and scary and tense at the start, mellows and becomes charmingly, winsomely captivating as Bod grows up, then turns tensely compelling once again as Bod decides to face his family’s murderer, who is creepy enough but has behind him some chilling characters. While some may feel the episodic structure and change in tone/mood detracts somewhat, I’d say the loss of intense plot momentum is more than compensated for by the sheer delight of those middle chapters, thanks to their sharp, efficient characterization; the way they subtly nudge Bod closer to adulthood, and the way his relationships with a few of the cemetery residents deepen over time.

The dead in Neil Gaiman’s book are more alive than many a living character I’ve read. Bod’s progress toward maturity is not smooth and relentless — he makes more than his share of mistakes, flashes lots of immaturity, brings inadvertent harm to those who love him. In short, he’s as real a child as one could ask for. But, like all children he eventually will have to leave the nest and face his own troubles. This is part of the book’s brutal honesty (consider the line “death is the great democracy” and ask yourself whether most authors would be so blunt with children) and thus its movement is inevitably bittersweet, made more so by the losses Bod (and the reader) suffers.

The Graveyard Book is a gem: small, precise, beautiful, a bit otherworldly, reflective, and like some gems, sharp enough to cut yourself on in places. Highly recommended. —Bill Capossere

The Graveyard Book

There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

With those words, Neil Gaiman plunges the reader into a shadowy tale. The Graveyard Book opens with Jack, a member of a secret association that has been tasked with killing the entire Owens family, stalking through the Owens house, knife in hand, seeking the last member of the family. But Nobody Owens, a toddler, has a fondness for climbing out of his crib and going exploring. On this night, his midnight ramble takes him to the cemetery up the street, and a ghostly couple takes custody of him, along with Silas, a mysterious figure who lives in the crypt. Silas is just one of many interesting characters that either live in, or are part of, the family Nobody creates for himself in the graveyard.

The Graveyard Book is strongest when it focuses on the fight between Nobody and Jack. That translates into a very strong beginning and ending, but the story stumbles in the middle. Neil Gaiman has said that his inspiration for this novel was Kipling’s The Jungle Book, but set in a graveyard. This structure of a series of connected vignettes hobbles the narrative flow of the story. While the chapters are mostly interesting in and of themselves, it seems to keep the tension from building throughout the novel, with each chapter having an internal story arc, rather than contributing to a greater narrative flow. While Gaiman does incorporate events from each of these chapters into the climax, making them all necessary to the narrative as a whole, it makes the book read more as a short story collection than a novel. That said, the chapter Danse Macabre would make for an amazing short story by itself. It was one of the most gripping, otherworldly episodes I have ever read.

The Graveyard Book is ostensibly a children’s book, but it is one that a parent or guardian should supervise. Any book that begins with a family being stabbed to death in their home is one that stretches the boundaries of standard children’s literature. I would recommend this for older children as a chapter book with their parents’ supervision, or older readers who enjoy an interesting take on the orphan coming of age fantasy trope. —Ruth Arnell

The Dangerous Alphabet — Ages 4-8. (2008) Publisher: A is for Always, that's where we embark... Two children, treasure map in hand, and their pet gazelle sneak past their father, out of their house, and into a world beneath the city, where monsters and pirates roam. Will they find the treasure? Will they make it out alive? The Dangerous Alphabet is a tale of adventure, piracy, danger, and heroism told in twenty-six alphabetical lines — although even the alphabet is not to be relied upon here. A delightfully dangerous journey from national bestselling author Neil Gaiman and the monstrously talented Gris Grimly, The Dangerous Alphabet is sure to captivate and chill young readers.

The Dangerous Alphabet

Neil Gaiman has paired up with illustrator Gris Grimly to create The Dangerous Alphabet. This is not an alphabet book for young readers, unless you like staying up with them all night as they stare at shadows in the corner. Rather, Gaiman wrote a ghostly piratical poem in 26 lines, each starting with a letter of the alphabet, and then gave it to Gris Grimly to illustrate.

