'I can believe things that are true and things that aren’t true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they’re true or not.'

Looking back to my very first post on this blog, I anticipated that one thing I'd do lots of is talk about books I adore and indulge my total bibliomania with long rambling discussions. That hasn't materialised yet for several reasons: firstly, I read book reviews every damn day for my work, and considering that they're legitimate academic publications and take months to write, it makes the concept of spending an hour babbling about why I liked a novel seem rather trivial. Secondly, I didn't read a lot during my thesis, and when I finished, I read purely for pleasure without wanting to do anything else. Thirdly, I really didn't know what I'd say. Books like The Secret History conjure up such an aesthetic for me, I have half a mind to do an inspiration post based on it, whereas books like A. S. Byatt's The Children's Book left me wanting to have a long-winded academic discussion (once I'd read lots about the Edwardian era, naturally!) So this is quite experimental, since I don't really know what I want to say here, but I do want to share some thoughts on a book I really enjoyed.

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When flying back from Dublin in what I think was 2006, I had a delay at the airport and went on a hunt for any book which looked interesting. I walked away with a rather pretty copy of Neil Gaiman's Stardust, and managed to read most of it on the flight home, which tells you two things. One, I read fast. Two, I really enjoyed this book. It's a wonderful mixture of early Victoriana sentiment and dark, sharp faerie stories, which combine to make a twisted and irreverent vision of life beyond The Wall. I hestitate to describe it purely as 'dark' though, because it's not: one thing I really like about Gaiman's writing is that he's capable of describing dark things succinctly with a very British sort of black humour, which makes it very light to read. In an interview, he has commented that in the last half-century or so, the idea of a book as a 'page-turner' has become a negative thing, and that he wants to rehabilitate this concept. I completely approve of the sentiment, but I think it shows best with his epic American Gods, which is really rather a brick of a book, but is utterly wonderful and totally different from Stardust.

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I bought American Gods for my first year at university, and ended up reading it in the summer term post-exams when I had nothing to do apart from relax and wait for results. I'm very glad to have read it when there was nothing else pressing going on, because I was quite literally tied to that book day and night. It's stunningly compelling as a narrative, starting out enigmatically and revealing its truth in very small increments, yet it remains extremely satisfying. The concept of the Old Gods in America is one which could have been mishandled and turned into nothing but a cliche, but in my opinion Gaiman's depiction is both fun and really quite fitting to the scale of the piece. If you know your mythology you'll appreciate certain aesthetic choices more, but his depiction of gods fitting into modern American life is one which raises questions even as it is fitting. The gods, by and large, live in poverty, unloved and forgotten, whereas the new gods are abstract ideals of Technology, Media and other such modern obsessions. Given that Gaiman's an English writer living in America, I can't help but wonder if he's making a statement about the misguided nature of certain American values (or at least a satirical point about America as a 'godly' country). The author has made statements about the novel reflecting the 'immigrant experience' of America, and I think it says a lot of interesting things about how far culture can be absorbed, and whether cultures can coexist harmoniously. Yet, at the same time, Mr Ibis says, 'You people talk about the living and the dead as if they were two mutually exclusive categories,' and it's true, death in the novel is less absolute and more permeable than is usually supposed. As such, all definitions in the novel are multi-layered, and to put that within the concept of an 'American' novel composed of global refugee gods is particularly interesting.

[Carousel at the House on the Rock: link.]

Why do I like this book? It's quite simple really. It's an epic on a classical scale, there's a journey, a battle, ghosts and gods and sacrifice. (There's also a sub-plot which is rather reminiscent of Euripides' Alcestis.) But it's also the story of multiple cons, and is a hermeneutic adventure on a thrilling scale which slots into place neatly and exactly. It's both an easy, compulsive read and a novel which stays with you, and when you get a book like that, a page-turner and an enigma, it's definitely a special book. I would thoroughly recommend it, especially to anyone interested in mythology or fantasy.

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A final point: it's been rumbling round the interwebs for some time that American Gods will be turned into a TV show by HBO. Now, I love HBO, they do some of my favourite shows (The Wire, Oz, Game of Thrones...), and Neil Gaiman's writing the script, so it should be good, but there is some discomfort over the matter of the casting. It's not a book which insists upon race particularly, but it's clearly implied that Shadow is mixed-race. Considering how good the part is, it would be a shame not to honour the source material and give a mixed-race actor a chance, since there are so few parts specifically for such backgrounds. At any rate, I have faith in HBO to do the right thing, so I'm thoroughly looking forward to it. If it's anything like Game of Thrones, I'm sure I'll be thoroughly hooked.

I hope I've inspired you to pick up the book, I really do recommend it thoroughly. Just a note: I'm away for the next few days, so I hope I'll be able to do a Friday post, although I can't guarantee it. Hope everyone's having a good week!