American Gods

Having gone through more of Gaiman's work lately, I've become disillusioned with his writing. He's by no means a bad writer, but certainly not the masterful sort that was impressed on me by American Gods. He's got some tricks that are eye-catching and fanciful the first time around, but then you notice that he relies too much on those same tricks for other acts. I'd like to reread this book again sometime and see if it's still deserving of five stars, as my tastes and standards have changed considerably since 2019. Until then, I'll leave my old gushing review up.

It is only on rare occasions that an author manages to defy all expectations and set a high bar for the fantasy genre. After reading amazing stories such as Jonathan Strange & show more Mr Norrel and Titus Groan, I wondered if I would ever find another fantasy to compare to my favorites.

And now, I certainly have.

American Gods is an exceptional book because, like a master magician, Gaiman continually manages to surprise you by transforming simplicity into the fantastical. The boon of any good novel is a healthy dosage of unpredictability, and time and again, I was in awe whenever a new shock came my way, and found myself grinning like mad as my mind tried to wrap around what had just occurred. Every surprise feels like it belongs within the book; they all work in tandem to continually build a fantastical reality out of the seemingly commonplace setting of America.

Fantasy in American Gods is so unlike other fantasies I've read because it is not directly fairy tale inspired like Clarke's masterpiece, nor is it the magic of a painter-like writing style, as Peake's respective work is. And it is certainly not reliant on any sort of mitigating system. Gaiman's work, instead, contains an urban setting mixing with Greek mythology-based magic, and it is what really sets this book above the rest. And not only that, but it's a magic that's inseparable from the world. Gaiman brings out the magic in America, from folk tales to cheap one night hotel rooms to looking up at the starry sky. It's a kind of magic that is startling and intense, but also stunning and gripping. Gaiman does not hold back in his sudden dives into the realm of the fantastical, and American Gods is like a deep well of creativity that appears to never end. I was so often in awe of transpiring events as the novel went on that I was practically reeling, overcome in many ways. It's sometimes very hard to believe that this entire book came from one single mind.

And as the events subvert your expectations, so do the characters. "Shadow Moon" is the name of the main character, a simple American man who's merely a hulking dude that loves his wife. Gaiman's choice of names always seems grand and imaginative, and his characters never act in a way that causes their names to be an ill fit. Hearing the name "Shadow" immediately draws you in; you are curious as to the how and why of the naming, which I find to be a pretty clever method of building character' profiles before they even become developed. With great names come great expectations, and it would be easy to mess up a character with a cool-sounding name, but rest assured, these names are not wasted. Shadow, in a way, is like the middleman between his reality and ours--someone that we can definitely relate to or feel sorry for, but he is by no means a self-insert. He lives up to his name quite well. The rest of the cast--with equally interesting names--intrigue and bewilder, shock and surprise. They all mix well with what fantasy should be: the unknowable, the mysterious, the sublime.

But, beyond the fantasy, they are all still very human. Out of every fantasy story I've read, it's Gaiman's American Gods that has been able to incorporate the many facets of human nature in way that was completely relatable and at once familiar. That's something we're all searching for when we read, I believe: that human element that will tie us to the book's world--if only for a little while--and perhaps help us realize something wonderful or dreadful about ourselves and our reality as we reflect upon the characters we encounter. Oftentimes, an author fails to achieve this thing, but Neil Gaiman nails it with aplomb. It helps, too, that Gaiman's writing style is quite unique and not overly wordy. He's able to make a lot of interesting points about life, be curt but apt with his descriptions, and run wild when the time is right.

This is not an easy book to digest in the sense that the sheer strangeness of the story, at times, can be hard to wrap your head around. Events tend to be utterly fantastic, unpredictable; leaving you wanting more surprises, and certainly some answers. Though, the best books never spell everything out for you, which leaves a lot hanging in the air, stirring your imagination in wondrous ways. I get the sense that this is Gaiman's magnum opus, and thusly he infuses the story with many themes and questions and observations about the world, about human interaction, and the dichotomy of old and new. I imagine Gaiman as a composer, and this is his fantasia--a successful experiment where Gaiman never lost control of the story's events or the setting's massiveness, and knew exactly when and where to develop his themes and ask his questions in time. Most authors struggle all their lives with consistency and assurance with how they're to go about presenting their themes, but Gaiman knows absolutely how he wants to go about showing and telling. When an author enters that "zone"--that place of assurance, of fervor and of strength, then their best work usually blooms forth from that period in their lives. Some reach it early in life, some late. And Neil Gaiman, for sure, had reached that zone when he wrote American Gods.