Grimly’s style is dark and grim — with a name like Gris Grimly, what do you expect? — what I can only describe as a post-apocalyptic Edward Gorey drawing left out in the rain. As much as I love art, I’m not an expert, but I think the illustrations are a combination of pen and ink with watercolor washes, and they show two little children running for their lives as they get sucked into a horrible world in the city sewers. (It’s rumored Gaiman refuses to go underground anymore.)

This gothic poem should be reserved for older children and adults, but it’s grim drawings and sparse tale will bring you back over and over again to discover the truly amazing detail two incredibly talented authors have managed to pack into 29 pages. I have an overly active imagination, so I tend not to look at art as detailed in morbidity as this, so it is quite likely that those who are less sensitive to their imagination taking hold of them will probably enjoy this more than I did. —Ruth Arnell

Blueberry Girl — (2009) Ages 4-8. Publisher: This is a prayer for a blueberry girl... A much-loved baby grows into a young woman: brave, adventurous, and lucky. Exploring, traveling, bathed in sunshine, surrounded by the wonders of the world. What every new parent or parent-to-be dreams of for her child, what every girl dreams of for herself. Let me go places that we've never been, trust and delight in her youth. Nationally bestselling author Neil Gaiman wrote Blueberry Girl for a friend who was about to become the mother of a little girl. Here, he and beloved illustrator Charles Vess turn this deeply personal wish for a new daughter into a book that celebrates the glory of growing up: a perfect gift for girls embarking on all the journeys of life, for their parents, and for everyone who loves them. Give her all these and a little bit more, gifts for a blueberry girl.

Blueberry Girl

Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess have paired up again to produce the breathtaking Blueberry Girl, a fantastical blessing poem or lullaby that Gaiman wrote for his two daughters.

Invoking “Ladies of light and ladies of darkness and ladies of never-you-mind,” Gaiman prays for blessings to be bestowed on his blueberry girl. Reminiscent of fairy godmothers — Gaiman’s prayer for protection and spindles makes that allusion even stronger — the author lists off his wishes for his daughters to be bestowed by the ladies who take different forms throughout the story in Vess’s enchanting drawings.

There is no hint of the creepy or spooky characters that haunt so many of Gaiman’s books. This is just the pure love of a father for his children. The illustrations depict a wide range of girls from various ethnic groups (though I did not see any overtly Asian-looking girls) so many little girls reading this book are likely to find someone she can identify with. I would recommend it for any parent of a daughter, or anyone involved in nurturing girls. I have a lot of new baby nieces, so this book will be a frequent gift from their favorite auntie. —Ruth Arnell

Stories: All-New Tales — (2010) Edited with Al Sarrantonio. Publisher: "The joy of fiction is the joy of the imagination... " The best stories pull readers in and keep them turning the pages, eager to discover more — to find the answer to the question: "And then what happened?" The true hallmark of great literature is great imagination, and as Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio prove with this outstanding collection, when it comes to great fiction, all genres are equal. Stories is a groundbreaking anthology that reinvigorates, expands, and redefines the limits of imaginative fiction and affords some of the best writers in the world — from Peter Straub and Chuck Palahniuk to Roddy Doyle and Diana Wynne Jones, Stewart O'Nan and Joyce Carol Oates to Walter Mosley and Jodi Picoult — the opportunity to work together, defend their craft, and realign misconceptions. Gaiman, a literary magician whose acclaimed work defies easy categorization and transcends all boundaries, and "master anthologist" (Booklist) Sarrantonio personally invited, read, and selected all the stories in this collection, and their standard for this "new literature of the imagination" is high. "We wanted to read stories that used a lightning-flash of magic as a way of showing us something we have already seen a thousand times as if we have never seen it at all." Joe Hill boldly aligns theme and form in his disturbing tale of a man's descent into evil in "Devil on the Staircase." In "Catch and Release," Lawrence Block tells of a seasoned fisherman with a talent for catching a bite of another sort. Carolyn Parkhurst adds a dark twist to sibling rivalry in "Unwell." Joanne Harris weaves a tale of ancient gods in modern New York in "Wildfire in Manhattan." Vengeance is the heart of Richard Adams's "The Knife." Jeffery Deaver introduces a dedicated psychologist whose mission in life is to save people in "The Therapist." A chilling punishment befitting an unspeakable crime is at the dark heart of Neil Gaiman's novelette "The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains." As it transforms your view of the world, this brilliant and visionary volume — sure to become a classic — will ignite a new appreciation for the limitless realm of exceptional fiction.

