The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

15th June, 2009 3 Comments

This post catches me up on all the backlogged reviews. However, I cannot begin to fathom what I should write and how. Any words are not going to do justice to the poetic beauty of Neil Gaiman’s writing. In fact, all I have are cliches about it being poetic or sounding like angels singing or some such. I think mellifluous is the word I’m looking for.

If you were one of the people across the street who spy on me (actually, I think none of my neighbors are home except for a window sitting cat), you would have seen me reading aloud to myself. The Graveyard Book is technically a children’s book and it is writing in a way that captures the linguistic flow best suited for oral storytelling. In a few pages it jumped to being in the top five of my all-time favorite books it was so well written. Some people just have this magical way of making words float into a unique and captivating story.

Gaiman has a fantastic reputation for a reason. His playing with the template of Kipling’s The Jungle Book is a great homage–I really like the idea of a bunch of vignettes tying together the story of growing up and becoming a complete person ready to take their place in shaping the world and, despite the alternative setting, still paying tribute and forming a modern re-telling of Mowgli’s adventures.

I’m excited to see authors like Gaiman taking to Twitter (@neilhimself) as it allows to me follow their upcoming projects and catch up on things I may have missed. Although it is a past work, I’m looking forward to reading Coraline and, thanks to Twitter, read a fascinating short story by which a stunning art print had been inspired.

As morbid as it sounds, I really appreciate seeing Gaiman write a book rather, well, morbid. The book is accessible to children as it is a children’s book, but it is enriching for an adult as well. I think a lot of children’s books skirt the fact that children are smart and aware of the world around them–that they recognize the difficult and frighting but still retain hope for a fulfilling future where anything is possible.

The idea of fairy-dust at our fingertips seems a bit of a trite way to explain how I felt reading The Graveyard Book, but it’s the only way I can express the innocent belief and wonder that many people lose as they grow older and settle into the mundanity of daily existence. I’d like to believe that it’s possible to retain that fascination and wonder in the world around us. This past weekend I spent time at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden* and found myself captivated by different flowers. While I was there to enjoy the day and beauty, I was also there to work on my photography. Authors like Gaiman and The Graveyard Book remind me that just being amongst the roses is a poor substitute to stopping to smell them and glory in the fact that such beauty exists.

*Coincidentally, Gaiman happened to be out doing beekeeping stuff and was twittering about it while I kept seeing pollen laden bumble and honey bees all over the place as well as a rabbit hanging out in rose garden. The rabbit doesn’t collect pollen though, and some untoward child came running at it scaring it half to death, which was sad. This photo, while not a great shot, is sort of how I feel about living in a dreamlike state of naive bliss. More photos being edited and added in the next few days.

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