The Ocean at the End of the Lane

This is a short fantasy novel about a seven-year-old boy, and the women down the road from him who are clearly more than ordinary humans, and a monster who follows the kid home from elsewhere and infiltrates his family... and that description does not remotely do it justice. It's a beautifully written, devour-it-in-one-sitting book that's genuinely scary, but also full of wonder and half-glimpsed mysteries and poignant emotional truths. Not to mention a young protagonist I can identify with incredibly well. Partly that's because he's exactly the kind of bookish child I was (and still am, inside my adult self). But it's also because Gaiman clearly remembers what it's like to be a child -- not childhood as filtered through our adult show more perspectives, or as it's presented to us in children's books, but the full, complex reality of it -- and he makes me remember what it was like, too, and wonder how I ever forgot.

Gaiman's written some amazing stuff, and while I think the Sandman comic series is still his most impressive achievement, this is my new favorite among his novels. show less

When I was a little girl, I loved my world. I loved the fresh gingerbread the Mrs Piper, old lady down the street, would serve to neighborhood children who came to see the train she set up in her house at Christmas-time. I loved the sun-warmed feel of my brother's broad shoulders, when he carried me piggy back, or the combination smell of starch and cigar that haunted my father's shirts when he hugged me. I loved the sound of a saxophone, when my other brother was practicing, or the way my mother, curled up with a book and a bowl of polly seeds* would scooch over so I could nestle in at her side, cracking the black and white shells for the seed inside.

I love my world now, too. And I love the world Neil Gaiman created in The Ocean at show more the End of the Lane.

I'd read that this book started as a short story, and couldn't be stopped. It grew. And it grew into a wonderful tale. Some of it, I feel sure, has deep roots in Gaiman's own childhood. The descriptions ring so true. And while I've heard him talk of his childhood, he's not necessarily mentioned magic, but undoubtedly that was present, for is there not a little magic everywhere, for those who care to look? This is a fairy tale -- not the sanitized, politically correct ones that are circulating today, but a real one, with good and bad, hope and fear, monsters and Hempstocks. Yes, Hemstocks. Lizzie Hempstock, who may, or may not be eleven, her mother, and Old Lady Hempstock, who remembers when the moon was made. And these Hempstocks may be distantly related to Daisy Hempstock in Stardust and Liza Hempstock in The Graveyard Book, or so says neilhimself (though in his blog, not twitter.)

I happily immersed myself in this small volume, delighted to be reading my favorite author again, his first adult book in ages, while also begging myself to slow down, because the next book, adult or children's, may be a long time coming. But I couldn't help myself. I gobbled it up, and sighed with contentment. He did it again. A wonderful, scrumptious book. The man is an artist, a magician, a teller-of-tales, and if all the accounts I've heard are right, he's altruistic and a truly decent man.

I think I love Neil Gaiman even more than Mrs Piper's gingerbread. And that's saying a whole lot.

Read the book.

* sunflower seeds show less

It seems a most auspicious way to start off a year of reading when one can start with such a lovely and lovingly told book. Thanks to my many LT friends who recommended this one, and to Mark, who encouraged me to wait for the audio, narrated by Mr. Gaiman himself. This is a dream-like voyage through early memory with strands of myths and legends and fairy stories woven through. A man returned to his hometown for a memorial service finds an old farmhouse at the end of the lane, unchanged in the 40 years since he had last been there. He spends the day remembering by the duck pond, which his friend Lettie Hempstock had once told him was an ocean. What he remembers are the events that took place when he was 7 years old. A lonely, show more book-loving child, he befriended Lettie after a tragedy in his community that lets in something dark. The two of them crossed boundaries of worlds and realities anchored by the Hempstock farm, and managed in their way by the Hempstock women -- a folkloric crone, mother, and virgin whose old-fashioned good humor and practical magic help restore the young boy's world.

