The Graveyard Book

I really enjoyed this. Being a YA novel it's more Coraline than Sandman or American Gods, but Gaiman's YA novels are anything but infantile and there's a lot to like here.

A baby is the only survivor when his entire family is murdered by a mysterious assassin. The toddler somehow winds up in a graveyard, where he's adopted by the locals (ghosts, a vampire, various spirits), named "Nobody" (Bod for short) and raised by them as one of their own. At first, it's all rather sweet and harmless. But as he grows older, both his past and his future - he's a human boy, after all - start pulling him in a different direction from his family. They're dead, after all, and he has to learn what it means to live.

The obvious influence is Kipling's Jungle show more Book - it's so obvious that Gaiman even admits it - and since we know that story and others like it, the plot gets a bit predictable; but even then, Gaiman keeps my interest. Like Coraline it's a darker story than most writers would want to put a child in, which I like, but above all it's the world Gaiman creates around his characters. There's roots here, subtly reaching both into other stories and into the past, grounding the story in - or rather, just beside - the real world that we all live in and making the characters real with it. Gaiman borrows from others, but he borrows because he knows how the originals work and how he can make it work for him. Much like the central character, Nobody, learns to do; a name both fitting (no history, no human connections, no knowledge of how the world works) and increasingly ill-fitting as he learns and grows and pieces together his world.

"Someone killed my mother and my father and my sister."
"Yes. Someone did."
"A man?"
"A man."
"Which means," said Bod, "you’re asking the wrong question."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
“Well,” said Bod. "If I go outside in the world, the question isn’t ‘who will keep me safe from him?’"
"No?"
"No. It’s ‘who will keep him safe from me?’"

And the answer, of course, is Nobody. show less

I could of swore I wrote a review for The Graveyard Book on here previously. oh well.

I recently reread (or rather listened to) The Graveyard Book for work as I am hosting an on-line book discussion about it. And it was just as wonderful the second time through. The Graveyard Book is one of my all time favorite novels. It is one of these rarities that exist in literature: It's a perfect book and one the imparts wisdom upon each reading. The critics obviously agree: The Graveyard Book won a top literary honor the Newbery Medal for the most distinguished contribution to children’s literature. And yes, Gaiman is an incredibly popular author but the book absolutely deserved the medal.

“There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a show more knife.”

The night a killer murders his family, a child escapes off into a graveyard, where he's adopted by a loving, even-keeled ghost couple, who names him Bod Owens (sort for Nobody). The premise for The Graveyard Book is macabre, but author Neil Gaiman has a strange ability to make otherworldly characters charming and somewhat old-fashioned — loveable, even — and the story is anything but grave.

For having such a sinister beginning and heavy life-and-death themes (it's the Jungle Book set in a graveyard), this book is a real joy to read. The graveyard magic is fantastic and grows in fun ways throughout the story, and the ghosts and creatures that inhabit this world make for a delightful cast of characters. And Bod is such a charming protagonist. He goes on many adventures, makes friends (not all of them dead), and begins to learn about his past and consider his future. Along the way, he encounters hideous ghouls, a witch, middle school bullies and an otherworldly fraternal order that holds the secret to his family’s murder. When he is 12 things change, and the novel’s momentum and tension pick up as he learns why he’s been in the graveyard all this time and what he needs to do to leave. You can't always stay in the Jungle with your animal pals and you can't spend the rest of your days in a Graveyard if you're living either.

While essentially a children's book, this is truly a novel for all ages. This is an instant classic and a timeless novel that is along the likes of Dickens, Lewis, Tolkien, and Kipling in its appeal. It's about the joys and terror of growing up, it's about being orphaned, and it's about the empathy of a community of graveyard inhabitants.

It truly does take a graveyard to raise a child.

