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A review by jeremychiasson
The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
5.0
It was my understanding that Gaiman was in a creative ebb since American Gods, but "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" has certainly shattered that idea. This one took me by surprise!
This was a haunting reverie of a book, otherworldly yet viscerally real. Gaiman really captures that intense, quasi-fantastical private world of childhood, better than he did in his actual children's books!
Although a younger reader could tackle this (minus a few scenes), I disagree with the people who claim this is a children's book just dressed up in adult's clothing. Yes it's short, yes it is a book that is very much about childhood, but the point of view is distinctly adult. It's almost an elegy to childhood, and you can't really appreciate an elegy to something you are currently experiencing. This is also why imagine that my relationship with this book will age well over time.
A major Gaiman fan in the bookstore told me that Neil has been mostly writing short stories lately. I think learning that form has improved his writing, because this book was the model of economy. There was no wasted space, whereas something like American Gods felt a little baggy and uneven in parts.
Beyond everything else I mentioned above, "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" was superbly written. It was filled to the brim with beautiful sentences. This is the work of someone who lovingly, painstakingly crafts his every phrase. So, on that note I shall close my review with a handful of choice quotes from the text:
“I saw the world I had walked since my birth and I understood how fragile it was, that the reality was a thin layer of icing on a great dark birthday cake writhing with grubs and nightmares and hunger.”
“Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. Truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.”
“Adults follow paths. Children explore. Adults are content to walk the same way, hundreds of times, or thousands; perhaps it never occurs to adults to step off the paths, to creep beneath rhododendrons, to find the spaces between fences."
This was a haunting reverie of a book, otherworldly yet viscerally real. Gaiman really captures that intense, quasi-fantastical private world of childhood, better than he did in his actual children's books!
Although a younger reader could tackle this (minus a few scenes), I disagree with the people who claim this is a children's book just dressed up in adult's clothing. Yes it's short, yes it is a book that is very much about childhood, but the point of view is distinctly adult. It's almost an elegy to childhood, and you can't really appreciate an elegy to something you are currently experiencing. This is also why imagine that my relationship with this book will age well over time.
A major Gaiman fan in the bookstore told me that Neil has been mostly writing short stories lately. I think learning that form has improved his writing, because this book was the model of economy. There was no wasted space, whereas something like American Gods felt a little baggy and uneven in parts.
Beyond everything else I mentioned above, "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" was superbly written. It was filled to the brim with beautiful sentences. This is the work of someone who lovingly, painstakingly crafts his every phrase. So, on that note I shall close my review with a handful of choice quotes from the text:
“I saw the world I had walked since my birth and I understood how fragile it was, that the reality was a thin layer of icing on a great dark birthday cake writhing with grubs and nightmares and hunger.”
“Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. Truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.”
“Adults follow paths. Children explore. Adults are content to walk the same way, hundreds of times, or thousands; perhaps it never occurs to adults to step off the paths, to creep beneath rhododendrons, to find the spaces between fences."