One of my favorite lines in the book goes something like, "Even though we're in the United States, each state feels like they are all practically different countries." I hadn't thought of things in that way til then, and that's a very accurate statement. Though things are virtually similar throughout the U.S., there is so much nuance and difference between all the states, you might as well be driving to another country if you've lived up north all your life and decide to go to someplace south or out west. Gaiman utilizes American culture and the different cities or towns masterfully in this story, capturing an America that feels almost too American at times, but remains verisimilar to real life. There's the southern hospitality, the various motels and cafes, the Americana--it's all there. All the better if you've been to some of the places that Gaiman uses in the novel. In an interview (spoilers, fyi), Gaiman says that for some readers of another novel of his called Neverwhere, seeing some of the cities and settings they knew personally "brought some of the magic" of those places back to them, and American Gods most likely had similar results. It's a powerful thing, to be able to reawaken an interest in your state or country with just a bit of fiction.

And within Gaiman's America, shadows abound. Nothing is ever what it seems. The truth really is stranger than fiction, the lines of which become blended together and lost in each other's realms. Gaiman's blend of fantasy is brewed dark, and there is a lot of it to take in and savor. Unlike most epic journies in the fantasy genre, Gaiman knows how to keep American Gods condensed and interesting enough so that keeping things going on forever and a day with ten sequels didn't happen--he did well enough with 700 pages. And not only that, but he stuck with the kind of fantasy that authors like Clarke and Peake did, and it really paid off. To authors such as these, fantasy is more than a mere system of man-made rules--it is a world of its own; phenomena that enriches with boundless potential.

Now, if there was one thing I didn't enjoy about the book, it was how long some scenes or chapters could drag on. These were separate story threads from Shadow's main storyline, and seemed a bit meandering, although they mattered to the book as a whole. While interesting at times, they did feel rather long, but the rest of the novel more than made up for those lulls, so I still find American Gods to be deserving of 5 stars in lieu of this and other minor flaws.

No amount of words or praise will do justice my passion for this novel. Gaiman really took in the world--this American world--and infused it with a powerful, unorthodox creativity that's seldom encountered, like a good movie that's impossible to replicate. Neil Gaiman's American Gods is undoubtedly a fantasy book for our modern age, one that proves that while so many great ideas have been done in the past, there is still much room for innovation. And, like a coin-trick magician that makes you wonder where that quarter really went, you're going to want to stick with American Gods until the end--until you're satisfied that it's revealed all of its secrets. show less

What happens to the old pagan gods that people bring with them to a new land, when worship erodes? How do they cope with the material world of America? Gaiman's concept is delicious, and he carries it out with a wicked wit - what better undertaker than an Egyptian god, after all? The story gallops along as our hero discovers that all is not fair in love or war, even, or especially, for the godhead.

The consensus n my book discussion group was that if the person read the 10th Edition with the stuff Gaiman added back in, it was too long. I didn't know any differently, so I must say I liked it as I read it (the updated version).

The various versions of the old gods, dealing as they must with current culture and economics, is both humorous show more and somehow sad. But there are bigger thoughts in this book: immigration, how people come here and eventually abandon the ancient, transactional gods; monotheistic religions that Gaiman doesn't bring in, those that superceded the same ancient gods well before the related populations came to the U.S. Then the comparisons - all our technological gods: money, TV, cars, electronic communication, bigness, power, worshipped more and more in spite of, or with the connivance of, current leaders. What does it mean to keep your word, have a sense of personal honor? What would you sacrifice for what you want? And what do life and death mean, however many times you go through them?

