Neil Gaiman - British Fantasist in an American Market
The Dream Country is third volume of the acclaimed The Sandman series but
is stand-alone. This edition also contains the original script for the
first of its four stories, Calliope, which might be of interest to
students of illustration. Much of The Dream Country has been translated to film very effectively as part of a Sandman TV series shown on Netflix. If we are to be honest here, Neil Gaiman was
engaged in a project to bring Tales from the Crypt up the literary and
artistic food chain. There is no doubt that he succeeds admirably in
his task, aided by a series of excellent illustrators, but the stories,
with the exception of his re-thinking of the origins of Shakespeare's
'Midsummer Night's Dream', are not complex - poetic and suggestive
perhaps but not complex.
The first story, Calliope, tells
of a writer's abuse of an incarnated muse, an exploitation that has its
sexual side and which brilliantly makes a creative reader feel
besmirched by his own potential for evil in following his artistic
ambition. Gaiman and illustrator Kelley Jones' skill lies in making a
captured Greek mythological figure into the type of sex-trafficked woman
and the artist into little more than a sleazy punter or pimp - a
reversal of romantic views of the artist and her muse that is truly
horrific.
The second, A Dream of a Thousand Cats is a 'take' on
another type of dream, not that of ambition but of dream as magical
transformer of reality. This is a theme that we know from The Matrix
but here it is expressed as the remaking of reality and their history by
humans and cats in turn and intentionally leaves us with a sense of
unease. It might also be read as a commentary on the potential power of
religious faith, born out of suffering, to change the world although the
unease remains just that, unease - there is no real evidence here that
faith changes anything but the faithful or that the faithful have
anything more to look forward to than homeless wandering and more pain.
The
award winning Shakespearian tale is magical at two levels. It is
English-magical in referring back to the Old Religion and the ancient
countryside in a way that should have earned it a place at the 'Dark Monarch' Exhibition by the Tate some years ago on magic and modernity in English
art. But it also revisits the issue of the price paid by the artist in
his obsessive disregard for a greater personal creation than his play
and his bargain with the Dark Lord of the the dream world for
inspiration, a bargain as cruel in its way as that of the writer in Calliope.
Gaiman is different from many of his contemporaries in
questioning here and occasionally elsewhere whether the imagination and
magic are sufficient cause to abandon the world. The conclusion appears
to be that he and other imaginative people can do no other but that they
should be under no illusion that what they do is somehow inevitably
better or nobler than the lives of ordinary mortals. This seems
to be an attitude very different from that of the bulk of the English
School of imaginative and magical writers, of which Alan Moore is
exemplar, where the world of faery, alchemy, imagination and magic seem
to be presented as an alternate reality truer than our mundane world. It
strikes me as no surprise that Gaiman would find himself not only
living happily in America but seemingly welcoming its modernity in later
works. There is an ambiguity in Gaiman that might just, when history
judges him, tip him into the very top rank of authors.
The final
story, Facade, as if to confirm this thesis, is, by contrast very
modern and very American, with a nod to the 'superhero' tradition that
never really embedded itself in Gaiman's homeland except as entertainment import. In this case, we may
have an Egyptian mythological back story and visual references to the
Mummy tradition but the core story is one of mysterious government
agencies and advanced bodily transmutation in which science rather than
magic is dominant. This is the world of Superman if seen through a
very dark lens. Ra's magic is as scientific in its way as the
speculations of Stoker's main protagonist against 'The Mummy' in The Jewel of the Seven Stars nearly a hundred years before.
Taken
together, the four stories are variations on the theme of dreaming a
myth - of the incorporation of myth into reality, of the use of myth to
change reality, of the creative interplay, with its dangers, of myth and
reality and of science as a dream or myth in its own right. The Dark
Lord of the dream world appears in two of them - where myth and legend
are most obviously in sight. The other two have American settings and
owe their style to the American comic book tradition. As in American
Gods, Gaiman is merging European mythic and American popular cultural
traditions with not a little genius.
