I Finished the Book

I must say, the further the story progressed, the more pleased I was. The best part was keeping in line with how little Shadow truly understood about his own situation, as well as the consistent reminders of how little knowledge he possessed of gods, mythology, and various religions. Whenever he misunderstood someone’s name, it was not annoying or cop-out, it was a perfect way to put it in the common reader’s perspective of the mythoi that Gaiman was stringing together.

Even if he put the correct spelling of the name of the god or imp in question, I probably would have read it incorrectly – pronounced it poorly in my American, not-so-educated tongue. Letting Shadow interpret for the reader keeps in line with not overwhelming someone who may only be vaguely in touch with varying deities – and I appreciated his clumsy progress through the story. I felt like a lumbering, confused and sometimes sad guy reading this, the pace was well done.

As I said before, I wasn’t shocked or saddened, or even slightly vengeful when the somewhat-big-reveal of Laura’s death came about. It just mildly irritated me, and I suppose it was more the same emotion that Shadow seemed to have when she showed up as a walking-corpse later on. Not really surprised, but not very impressed either. That’s how I felt about most of the book, it really was a quick-read – a lot less thick (physically, mentally) than a Dark Tower installation (which I’m still ragged over and processing somehow) but, it was not fast. Even in parts that seemed to emulate urgency, did not feel very urgent. I suppose it comes back to the eyes we watched most of the plot unfold through, eyes still-blinking at the real world.

There are some points in fantastic plots where I’m pulled out of the story, wondering how the protagonist can accept all that happens around them, despite the absurdity; having just left prison after 3 years, Shadow is not only bombarded with the shell-shock of his wife’s death, but in addition being propositioned by a strange man with a glass eye, having a bar fight with a leprechaun and – as if the dying weren’t enough – the news of Laura’s affair. If all of that happened to me within the first 24 hours of being set free, I’d probably be pretty misaligned and adjusted all at the same time; nothing else would seem too shocking. Guessing that’s why I shrugged off Shadow’s readiness (not willingness, he never seemed to try to accept things) for what was happening to him.

I really loved the small portions of story-telling within the plot; “Coming to America” gave a great background for creatures that we do not associate with our own land. I do not think of American Gods or Myths, outside of Native American imagery, so to journey with a few, and see how they could immigrate along with the people who worshipped them helped to put into perspective the idea of the book, which, the basic plot, was a good one.

The not-war, and how it all became just another ‘grift’ from Wednesday, just didn’t feel like a completion to the tale, and the last bits of loose-end-tying where suddenly it was a murder mystery back at the clunker on the ice, were a little tacked-on and rushed (still lumbering), but the final interaction with Czernoborg was alright, if not a little cheesy.

Finally, there is one little bit I did appreciate – because, whether he meant it or not, I think Gaiman touches on an idea of religion that is important. When in Iceland, Shadow runs into Odin, again; in another embodiment, whether a truer form, or not, but he is nearly opposite of the previous. He says, in effect, “He was me, but I am not him,” regarding Wednesday’s conniving and scheming. To me this is the essence of the problem with religion, it is up for interpretation and while the God may have at a time represented one idea, in the hands of the mortal man, after years of word-of-mouth storytelling, trade, conquest, plague and drought – it can mean to one man, something so different.

“We draw lines around these moments of pain, and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. They are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearllike, from our souls without real pain.” Gaiman, American Gods

This is by far the only part of the book that really reckoned with me; I stopped, re-read the lines, and grabbed another post-it note to mark the place in the book where I finally felt something resonate from the text. The image I see: watery, slippery colors – conflicting and never mixing – a pulsating nucleus that glows a little less or more with each drop, but remains – basically, the same, unchanged.

I don’t need to interpret it; I think it’s an interpretation of its own, a commentary of the story it is within. This is what religion does for us, it gives us an alternate purpose than existing, and this purpose we draw up like a blanket to keep the pain of living out, so that inside – where things matter – where beliefs seed, blossom – it can stay safe and our souls are relatively unchanged, believing, knowing there is something else going on “behind the scenes.”

