Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Gaiman, Neil Gaiman -- A Review


The problem with a new book by an author I particularly like, is that I expect it to be like the other books by that author. Even when I know it’s going to be different. Neil Gaiman’s Trigger Warning is very different from the other Gaiman books I’ve read.
It’s a collection of short fiction, and I’ve only read his novels. Already I’m in unfamiliar territory. But with Neil Gaiman it’s always unfamiliar territory. He writes fairy tales and myths for grownups. If you haven’t read him before, let me recommend Stardust, then Good Omens (which he did with Terry Pratchett,) and American Gods. Each is very different from the other, but they all do the same good things. They take you on exciting journeys, provide you with interesting companions, and never, ever do the expected.
He’s also written numerous children’s books including Coraline, which I love, and The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish, which I gave to my youngest grandchild Silas. The Ocean at the End of the Lane was for oldest Martha. And a copy of Stardust for the middle grandchild John Riley. All three were signed by Mr. Gaiman last February. That book-signing was certainly memorable – all properly documented in a blog post. See Neil Gaiman Book Signing.
Trigger Warning starts out with a lengthy introduction which I skipped after only the tiniest taste. I’m a cut-to-the-chase kind of woman. What he thinks, what inspires him, where each story was first published or aired (in the case of the Doctor Who episodes) these are of interest to many, but I’m here for the stories.
The first two stories just didn’t do it for me. I was on the verge of disappointment. But the third? The third was the Neil Gaiman I love. “The Thing about Cassandra” is a story about a very commonplace happening in a man’s past. Or was it commonplace? Did it happen? It’s that little zone in your mind, the thinnest of lines between reality and memory that we all have. And I was hooked.

The next Gaiman book on my to-read list is Ocean at the End of the Lane. Maybe I can borrow it from my granddaughter.

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