Mr. Gaiman tells a spellbinding tale, which I listened to with a mixture of delight and sick dread. The more I read of Mr. Gaiman, the more I admire his craft (even more so as he is such an eloquent and impassioned supporter of reading and libraries). Threads of ancient and familiar stories run through his books, just enough to bewitch the reader like someone following an old and favorite scent. There are threads that tie in his own work, too. My daughter asked me if it wasn't Liza Hempstock who befriended Bod in The Graveyard Book (it was), and while searching for this on the internet, I discovered that there is a Daisy Hempstock in Stardust, which I have not read. This book was a wonderfully satisfying read, and a reading-life-affirming start to a reading year. show less

My first Neil Gaiman, and oh my, what a book! I was drawn in from the beginning and found excuses to keep listening until the very end. Although there are clear connections to other fantasy coming of age books, this one is outstanding on its own merits.

The story is told from the perspective of a seven year old child encountering a series of fantastical events as he struggles to make sense of events in the real world of adults. Observations on the differences in perception between children and adults, and the challenges of maintaining childlike wonder once childhood has been left behind, flow through the book. Children can be defenseless and vulnerable, but also brave and confident. The fantasy world the child stumbles on is both more show more clear and more ambiguous than his day to day life.

The setting of this book and the comfort the child found in his books undoubtedly added to my enjoyment. Although I doubt I could have recited a song from G&S in its entirety at age seven, I did retreat under rhododendrons to read as a child, and took great joy from meandering through the small woods behind our house, to emerge on another street.

I listened to Neil Gaiman's narration, which was splendid. And this book has quickly made it onto my short list of books I will probably read again. show less

I can't quite believe that I waited until almost the end of the year to read this book, when I bought it as soon as it came out... Irregardless, it was worth the wait, as Gaiman worked his expected magic to bring another modern-day myth into the world. In many ways this book blends themes and tones from his other novels (the unwitting protagonist from American Gods, the distrust/cruelty of adults from Coraline, and a girl from another plane of existence from Neverwhere), but The Ocean is wholey its own story.

The three-fold aspects of the Hempstock women (who clearly draw on the Hecate/triumvirate motif) were my favourite characters, because they so seemlessly blend human and otherworldly personality traits. Hopefully there will be more show more stories featuring the Hempstock women in the future, since they are part of this story yet seem to have a whole universe of their own tales waiting in the wings. show less

My first Gaiman, and I found it totally enjoyable and captivating. It was fantasy, in the vein of Rigg's [b:Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children|9460487|Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, #1)|Ransom Riggs|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1391229642s/9460487.jpg|14345371], beautifully constructed. I gladly surrendered my sense of disbelief and slipped into this world without any doubt.

In the wake of a boarder's suicide, a boy of six meets the girl from the farm at the end of the lane. He finds himself enmeshed in a world of monsters and wisdom and age old beings, and from this encounter comes great danger and an exposure to a view of a life very different from the one he lived a few days show more earlier.

“Childhood memories are sometimes covered and obscured beneath the things that come later, like childhood toys forgotten at the bottom of a crammed adult closet.” Sometimes the memories are more important than we imagine. Sometimes they are more of what shapes our lives than all the adult things we have pressed in atop of them.

This book is fun, it is a quick read, but it is also about fear, self-sacrifice and memory. I'm very pleased that I stepped outside my usual genre. I will be reading more Gaiman. show less

It's been several weeks since I read this, and I have been tongue-tied every time I sit down to write a review. There's something about Neil Gaimain that I love that's hard to put a finger on. I just sink into his books and live there for a while. There's a nostalgic feel to this one, much like the atmosphere of his graphic novel Mr. Punch. That's probably the only similarity between the two, but it was one of the first things that sprang to mind while I was reading. The characters, as always, are fully-imagined and wonderful. After reading so much of his work, I've come to the conclusion that Mr. Gaimain has a soft spot for elderly women. They're so affectionately rendered.

There's always a touch of humor in Gaiman's books, and it works show more no matter where he puts it-he can write something truly horrifying just before a sentence that makes me laugh and want to read it out loud to someone else. And it's not just the humorous writing, but the eloquent turns of phrase that beg to be shared.

No one writes like Neil Gaimain but Neil Gaiman. He is truly unique. And this book was a work of art. Just beautiful. show less