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A review by dejnozkova
The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
“The Ocean at the End of the Lane” is the most emotional book I’ve read this year and one of my all-time favorites now. As magical and dark as “Coraline”, but with 10x the heart, the book might serve as a reflection on the darkest period of your life and reminds you how you made it through. I wouldn’t say this book has to specifically be about childhood, although that seems to be the central struggle for the protagonist. But I believe the issue of fear, loneliness, mistrust, and haunting remembrance is something anyone can relate to at any age, and so I found that the book resonated deeply enough with me that I ended up crying over my own memories from my adulthood.
I love Gaiman’s easily-digestible prose that somehow manages to manifest grand imagery, playing with shadows, the ocean, the moon, magic, fairy circles, felines, and rain. Mystical motifs glittering against the gloom and eeriness, creating a silvery contrast to the darkness. Which I think beautifully encompasses the overall tone of the book as it explores the pains that plague every person at least once in their lives, and wrapping it up in soft, shimmering tenderness.
Which brings me to the heart of why I am so in love with this book. This is a book about suffering and healing, fear and trust, anxiety and acceptance, pain and forgiveness. It’s the story of a lonely and anxious little boy who finds a friend in a magical girl who helps him to face the darkness of the world, and the darkness in himself. Together they combat monsters from another realm, and in doing so he learns that centering his pain can have even more painful ramifications. But he also learns to place his trust in others, and eventually learns self-acceptance.
This book centers childhood, with a focus on the helplessness of a child against a world of danger and the unknown. And it addresses the anxieties that children often have about their own feelings and their lack of power, especially when they feel they have no one in their own home that they can trust. But personally, as someone who has suffered mental illness (and has also caused hurt to myself and others because of it) this book struck a major chord in a different way.
Our protagonist has to fight enemies no one in his family can see or begin to understand. He feels he can trust no one. He feels that he is a burden and that he causes suffering to others, and so desperate is he to fix it that he damages the one person that is LITERALLY holding his hand through his journey. He suffers terrible grief for this, for not only has he known suffering, but he has now caused it to someone else as a result of his inability to think straight. But pain is not the end. Without giving too much away, he does learn that he is loved and accepted and he has been all along. He learns that just because his world was shrouded by his own anxieties doesn’t mean that he has to live that way forever, and it certainly doesn’t mean he has to navigate those obstacles alone. He never had to in the first place, and he will never have to in the future.
One of the most beautiful ways I’ve ever seen therapy delivered. In the most bittersweet, melancholic, gloomy, soft, tender sort of way.
I cried. A lot. It was great. 🙂
I love Gaiman’s easily-digestible prose that somehow manages to manifest grand imagery, playing with shadows, the ocean, the moon, magic, fairy circles, felines, and rain. Mystical motifs glittering against the gloom and eeriness, creating a silvery contrast to the darkness. Which I think beautifully encompasses the overall tone of the book as it explores the pains that plague every person at least once in their lives, and wrapping it up in soft, shimmering tenderness.
Which brings me to the heart of why I am so in love with this book. This is a book about suffering and healing, fear and trust, anxiety and acceptance, pain and forgiveness. It’s the story of a lonely and anxious little boy who finds a friend in a magical girl who helps him to face the darkness of the world, and the darkness in himself. Together they combat monsters from another realm, and in doing so he learns that centering his pain can have even more painful ramifications. But he also learns to place his trust in others, and eventually learns self-acceptance.
This book centers childhood, with a focus on the helplessness of a child against a world of danger and the unknown. And it addresses the anxieties that children often have about their own feelings and their lack of power, especially when they feel they have no one in their own home that they can trust. But personally, as someone who has suffered mental illness (and has also caused hurt to myself and others because of it) this book struck a major chord in a different way.
Our protagonist has to fight enemies no one in his family can see or begin to understand. He feels he can trust no one. He feels that he is a burden and that he causes suffering to others, and so desperate is he to fix it that he damages the one person that is LITERALLY holding his hand through his journey. He suffers terrible grief for this, for not only has he known suffering, but he has now caused it to someone else as a result of his inability to think straight. But pain is not the end. Without giving too much away, he does learn that he is loved and accepted and he has been all along. He learns that just because his world was shrouded by his own anxieties doesn’t mean that he has to live that way forever, and it certainly doesn’t mean he has to navigate those obstacles alone. He never had to in the first place, and he will never have to in the future.
One of the most beautiful ways I’ve ever seen therapy delivered. In the most bittersweet, melancholic, gloomy, soft, tender sort of way.
I cried. A lot. It was great. 🙂