Instructions — (2010) Ages 4-8. Publisher: Trust Dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story. A renowned storyteller whose words have transported readers to magical realms and an acclaimed illustrator of lushly imagined fairy-tale landscapes guide a traveler safely through lands unknown and yet strangely familiar... and home again.

Instructions

As one might expect from Neil Gaiman, Instructions is an unusual little book, and despite technically being a picture book, isn't necessarily something you would give to a child. Not that the content is objectionable — just a tad incomprehensible to anyone who isn't well versed in the rules and patterns of fairytales. With that in mind, a child might be the perfect audience! I think what I'm trying to say is that Instructions is a story for those who love stories, and the more familiar you are with the tales upon which it’s based, the better you will enjoy it.

First published in A Wolf at the Door, an anthology of retold fairytales edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, Instructions centers on a Puss-in-Boots figure who traverses a fairytale world replete with familiar characters and species, guided by the words of the narrator whose wisdom comes from almost every fairytale ever told. Puss opens the wooden gate in the wall and passes through woods and castles, visiting foxes, wolves, giants, devils and witches, joined by a young cat that he helps along the way, whilst the accompanying text gives us such anecdotes as "do not be jealous of your sister," "remember your name" and "do not look back." It all rings a distant bell in the mind of the reader as they recall those ancient tenets of folklore and fairytale that have been around from time immemorial.

Charles Vess provides the illustrations (you may recall his style from Susanna Clarke's The Ladies of Grace Adieu), creating a visually simplistic but vivid world of the fairytale, in which imps crawl in the branches of treetops, princesses call from tower windows and glass slippers lie abandoned by the roadside. I think my favorite picture is the one where Puss passes over a log-bridge that spans a crevasse, his arms stretched out for balance, completely unaware that a troll lurks beneath his feet. The illustrations are detailed yet uncluttered; it is almost as if a talented child has painted them.

Altogether, Instructions is a difficult book to pin down. It's simple yet thought-provoking, short yet engrossing. Reading much like a poem, with its own tempo and rhythm, this is a picture book that demands more than one read. The only problem, I felt, was the title. It should have been called Advice.
—Rebecca Fisher

Instructions

I am a sucker for illustrated children’s books. I get quite attached to specific editions and consider it a tragedy when some of my favorite tales are reillustrated. It’s the cinematic equivalent of colorizing Casablanca. Imagine my joy to discover that Neil Gaiman, who I love, had paired up with Charles Vess on children’s books.

The two geniuses came together to create Instructions, a short tale for a reader of any age who wants to safely traverse enchanted lands. Like a fairy tale version of Where’s Waldo?, the story and illustrations cover at least three dozen fairy tales and other stories. Every time you go back to this book, the illustrations will reveal another hidden figure tucked away in the branch of a tree, or peeking out from behind a building. I had the fancy upon reading this that Cimorene from The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia Wrede would have kept this in a pocket to safely guide her through her journeys.

I would recommend Instructions for anyone who loves fairy and folk tales. The more you have read, the more you will get out of this book, which makes me feel perfectly justified in keeping it on my bookshelf as an adult. —Ruth Arnell