It is probably no accident
that Gaiman uses a quotation in a letter from the quintessential English
writer of the supernatural, magic and the Old Religion, Arthur Machen,
to the American James Branch Cabell in 1918 as one of his two
introductory quotations. He also quotes separately that all writers are
liars. The two quotations set the mood - an artist-writer hybridising
two great traditions of magic and modernity but not believing that
anything he creates represents anything bigger than a human imaginative
creation. Pragmatic, sceptical, Gaiman uses but is not part of the
English mystical-magical tradition.
Yet, at the end of the day,
while the style is brilliant and the themes intriguing, the attempt to
go beyond the comic book shows the weakness of the genre. In general,
high quality books are far better than the films that they derive from -
we think of Moravia's treatment by no less Directors than Bertolucci
and Godard. On the other hand, films made from comic books and
second-rate pulp fiction tend to be superior to their sources.
There
is an intellectual hierarchy here whether we like it or not, albeit
with exceptions on all sides. This graphic novel is far greater than
most graphic material and it deserves re-reading but you sense that it
is a stepping stone to the prize rather than the prize itself and has
lost something by trying to do more than graphic novels can do. Still,
it has to be in any respectable collection and Gaiman certainly gets the
best out of his illustrators. You will not regret owning it.
As winner of the Hugo, Nebula, Bram Stoker, SFX
and Locus Awards, Neil Gaiman's American Gods (later made into a Starz/Amazon steaming series) is a dark fantasy road trip that raised a lot of
expectations. These are largely fulfilled. Gaiman is a little
defensive in an associated interview about being a Briton who deigns to
comment on America. But he has no need to be. He is not commenting on
what America is but what it believes itself to be - that belief is so
freely expressed to the world through American cultural dominance that
anyone can enter into its spirit surprisingly easily who is prepared to
spend significant time in, and travel through, the country (as Gaiman
has done). Nevertheless, be in no doubt, unlike Stephen King, this is
still a European looking in on America.
As always with such
books, we need to make an effort to avoid spoilers.
Deep analysis of a story that owes something to King yet cannot be
called derivative is not appropriate. What we can say is that Gaiman
bases his fantasy (not truly science fiction nor horror despite the
Awards) on the simple 'spiritual' proposition that if we believe in
something enough, then it becomes real in the world precisely to the
extent that we do believe in it. The history of man, in this
essentially pagan world-view, is the history of the rise and fall of its
gods. These gods include not only ancient gods as we would understand
them from history but the tools of later civilisation such as the
railways, and now the media and internet, all become socially
constructed as real persons who, in this book, can exist in the world.
The
conceit of the book is that immigrants brought memories and beliefs of
their gods to the New World where they became revised and derivative
realities appropriate to their experience. The nature of North American
culture places these beings under intolerable pressure. Instead of
offering an honourable retirement in their original homelands, American
progress pushes them down to the underclass as low-lifes, the
marginalised and as criminals while the gods of the internet and
modernisation ride around in limousines supported by the shadow agencies
of the elite. This makes it sound as if the book has some
political sub-text. This would be a misrepresentation. It is, like its
time in history (written just before 9/11), passive and non-judgemental.
Gaiman observes rather than judges, even has sympathy for the position
of all the players in the game with a very English bias towards the
underdog even when the underdog is a killer - albeit with a clear anger
towards man's inhumanity to man.
Gaiman may have some sympathy for the old gods but he is not sentimental about them. The new gods, in turn, will pass
one day, to be displaced from their high place in public estimation and
so access to the good things in life (whatever the mode of sacrifice)
by yet newer gods. These are memes made flesh. Perhaps Gaiman just
appreciates the humanity within the old gods as they scrabble for their
livelihoods and some semblance of power at the bottom of society. If
anything it is a humanist book - in which the heroes are not the gods
at all but common men, not necessarily very bright but with a
fundamental decency, buffeted by circumstances and manipulated by
persons who never are what they appear to be. There is Shadow himself,
his zombie wife Laura, local police chief Chad Mulligan - all ignorant
creatures of forces beyond their control.
This is about common man
who craves tranquillity whilst not understanding what is going on, even to
the extent of craving non-existence at times as a final relief, but who
can still be transformed by bad experiences and by the ability to take
existential risk. Gaiman captures the psychology of change well,
especially the 'forgetting' that happens (of the experience of change)
so that a new state can be lived without constant reference back to the
old through an unwanted constant remembrance of the transformation
itself. The social reality of America can, of course, be grim. The
improvements that come from making obeisance to the god of the moment
(there is an important sub-plot related to the perfect Mid-Western town
of Lakeside that would be a cliche if it were not so well drawn) always
have a price.