Long trip back from trashy novels

So, I was indulgent for a while and only reading trashy books to supplement our lack of cable TV. Sad, yes, but at least there is more effort going into reading than watching TV.

I am extremely thankful we don't have cable.

Thanks for calling me out, jil. I needed it.

I have this weird obsession with books and movies before they start have purpose or plot. I realized over the weekend (during the 5 hour drive to the Cape) that I should really invest in biographies. That being said, I was also disappointed that his wife died. Had I read your post and not gotten to that point in the books yet, I would've been a little peeved.

I am however really enjoying the character development so far. I feel myself reading in different voices for each character...which is pretty geeky of me, but you know you love it.

Since I'm reading this on my Kindle I do not have any page number for you which makes this very difficult to avoid spoilers.

I'm also not very far; I just hit "coming to america 1721"

Here is some of my favorite imagery:

"the rain pattered continually against the side of the plane: he imagined small children tossing down dried peas by the handful from the skies."

More intelligent posts to come (hopefully)

Self-imposed Barriers

I bought a new book while on vacation.  There was a used book store.  There was a collection of D.H.Lawrence stories.

Another book to surmount before I can buy me a nooook,

*sigh*

Rachael, stop house-wife-ing and start typing.

So which one is he?

Or is he even a "god"?

That's really all I've got so far - I forget what page I'm on, but I'm just at the part where they're having that meeting in the darkness and the Goddess with the heads around her waist is telling Wednesday no.

I will say, I was kind of hoping that Shadow's wife would not have been in the accident after having been cheating on him.  It was obvious that was going to be the case, but it was really a disappointment.

This is a good choice to follow-up Gunslinger with, because phrases like "We are well met" and the same sort of wandering, frail perception of reality is quite cohesive.  What I can't stand are all these name-brand cameos - why does he have to pick up a Nokia phone, why can't he just pick up a phone?

That stuff really pulls me out of it - you can tie it to reality saying something like "coke" or you can tie it to an exact time by saying "IBM."

See, that - dated.

AmIRight?!

NPR's 3-Minute Fiction

Three-Minute Fiction: Round 7

I've been checking out these topics, and have actually used all but one as prompts for little exercises to start myself writing, however long after the contests were over.  This one seems to be a topic I can summit, so I'll certainly try to get an entry in to the contest.

I'm trying to work on giving more effort to things that have always loved, and learned to love; reading has been going well - even if this blog hasn't (har-har), cooking and dancing are great, and writing is closing in on those idle minutes at work where I can get a few scribbles in.

If anything, the authors' challenges are great exercises; I love a topic that makes me write differently than I would if I plopped in front of the computer.

Prompt Thoughts

I had a silly thought in my head, the idea "if I were an English teacher, and assigned Vonnegut, what would be my journal entry prompt?"

Well, that idea is:  Who is in your karass?  Why?  Are there any granfalloons you are part of? What do you think is your wampeter?

That's an entire new novel, though.

Maybe we can go through our notes (after I finish up the ending), pick our three favorite quotes or scenes, then exchange them for some sort of reaction?

Anyway, you pick the next book!  I'll let you know when I'm done.

Devotion

Alright, I have to be completely honest and admit that I was not as devoted to this book as I should have been. Being that this is a re-read for me you would think I'd be decently versed, but no. I am tempted to read Cat's Cradle one more time; I feel like I owe it to Vonnegut.
Do you feel like reading a list of excuses? There are really only three:
1. My mind has been focused on my sister's wedding (which I still don't know what the hell to say)
2. Moving consumed majority of my time.
3. I worked more overtime at work than ever before.

I feel like I need a question to answer. Some sort of prompt.

A part of the book that really stuck out to me was the way some of the women were described in the beginning. "Her smile was glassy, and she was ransacking her mind for something to say, finding nothing in it but used kleenex and costume jewelery"

I have a few other things, but I would need a little more time to think about them and figure some clever way to lay them out.