The first thing about this book is that it’s fun, good-humoured, a rollicking yarn. Gaiman can tell a story, and stories within and about stories, totally holding our interest while knitting them together into a colourful and madly logical crazy quilt. He can sweep readers up into his extraordinary world and into a kind of boyish exuberance – like, at the bawdy end of the market,...
more The first thing about this book is that it’s fun, good-humoured, a rollicking yarn. Gaiman can tell a story, and stories within and about stories, totally holding our interest while knitting them together into a colourful and madly logical crazy quilt. He can sweep readers up into his extraordinary world and into a kind of boyish exuberance – like, at the bawdy end of the market, Tom Robbins, at the chaste end, Terry Pratchett.
The second thing is that it’s in an oblique way wise and deep. Oblique: it’s not boringly spelt out; that’s what reviewers and philosophers, without the great gift of story, are reduced to. It’s all there in the way the story glints. But I’ll spell it out a bit, trying to persuade you.
This review contains plot spoilers. If you are going to read the book anyway, read the book first. If you haven’t decided to read it, read the review. If it prompts you to read the book you’ll still get more enjoyment from that than grief from the spoiling.
In the main arc of story the very ordinary, overcivilized Charlie Nancy learns that his father was the Spider-god Anansi, and that he has a long-lost brother, Spider, who inherited all the god stuff. His father had made his life a misery, his brother comes to. By a long route he comes to reclaim his inheritance; to embrace his shadow.
Anansi is the trickster archetype. (All the Jungian jargon is mine, not Gaiman’s, but the themes glare.) One gloss on the trickster stories is new, as far as I know. They were originally Tiger stories, about getting what one wanted by brutality; but Anansi stole them (“earnt†them, he claims), adapting them into stories about getting what one wanted – sex, food, victory in struggles – by cunning. People take on the shapes of the stories and songs that surround them; so people started to think their way out of their problems – sometimes, of course, into worse problems. That’s when they started to make the human world.
So far, improvement, but no goals beyond the selfish. So Anansi must be superseded as surely as Tiger. The conceit that Spider is the severed shadow of Charlie is put to use. If Charlie starts as a symbolic eunuch (my image, not Gaiman’s), Spider starts as what was cut off from him; and as Wayland Young summed up his tract Eros Denied, if there’s one thing even more pathetic than a eunuch it’s his severed balls.
Gaiman works to a happy resolution. Not merely does Charlie grow his inner Spider; despite God-like powers, Spider was even more limited as a human than Charlie, and he learns grow his inner Charlie. He learns care for some others, even something like commitment. – My pompous “moral-drawing†is enormously flat; the story detail does it all, and is vastly hillier.
The book deals with deep evil too, but in an interesting and unusual way, mirroring the way Charlie deals with it in the climax: taking away its power by mockery. (Read it; you’ll see how it works. Just that is worth more than the price of admission.)
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