The price paid by humanity for what the gods give
is perhaps what concerns Gaiman (reading between the lines) more than
the gods themselves. These latter are closer to the Greek than the
Judaeo-Christian model - creatures who may be cruel or kind as whim and
sentiment take them. They simply crave being believed in and noticed
(through 'sacrifice'). We are just their pawns if they notice us as
useful - at least until they cease to exist at all. Gaiman
had originally come to prominence as a creative comic book writer (sorry,
graphic novel author). That genre encourages the cultural magpie,
creating new hybrids out of old material - hence the never-ending
developments and cross-overs in universes such as those of DC Comics or
Marvel or the almost encyclopedic knowledge of popular cultural forms
that you find in Alan Moore or, indeed Neil Gaiman's, work.
It is
a tendency is to be found in this book too, although, unusually, since
the visualisation of comic books enables the self-referential and
cultural cherry-picking to be buried in a context that the written word
can often make trite, it works. An annotator could make
references back to American popular fiction and culture on almost every
page but Gaiman nevertheless makes the story stick because he is good at
characterisation, because he makes many of the references allusive
rather than sticking any cleverness down your throat and because he
holds to his theme of confidence trickery, misdirection and stage
management from the very first to the very last pages with consummate
skill. This is what makes the book worth reading and worth the
Awards. It is no mean trick for a writer to make us believe that the
gods might actually exist and be living in your neighbourhood.
(The edition that I have reviewed is the author's preferred text. Not having read the
others, I cannot judge whether this is an improvement on the published
original but there seem to be no self-indulgences.)
Gaiman has become a popular culture industry all of his own spanning more media with more personal control even than, say, King, so it is no surprise to see him using material that did not work in one context in another. Interworld, for example,is a very enjoyable fantasy for young adults that
should not be judged by the standards of adult fiction. It has the feel
of being at the better end of Netflix. It is no surprise to find that
Gaiman and his co-author Michael Reaves derived the novel from an
original animated script for Dreamworks. It is almost certainly
unfilmable (because of the complexity of the visual ideas) as anything
but animation without losing what makes it good - the imaginative
construction of different planes of existence. In fact, it would
probably be weakened by even the best of animators.
While this is
not a masterpiece of world literature and might be classed as a
potboiler from the Gaiman factory, if you do not expect too much you
should enjoy the authors' deployment of memes from children's
literature, science, horror and fantasy within a very entertaining
confection. The 'hero' Joe Harker is someone most adolescent
nerdy kids could identify with (although Gaiman slips in a few British
words and a little British humour into an essentially American small
town story). The outpouring of ideas is a tour de force of imaginary
excess. The attempt to create an interworld through which Walkers
like Joe can travel is certainly not like anything I have read before -
a Lovecraftian fantasy made rather joyful if that were possible. The
science, of course, does not stand up at all but who cares in a fantasy
adventure.
The 'moral universe' is also nicely simplified along
classical lines as a struggle between science and magick (both evil
forces at their extremity) with the Walkers trying to maintain a
universal balance. There is even a reference to the mothers of Sparta to
indicate a pagan influence. As for the villainous Dogknife and
his evil sidekicks Lady Indigo (straight out of Oz) and Scarabus (via
Ray Bradbury perhaps), the authors certainly know how to create a
memorable and truly evil enemy. A challenge will be to do the same with
Binary the science rival to the world of Hex in a sequel. Educated adults
(at least those educated in pulp fiction and the classics) will enjoy
the references from Gernsback to (of course) Lovecraft, all suitably
re-engineered for a High School reader. When needed, small town life is
as well drawn as Stephen King draws it.
Yes, lots of ideas
derived from lots of sources but it hangs together as fantasy quite well
so long as you really are very good at the art of suspending disbelief.
If you are without imagination yourself, you will be bored and hate it. This is a guilty pleasure for adults lying in bed feeling a
little under the weather (as I was) and probably a real pleasure for
many young adults.