Ahem, cough, cough. Okay, so my last post was more of a rant than I expected, but I still stand by it, despite the surly curmudgeon quality of it. So, in my quest to find an engaging book out of the mainstream of The New York Times Book Review and its delightful ilk, I finally took the advice of many people over the last few years, many of them students, and read Gaiman’s American Gods. I had read some of The Sandman in the past, but since I’m not drawn to graphic novels–I’m not opposed, but I prefer old-fashioned prose to pretty (or not) pictures–I have avoided Gaiman. I should also add that I try my best to avoid lengthy novels that I am not currently teaching because I never have time or energy to finish them, but I thought I’d give Gaiman’s 400+ page romp a try anyway.
And what a thrill! After page 10 I was hooked, and I didn’t look back. The basic plot runs as follows: a prisoner, Shadow, is released, but instead of returning to his lovely partner, now (un)dead, he meets up with one then a group of gods, discarded in the new land of the United States after having traveled from around the world in the minds and hearts of immigrants. Now these gods are fighting for their “lives” against newer gods–media and technology, for instance–and they drag Shadow around for support. I’ll stop there because the plot gets richer, but you get the the general sense of the novel.
While the prose is good but not exceptional, it is Gaiman’s concept and plot that thoroughly struck me–and apparently other readers as well, who awarded the novel the Hugo Award in 2002. What happens when people stop believing in particular gods? Where do they go? While this idea might sound trite, Gaiman deftly handles it, merging issues of belief and murder with doses of comedy. Likewise, Shadow is an intriguing character, and I was so pleased to see Gaiman restrain himself from turning Shadow into the violent killer one almost expects him to become. Shadow’s restraint, even when a lesser (and smaller) person would have turned violent, underscores Gaiman’s refusal to turn a cheap trick for effect and to satisfy expectation. Good for him, and good for us. I’m ready for more Gaiman, and I’m sure you would be too.