The novel is eminently readable, even in the long version, which seemed to fly by. I could almost cast the movie in my head as it went - Brian Cox, perhaps, as Mr. Wednesday? Any other suggestions? show less

This could have been so bad. It could have been full of easy to grasp metaphors and clichés. It could have been sensationalist drivel without any depth.

But it wasn't. It was a ridiculously amazing experience.

No review can adequately carry all this book has to give, but Gaiman's intercultural pantheon is something to behold. Pulling from a wide variety of traditions (Egyptian, Nordic, African, Greek, Germanic, Haitian, and more...) somehow the "fantasy" aspects become all too believable. No need to suspend disbelief, because Gaiman crafts a world where fact versus fiction really isn't all that important. Where Lucy Ricardo can be a...prophet? A taxi driver a jinn. And an ex-con (sort of) can be one of the most likeable (and quixotic) show more protagonists to surface in literature of the last fifty years.

Gaiman's amazing and encyclopedic cultural knowledge flows through the book with references as disparate as Saint-Saëns and The Beatles to Hieronymous Bosch. Everything is at once theatrical and ordinary, and this is the true feat. Nothing is not darkness in this land, nothing is something into which Shadow (the protagonist) can walk "with a strange fierce joy." (484).

It is a shame that Joseph Campbell died well before this book was written because Gaiman has both challenged and bolstered the idea of the monomyth. He has captured the iterative nature of myth, illuminating how it operates in our modern lives, dancing in between religion and science. And despite the depth of the book, it is full of humor and semi-sardonic tropes: "I think," said Mr. Nancy, "that wherever two men are gathered together to sell a third man a twenty-dollar violin for ten thousand dollars, he will be there in spirit." (551)

This could be a good storybook. But it can also be much more than that. Take the time to dig in---look up the characters in world mythology. Relish the double takes. Go back, read again. You won't lose the flow because there isn't any. And that, for once, is a good thing. show less

Just finished reading American Gods.
Neil Gaiman, is – amongst other things – a completely fearless writer. I’m sure that other people out there have written things that are more personal, more in depth, and more controversial than what I just read, but I’ve never before felt like I’ve had so much revealed to me. Gaiman wrote something entirely magical with such frank simplicity, two things that I used to think were as incompatible as ancient Gods such as Odin and Loki, and new Gods such as Technology and Media. What a FANTASTIC read. I'm just blown away. It was so complicated but presented so coherently - I never lost interest and I never felt lost. When twists happened and when secrets were revealed, I felt as though I show more *almost* knew what was going to happen yet was completely surprised and swept away. Oh the wonder of a really great book. show less

It's taken me a long time to read this. For a while, I couldn't hold onto a copy--I'd buy it, give it away, buy another copy, misplace it. Finally, as an audio book, it's taken a good long while to finish. Sections wouldn't hold my interest, others were difficult to listen to. But, having just finished it, I have to say that it's simply epic. An American epic. Not at all what I was expecting (especially having read Anansi Boys first), and nowhere near as much fun as other Gaiman books I've read, but certainly a much more serious and important book.

"None of this can actually be happening. If it makes you more comfortable, you could simply think of it as metaphor. Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you — even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition.
Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world."

Five stars to me is a pretty much perfect book. I loved the crap out of this book: the perfectly choreographed, twisty show more plot, the weaving together of many world mythologies, the characters who came to life on the page, the clever dialogue, the clear, precise prose, and the humor. Just all of it. show less

I originally heard about Gaiman through his loyal use of fountain pens. He's one of the few writers out there who still write their original drafts in pen and ink, and wrote the entirety of American Gods with a fountain pen. As a fountain pen hobbyist myself, reading Gaiman was a must!

American Gods is a tale that is beautifully told and ripe with mythology. The story takes us to an intricate world where gods, both old and new, roam the earth amongst humans. They love. They hate. They envy. They kill. They heal. They lust for power (and other things). And they can die. The book explores some very thought provoking concepts regarding divinity, and how it possibly may not be as awesome as it may seem. It also critiques much of our modern show more culture with the ideas and objects that humans now devote much of themselves to (ie: technology). Overall, it's a very enjoyable read. I will probably reread this later, and pick up some other Gaiman novels as well. show less