If you have heard of The Ocean at the End of the Lane at all, you have probably reached the conclusion that every reviewer has reverted to Romanticism by way of describing the book's emotional pull rather than what the book is actually about. Nostalgia, myth, melancholy, memory, terror, childhood: all vague terms that don't really tell you what this book is, only that everyone has instantly declared it art.
Usually I want to know what a book is about before I read it.
I was also concerned that Neil Gaiman had finally crossed out of genre fiction into popular fiction; in other words, the book would feel magical without actually having magic.
It turns out I needn't have worried.
But having read the book, now I understand what the reviewers were up against. Ocean defies summary.
On the one hand, it's too short to give much plot summary without spoiling the entire book. On the other, the plot can't be boiled down to a single sentence.
The narrative is reminiscent of both Bridge to Terabithia by to Katherine Paterson and Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. But what it's really like is a Studio Ghibli film. The plot is no more complex than a longish Grimm's fairy tale. Truly, for most of the book it is the tone that elevates the story, bringing the magic of both the extraordinary and the mundane to life.
Until you realize what the book's about.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the story of a boy as remembered by a man, told by an author (Gaiman) to his wife in an attempt to explain where his art comes from and what drives him to create.
The setting and a few characters are autobiographical. As is the emotional story. Myths are not labelled thus because they are untrue, but rather they are attempts at describing truths that exist beyond mere facts. And by that definition, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is far from fiction.
Usually I want to know what a book is about before I read it.
I was also concerned that Neil Gaiman had finally crossed out of genre fiction into popular fiction; in other words, the book would feel magical without actually having magic.
It turns out I needn't have worried.
But having read the book, now I understand what the reviewers were up against. Ocean defies summary.
On the one hand, it's too short to give much plot summary without spoiling the entire book. On the other, the plot can't be boiled down to a single sentence.
The narrative is reminiscent of both Bridge to Terabithia by to Katherine Paterson and Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. But what it's really like is a Studio Ghibli film. The plot is no more complex than a longish Grimm's fairy tale. Truly, for most of the book it is the tone that elevates the story, bringing the magic of both the extraordinary and the mundane to life.
Until you realize what the book's about.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the story of a boy as remembered by a man, told by an author (Gaiman) to his wife in an attempt to explain where his art comes from and what drives him to create.
The setting and a few characters are autobiographical. As is the emotional story. Myths are not labelled thus because they are untrue, but rather they are attempts at describing truths that exist beyond mere facts. And by that definition, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is far from fiction.
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