(Photo from Goodreads.com)
But besides the insubstantial connection with the author that refuses to be pinned down, there are many concrete things that make the novel wonderful. As always, Neil Gaiman's style and word choices delight me. His prose is simply a pleasure to read. It's beautiful, and art all on its own.
The subtlety of the story helps urge this beauty along. The novel, though it is yet another account of good versus evil, feels so fresh and crisp. The story is short, but it turns in such a way that it feels much longer than its word count would suggest. It's epic in feel, and all of that concentrated feeling is engaging in a way that I haven't been engaged in a while.
Patrick Rothfuss, my favorite author, said that this story made him cry, not because of the events, but because the story was told so masterfully. (I paraphrased there, he was much more eloquent.) I did too. At first, I didn't really understand what he meant by that, but somewhere in the middle, I realized that what I was holding was pure, distilled beauty. It squeezed my heart and made it ache.
Plus, it's full to bursting of complex, wonderful, strong female characters. I'm so tired of cliche females in stories. These women felt so real. They made me feel proud, rather than exasperated. I won't go into the beauty of them, because their roles are kind of spoilers, and I don't want to give any spoilers, but I'm sure you'll notice when you pick up the book.
I would recommend this book to anyone and everyone because it is, quite simply, a masterpiece.
And that's coming from someone who didn't think you could get much better than American Gods.
I am better for reading this book.
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