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A review by lanternheart
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
5.0
I’ve been told that I would enjoy Gaiman for some years now, and whenever I told someone who knows my taste in books that I hadn’t yet read anything of his, I was met by shock, a bit of awe, and babbling platitudes. However, I knew the desire to read one of his books would have to come to me in its own time, and this September was finally it.
We all know that books contain multitudes, but this book does so expertly, wonderfully, mind-bogglingly. Rarely am I so entranced by “HOW DID ALL OF THIS PLOT AND SO MANY PLACES FIT INSIDE THIS BOOK” as I am after finishing Neverwhere. London Below, and all it entails, is a fantasy world that takes no prisoners — it isn’t all perfect, or all too good and true. It’s a place full of rusting-apart courts, black humor, talking rats, and where the discarded of London Above (our London) can make a life for themselves, however hard that may be. It contains a bit of every time and yet seems to exist outside of it, a bit of every type of fantasy personality, and then a normal, London Above-r who becomes part of it.
Richard is an unlikely hero, depressed and imperfect, but one who cements his place firmly as one in the beginning of his journey: he simply helps a stranger no one else can see. Door is a heroine allowed to stand for herself, not a romantic interest for anyone, and whose tenacity and power grow proudly over the course of the book. The Marquis has so much hinted-at backstory that I’d happily read a book just about him, a statement that could well apply to any of this book’s characters. Gaiman’s prose bonds them together with magic, humor, and just a bit of darkness that I thoroughly enjoy. I was pleasantly surprised by how transporting this book could be, and how Gaiman gives us just enough detail to sink into London Below, but never too much that we’re being spoon-fed, that our imaginations can’t run wild with possibilities (and a bit of fear).
This book, like all of the best fantasy that’s adjacent to our own world, makes me feel that our reality is a bit more magical, a bit stranger than we can always see. I can’t promise not to talk to any rats I see in the future, but I’ll now always be on the lookout for strange doors, wherever they open.
We all know that books contain multitudes, but this book does so expertly, wonderfully, mind-bogglingly. Rarely am I so entranced by “HOW DID ALL OF THIS PLOT AND SO MANY PLACES FIT INSIDE THIS BOOK” as I am after finishing Neverwhere. London Below, and all it entails, is a fantasy world that takes no prisoners — it isn’t all perfect, or all too good and true. It’s a place full of rusting-apart courts, black humor, talking rats, and where the discarded of London Above (our London) can make a life for themselves, however hard that may be. It contains a bit of every time and yet seems to exist outside of it, a bit of every type of fantasy personality, and then a normal, London Above-r who becomes part of it.
Richard is an unlikely hero, depressed and imperfect, but one who cements his place firmly as one in the beginning of his journey: he simply helps a stranger no one else can see. Door is a heroine allowed to stand for herself, not a romantic interest for anyone, and whose tenacity and power grow proudly over the course of the book. The Marquis has so much hinted-at backstory that I’d happily read a book just about him, a statement that could well apply to any of this book’s characters. Gaiman’s prose bonds them together with magic, humor, and just a bit of darkness that I thoroughly enjoy. I was pleasantly surprised by how transporting this book could be, and how Gaiman gives us just enough detail to sink into London Below, but never too much that we’re being spoon-fed, that our imaginations can’t run wild with possibilities (and a bit of fear).
This book, like all of the best fantasy that’s adjacent to our own world, makes me feel that our reality is a bit more magical, a bit stranger than we can always see. I can’t promise not to talk to any rats I see in the future, but I’ll now always be on the lookout for strange doors, wherever they open.