Coraline: The Other Other World

I read Neil Gaiman's novella of Coraline in late 2007 (I was about 21). The story is technically written for kids, but it still succeeded in creeping me out (I mean that in the best possible way). Coraline is a young girl who feels neglected by her parents, and when she finds a bizarre door in her house leading to an alternate world similar to, but more interesting than her own, she can't resist the thought of staying there forever. However, not all is as it seems; all of the residents of the Other World (I had read Coraline before I started this blog, but I don't think I intentionally stole the title from the book) have big black buttons over their eyes, and although her Other Mother and Other Father seem nice and fun, she quickly learns that the Other Mother has sinister plans.

The film version of Coraline, directed by Henry Sellick (he also directed The Nightmare Before Christmas), is extremely faithful to the book. The basic plot is the same, and the characterizations are nearly spot-on from the book. The largest difference is the inclusion of a character named Wybie; Sellick created Wybie so that Coraline would have someone to talk to on her journey, rather than speaking to herself during many parts of the narrative (though that worked in Alice in Wonderland). For the most part, Wybie was a good addition to the story; my only gripe is the way he affected the climax (in the book, Coraline relied completely on her wits, whereas in the movie, Wybie intervened).

But what made me happiest was the way the film faithfully kept the book's dark tone. Whenever Coraline was in the Other World, even when things still seemed great, there was a sense of foreboding, a "not-quite-right" feeling. Yes, I knew what was coming, but the button eyes, sickly sweet disposition of the Other Mother, and unnatural aspects all created a creepy vibe for the audience. I still have a hard time believing how relatively successful the movie was because of the tone (then again, Nightmare Before Christmas is a cult classic); I knew that Gaiman and Sellick fans would go see this, but I wasn't sure how much mainstream appeal it would generate.

Not only did the movie do fairly well at the box office, it was critically acclaimed. This is one of the best non-Pixar animated films I've ever seen, and the critics agreed. After seeing this, I finally became convinced that we could finally get a Good Omens movie; in the past, movies based on Neil Gaiman works have been poorly received and/or ignored by moviegoers, but now, we have seen that a Gaiman-based film can succeed on both counts.

Finally, I think this was the first theatrical movie I saw in 3D, and until seeing it, I had been skeptical about the new format. I wondered if it would be able to translate to the home theater format, and I was afraid that a lot of movies would resort to "cheap 3D tricks" (to quote Muppet Vision 3D from Disney MGM Studios). Coraline, however, was able to use the 3D technology effectively without throwing in any 3D gags (my fear was based on the Monsters vs. Aliens trailer, which was full of them, such as a guy playing with a wooden paddle and ball).

Up next: The art of parody...

The Sandman: What Dreams May Come

One reason that I find describing the actual plot of Sandman difficult is that it is very much a character study. There are many great character-based stories that I enjoy that can be easily summarized; Buffy is about a girl who has been chosen to combat vampires and demons, American Beauty is about a man's midlife crisis/reawakening, and LOST is about a group of people marooned on a tropical island. Granted, I am eliminating all of the nuance and why the plots are what they are, but it is possible to encapsulate those stories into a brief sentence. Gaiman describes the plot this way: The lord of dreams learns he must change or die, and makes his choice. Unlike the plot descriptions I listed, which can be divined from a brief trailer, one would not realize that Sandman's plot had anything to do with change until it was over.

Though each story arc has its own self-contained storyline, the whole doesn't come together until near the end. Y: The Last Man, another Vertigo series with a planned ending, had self-contained story arcs, but from the beginning, there was a clear goal for Yorick Brown to achieve. With The Sandman, Dream is not striving towards anything in general. He is going about his duties, and confronts various obstacles along the way. Dream has enemies, but he doesn't have an arch-villain like Lex Luthor. In fact, the beings that cause him the most trouble do not attack him for personal reasons. And, as I said in the last post, humans tend to drive the story more than Dream or any of the Endless.

The Sandman does have an overall plot, but, like a good dream, it is fragmented by various stories that only fully make sense once they are looked at as a whole. Most of the long story arcs take place in the present, while most of the one-shot stories take place in the past. Dream says things and meets with people in the present, and these things seem strange until we see a scene from the past that explains it. In the first storyline, there is a segment where Dream is in Hell to reclaim his sigil, and while there, he runs into a soul who begs for forgiveness. This is meaningless until we learn of his history with Dream. Speaking of Dream's time in Hell, the theme of that issue is Hope, and though the idea of hope is reiterated again in the series (Despair reminds us that dreams are hopes, and that she is jealous of her brother because she is a creature of nothing but despair), the illustration of the power of hopes and dreams in that issue is incredible. Going back to the past/present stories, there are also times when recurring characters in stories taking place in the past come back in the present to set off major events.

Like most of Gaiman's work, fantasy and reality are expertly integrated. In the waking world, there are immortals and gods who walk the Earth, but they are not nearly as powerful as we imagine them to be. Only in dreams do they have that kind of power. There are a few times when things get slightly more fantastic in reality than they otherwise would be, but that is partially because the series initially took place in the DC universe, then slowly shifted into its own once Vertigo stopped being a part of mainstream DC continuity. Plenty of "weird shit" (as one character refers to it) happens in the waking world, but not everyone who experiences the weird shit ends up believing that the weird shit actually happened. Sometimes, they convince themselves that it was just a dream. But, as Dream says early on, it is NEVER just a dream.