“You're alive, Bod. That means you have infinite potential. You can do anything, make anything, dream anything. If you can change the world, the world will change. Potential. Once you're dead, it's gone. Over. You've made what you've made, dreamed your dream, written your name. You may be buried here, you may even walk. But that potential is finished.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book show less

The man Jack thought he had killed the entire family, but was not aware that a young toddler had escaped into the night, wandering the local cemetery where he is raised by the ghosts who live there. The rest of the novel picks up significant stories in the life of this toddler, named Nobody Owens, Bod for short, by his ghost guardians. Loosely inspired by the Jungle Book, Neil Gaiman weaves together a story that asks what it really means to live your life and what it really means to raise a child to the point of independence. All parts enthralling, touching, sad, and inspiring, "The Graveyard Book" is a magical piece of gothic fantasy that gets to the truth of growing up, learning to live your own life, confront your own demons, and show more "leave no path untaken." As a parent, this book hits close to home and puts words to the wonderful tragedy that is watching your children grow up. show less

A mysterious killer known as "Jack" murders an entire family, but misses the baby, who crawls away and toddles into a nearby graveyard. There, he is adopted by the ghosts and other creatures who roam the graveyard and dubbed "Bod" for "Nobody". With his caretaker, Mr. Silas, and adoptive ghost parents, Mr. and Mrs. Owens, Nob grows up roving the graveyard, having adventures that include meeting the sinister Sleer who protects the old barrow in the center of the graveyard, is kidnapped by ghouls, and hunted by the killer who murdered his family.

The Graveyard Book defies any easy category. It is at times sweet, sinister, terrifying, creepy, eerie, and altogether lovely. There is no one aspect of the story that propels it to greatness, but show more the way each aspect works together to make the whole.

To start, the characters are drawn simply, save for Nob, and yet memorable. Jack, the villain who begins the novel by murdering an entire family, is shrouded in mystery. He is given very little description - deliberately - or even dialogue. The reader knows almost nothing about him, though hints are given that he is a professional undertaking a mission. Likewise, Silas actually plays a very small role in the book when considering his lines and appearances, but manages to be drawn powerfully enough to become a presence in the novel. All of the tenants of the graveyard are given roles to play and become as familiar and friendly to the readers as they are to Nob.

Gaiman never gives his reader anything, but makes them work for it. Though the word "vampire" is never explicitly used in the book, Silas is clearly one: the references to his having no reflection, the "fluttering" as he disappears into the night, and his assertions that he is neither alive nor dead. Similarly, the character Jack, and the later Jacks in the story, are told in the barest strokes, generally one defining feature giving you the silhouette of the entire character. Gaiman hints at their alien-ness; Jack can "smell" the girl and her fear, or follows Nob's scent trail. The reader knows that they are not quite human, but can never pinpoint what they are, exactly.

This is a defining trait of Gaiman's writing. He populates his books with hints and brief glimpses at the wonder of the world he is building. Who are the Honour Guard? What is Kandar? What is the Macabray? With a teasing glimpse behind the curtain, Gaiman draws the reader in and invites them to make themselves at home in this world. The Sleer is possibly the greatest example of this. Described almost entirely in the sound its voice makes when it speaks, Gaiman still manages to convey a feeling of an ancient menace, dry skin brushing against the walls of the barrow, and too many heads for one body. At the very end, Gaiman does show the reader the entire stage, and if there were any complaint to be had in this book, it is that. Jack Frost fails to be as sinister when he begins talking to Nob; his menace was in his intrigue. The Sleer, likewise, becomes somehow less threatening when shown completely. Still, there is plenty fun to be had in imagining what horrors Gaiman has created that are sneaking from under the curtain, and the complaint cannot stand against the richness of the writing.

Gaiman's writing is as witty and quirky as ever. There is never a reference to a ghost occupying the graveyard without an accompanying note on their dates of death and epitaph, usually a humorous reference to the person's character while they were alive. Nob is very much a child, but a clever one, and though he makes some regrettable decisions, he never becomes whiny or annoys the reader. He is curious, brave, smart, and an enjoyable character to follow. Silas, too, makes an appearance just long enough to tantalize the reader before fading into the background once more to let Nob steal the show. The "Jack of All Trades" or "Jack of Knaves" organization is quietly inventive; the reader cannot help but inwardly read them in his or her head: "Jack Frost, Jack Dandy, Jack Nimble...".

The plotting is unusual. The chapters feel episodic, offering brief vignettes of Nob's life as he grows up, and the reader does not suspect, until the very end, that they will all play a part in the final showdown. The book comes full circle: Nob's first adventure is in meeting Scarlett, who returns at the end of the book and sets off the chain of events leading to Jack and Nob finally meeting; the tomb through which Nob was taken by the ghouls plays a large factor in the end confrontation; and the Sleer is pivotal in the end to defeating Jack Frost.

