American Gods
By Jhack via Flickr
I’ve been way into myth lately. From retellings, to reading the tales themselves via Edith Hamilton, to picking up literary criticism about the trickster figure, it’s been an unofficial theme of this winter.
American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, therefore came into my life at the perfect time. It tells of the gods of the Old World, Odin and Anansi and the Queen of Sheba, and imagines them in American of today. They live among nonbelievers, and exist by their wits and godly gifts.
Gaiman has kind of crept up on me. I dug the Sandman graphic series, Coraline made my skin itch with creepiness, and my preadolescent love of fantasy means Stardust holds a special place in my heart. But American Gods was the first time I appreciated his writing, not just his storytelling.
When you create a world of fantasy, it’s important to keep your reader grounded. These gods crave food, sex and cigarettes. And now they must face the New World gods of media and internet and cities, who don’t require worshippers because they control the hearts and minds of their viewers without any effort.
The main human character, Shadow, is not a hero in the mythic sense, but his story adds an earthiness to the otherworldly tone of the story. The flashbacks serve as reminders of the potpourri of beliefs that came to America, from Ireland and Sweden and Africa. It’s an epic, sweeping book that covers much of the United States as a battle looms imminently between the fading guard and the new gods, and a perfect coda to my mini-obsession.
Want more?
This website looks like it was made in 1996, but has some great stories arranged by theme.
And this photo of Gaiman’s library makes me drool.