There are stories that are true, in which each individual’s tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it too deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope.
From American Gods.
There is just something about Gaiman’s stories that lingers with you. Not all of them leave as deep a stamp as American Gods does, but many of them do, and some of them touches upon the heart of hearts when it comes to truths about life, death, belief and love. In American Gods Gaiman serves up profound reflections about mankind and man’s relation to society, the world as a whole, the universe. Love, sex, dreams, violence, friendship, hate, fear.
In American Gods Gaiman tells the story of ex-convict Shadow, who is released from prison only to discover that the woman he loved and lost in a car accident had betrayed him, in the last moments of her life. Lost and rootless, Shadow accepts the offer to work as a handy-man, or body guard of sorts, for a man named Wednesday, whom he meets on an airplane. (Could this be a reference to Adams and his The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, where a certain Norse God appearing in this scene plays an important role? One can only speculate, probably a long shot.) Caught in the middle of a war between the Gods of Old and the newer deities, gods of Media, Highways and Computors, Shadow travels through America as Mr. Wednesday’s hired help, across a country that is a place of exitement and joy, of wonder and beauty, of decadence and filth. The America depicted in American Gods is as transient as it is eternal.
The novel is littered with lovable, fearful, terrible, beautiful, ugly and wonderful women. Beautiful portraits of the female characters, deities or not. Mothers, sisters, daughters, lovers. Gaiman deserves praise for his female portraits, they are as multi faceted as they are respectful. Samantha Black Crow, the energetic, vivacious, brave and creative young woman who studies women’s history and casts in bronze and hitch-hikes fearlessly. The goddess Eostre, or Easter, who is the goddess of spring and dawn, of life and regeneration. Or Bast, the catlike egyptian godess who weighs the acts and hearts of men and women, against a feather, with Ibis and Anubis, when they are condemned to their after lifes. And, perhaps the most moving portrait of all, the portrayal of Shadow’s wife Laura, who is one of the greatest heroes of the story despite the fact that she has comitted an unforgivable sin in cheating on her husband.
There is so much to be said about this novel. It’s scope is enormous. We touch upon mythology from all ages and from the different corners of the world. Interspersed with the chapters moving the story of Shadow forward are short scenes showing one or other fate of a deity. Some of these are haunting, others thrilling, all of them moving. American Gods is more than a novel. It’s a journey of the mind. It’s a feeling, at the root of your heart. It’s a truly magical reading experience.