Ocean (Re)view

It's been quite some time since I last read a book by Neil Gaiman, and concluded that while I was deeply impressed with his writing, I was not as swept up in his storytelling. Since then, I've watched Sandman and Good Omens both, and gradually came to feel that indeed, I would try another Gaiman book at some point. I finally wound up doing that with The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

When a man returns to his childhood hometown, he begins to remember fantastical, extraordinary events from his youth: the time a dark supernatural creature gained access to the real world, and the strange neighbors next door helped protect him.

Though first published in 2013, The Ocean at the End of the Lane has enjoyed renewed attention in recent years thanks to a stage adaptation that has enjoyed multiple limited runs in the U.K. It's a sensible choice to adapt into a play; assuming you can figure out how to portray some of the more fantastical elements live before an audience, the story itself is quite tight. The book is almost more novella than novel, one of the quicker reads I've undertaken in some time.

For me, it reinforced everything I felt about reading American Gods. I am deeply impressed by Gaiman's way with words. I tend to like plot-driven books, and so long as the language is sufficiently descriptive, I don't usually care if it's especially "poetic." Gaiman is somehow able to craft multiple sentences on every page that make you sit up and take notice... while still having them feel natural and not overly fussed over. It's heightened without being precious, clever without seeming false.

But also... I didn't get half as caught up in the story as I did in the language. Even as a slim novella, there were times The Ocean at the End of the Lane felt a bit "stretched too far" to me, like a bedtime story that rightfully should have taken one bedtime expanded to a week of them. Certain elements felt strange to me, from the protagonist being nameless, to the flashback structure that didn't seem to be adding much in my eyes. The story wasn't bad, but it just wasn't nearly as engaging as the clever turns of phrase throughout.

I'd give The Ocean at the End of the Lane a B. I'm glad to have read it, but I'm not sure I'll be rushing for another Gaiman book any time soon. It's simply a bit outside my own personal tastes -- something other readers may well love a great deal, but for me best left as an occasional diversion.