Monday, March 3, 2014

The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman, 181 pages

For the most part, there are two big ways of portraying magic in books. There are, I'm sure, thousands, but most fall into one of these two categories (or use some of both). There's "Oh my god! Magic!" and there's "Oh look. Magic." In other words, there are books where magic is treated as shocking, unexpected, and curiosity-piquing, and there are books where it is treated as matter-of-fact, uninspiring, simply there. This is not a value statement. One story could choose the first style because magic in their universe is supposed to be wondrous and enchanting and a respite from the dullness of everyday life. A different story could choose the second style to show that magic is such an ingrained part of the universe that no one finds it surprising anymore. Or because a character is so numbed by the world around him that even the magical seems plain. Or, in the case of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, because it simply fits the tone best - the recounting of a long-distant (half-remembered?) story by an older man.

I wouldn't want all of my stories to be told in this way, but in this instance, it's nice to have a story with such a different feel. Crazy things happen; wondrous, world-opening things and horrific, frightening things. But it's all recounted in a very straightforward way. The entire book is very entrenched in its tone. If you don't care for its brand of semi-wondrous-semi-scary magic, or the direct, almost plain way in which it's presented, you won't find much to like here. If the very thought of deus ex machina bothers you, you probably won't care for it either. And it's short: essentially, this is just a single extended "episode," whereas you might get several such storylines in a typical (longer) book. But I think all of those things - things that may turn others off - are actually its greatest strengths. Because it focuses on a single episode, it can revel in its themes and its imagery and its metaphor and its voice. Because the ending isn't clean and perfect, it can further reinforce those themes and that voice. Because it treats magic plainly, it reminds you of the story's overall arc (ie. where it begins, where it ends, and why the journey was important). All of the individual cogs work together to make an interesting whole that's entirely its own, and yet feels like it could be (or has been) "passed down from generation to generation."

So I understand those that don't care for this book. But for me, it is unique in the best of ways.

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