The ending is bittersweet. The characters that Nob love, and that the reader has likewise grown to love, know that Nob must leave. Others, like Miss Lupescu, are even dispatched. Silas is Nob's guardian no more. Here is a curiosity: the sweetness is not in Nob eagerly thinking about the adventures he will have or the places he will go, but in his realization that he will, inevitably, once again meet them when he finally rides with the Lady on the Grey. Only an author as talented as Gaiman could make death itself a tender, sweet moment.

Many of the reviews seemed to have given up on trying to summarize The Graveyard Book and simply throw an olio of adjectives at it: witty, creepy, tender, exciting, funny, scary... All of them apply. Comedy horror is extremely difficult to do well; in this, Gaiman has managed to do comedy-horror-coming of age - mystery and more. The world is fantastical, but like Nob, lives on the border. Rather than creating an entirely new world, Gaiman appears to be showing us the one that niggles just at the edge of our consciousness. After reading this book, one cannot help but wonder what goes on in the graveyard at night. show less

Gaiman credits Kipling's THE JUNGLE BOOK as a major influence on his story about an orphaned boy adopted into a society not his own -- in this case, the world of the dead. A wise book, wanting to teach children (and the rest of us) how to navigate the growing up years, how to acknowledge and face the danger of living, how to celebrate the brief adventure that is a life.

On suicide: Bod's guardian admits, 'And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence.' Bod asks, 'Does it work? Are they happier dead?' The reply, 'Sometimes. Mostly, no. It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and show more live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.' And in Bod's graveyard, this is proved literally true. (104)

On the human desire for safety and security: there is a monstrous, three-headed snake under the graveyard, waiting to find it's 'MASTER,' so it may serve him forever and ever ... 'IF YOU WERE OUR MASTER,' the creature explains, 'WE COULD HOLD YOU IN OUR COILS FOREVER. IF YOU WERE OUR MASTER, WE WOULD KEEP YOU SAFE AND PROTECT YOU UNTIL THE END OF TIME AND NEVER LET YOU ENDURE THE DANGERS OF THE WORLD.' (250)

On the intricate, joyful dance between life and death, the Danse Macabre: Bod experiences it, but afterward finds no one will discuss it with him. 'Why won't anyone talk about it?' he asks. His guardian replies, 'Because there are mysteries. Because there are things that people are forbidden to speak about. Because there are things they do not remember.' (164)

And the book ends beautifully, rightly, on a bittersweet note that encompasses the nature of friendship, enlightenment, forgetfulness, and how we spend our lives not speaking about the mysteries which are actually the core of being a mature human being.

Part of the great joy of reading Gaiman is to embrace his cast of characters and make them one's own friends. Perhaps my favorites are Liza the girl-witch, a creature on the border of the border, and Miss Lupescu who is ... well ... in her own words: ''I,' she said sternly, 'am Miss Lupescu.'' (71) show less

4 years after publication, writing a glowing review of the graveyard book is already futile. Thousands of awards and plaudits have been bestowed, so what are you reading this for? It's an instant classic, a children's book that makes you sad not to be a child being swept along and inspired by it. There is no redundancy to its narrative, every word thrilling, amusing or educating with the precision of an assassin's knife. Like Neverwhere before it, it takes it's lead from a multitude of myth and tradition and weaves its own creations into it seamlessly. It must surely take some inspiration from Alan Garner's namesake series The Stone Book Quartet, for its sense of place, of history and of continuity and morality are just as focused. It show more pulls no punches in its conclusion, but still leaves the reader as inspired for the future as its protagonist.

This is a fantastic novel. show less

A re-read for me, the first time through for Charlie. Between readings of Gaiman, I tend to forget how he rarely comes right out and tells you anything at all, but instead hints at things and has things peak round corners at you, shows you a quarter of a smile, or half a talon. I love him for that. And I loved reading this one to Charlie and watching out of the corner of my eye as he soaked all that in, along with the fantastic story, the idea that there are so many ways to tell a thing, that some of the best of them are ways that involve not actually telling the thing at all.