Up next: Legends...

The Sandman: The Heart of the Dreaming

Without mortal living beings, there would be no Endless. If there were no beings who could dream, or desire, or die, Dream, Desire, and Death would have no purpose. And so, many of the story arcs feature Dream as a co-protagonist, while humans in the waking world take on equally important roles.

One of the best examples is A Game of You, a story which takes place about halfway through the series. A young woman in New York realizes that the fairy tale land she dreamed of as a child is coming back to reclaim her. The world exists in the Dreaming (Dream's realm) because she imagined it, and it is being taken over by a malevolent nightmare creature. The beings that inhabit it, who were her imaginary friends when she was a little girl, send an envoy to the waking world in order to bring her back in an attempt to save it. Had she not imagined the Land (that is the name of her imaginary world), there would be no story.

That brings me to one aspect of the Dreaming that I enjoyed very much. In Dream's castle is a library that contains every book ever imagined. And by that, I mean every book EVER conceived, whether it got published, written, or never left the mind of the author (in the Dreaming, I am a published author). Dream has the power to create nightmares that never existed in the waking world, but the Dreaming is filled with things that reflect our imaginations. For example, the gates of the castle are guarded by mythological creatures that never really existed, but they are creatures we are familiar with because we imagined them.

Some humans are powerful enough to have drastic effects on the Dreaming itself. Two characters are introduced in the second story arc, The Doll's House, that each can have profound effects on Dream and the Dreaming (I don't want to go too far into who they are or what they can do in an effort to not spoil anything). We are the dreamers and we are the creators of myth and story.

Up next: A midsummer night's Dream...

The Sandman: Endless Entertainment

How do I begin? As I said, The Sandman represents not only the work that made Neil Gaiman into Neil Gaiman, but it is also regarded as one of the best and most important comic book series of all time. For about seven years (is that somehow symbolic?), Gaiman told the story of Dream, the third sibling of the Endless, seven beings who had dominion over various states of being. Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium made up a wonderfully dysfunctional family that has been around since the universe was here. The are older than the oldest god and will be here until the last sentient being in the universe is gone. (**NOTE: Although I will not be discussing plot in this post, I will be talking about things that can be construed as spoilers, so be careful**) They rule over their dominions believing that they are in control of their aspects, when the very opposite may be true. They are extremely powerful, but like other higher powers in Gaiman's worlds, they exist to serve those they control.

This first post will focus on the Endless because I think that they are a wonderful concept. For one thing, I tend to agree with Gaiman on the nature of higher beings; gods are created by men, not the other way around. We needed ways to explain the unexplainable, so we created deities more powerful than ourselves and worshipped our ideas. Gods are at the height of their power when they are actively and widely worshipped, and they do not die until they are finally forgotten. But the time between being worshipped and being forgotten can last many years. However, things like desire, destruction, and (especially) death will never be forgotten. We may not worship the Endless, but we are obsessed with them because we cannot escape them. Death is an inevitability that nearly everyone fears and some wish to overcome. In fact, the series begins when a magician in the early 20th century tries to do just that (his mistaken result sets off the events of the series, but more on that in a later post). Dreams and delirium are the obsessions of psychiatrists who seek to understand the human mind. We all dream, and often wonder what the images and experiences mean. As for delirium, I believe that no one is ever completely sane, and while some people may be crazier than others, sanity is relative. As for desire and despair, I have to admit that Gaiman is a genius making them twins. These are both very powerful emotions that can often go together. Unfulfilled desires often lead to despair, and because desire is often not based on reality (intense crushes tend to cause the person who has them to view the object of their desire as more ideal than the person truly is). Destiny is a little trickier, but there are certainly people who believe that everything is fated. I think one of the reasons Destiny had to be included was because he is in many ways the anti-Dream; one is the lord of everything that was, is, and ever will be, while the other's dominion is what never was, isn't, and never will be. And destruction is inevitable; whether it is intended or not, nothing new can be created without the old being destroyed.

And that is as good a segway as any into the idea of the Endless as "lords of opposites", as Destruction says. The Endless states are so powerful that they literally define their opposites. As I said above, destruction often leads to creation. We define life by looking at death; we do what we can while we are here because we know it will end one day. Desire often leads to hatred and repulsion, especially when despair gets involved. And dreams can define reality. In the series, an early issue suggests that this is literally true; Dream tells a cat that if enough beings dream the same dream, reality will reflect those dreams. But in our reality, the truth isn't far off. Before anything can happen in the waking world, someone must have thought about it. Someone must have dreamed it. Martin Luther King had a dream. It may not have been fully realized yet, but we are certainly getting closer to seeing it become reality (just look at our next president!) because enough people believe in it.

But aside from how well-conceived the Endless are, I think I enjoy them so much because they are also well-written. Especially Death. Unlike most representations of Death, Gaiman's Death is perky, cheery, optimistic, and cute. No one in the entire series values life more than Death. She is arguably the most popular character from the series, and is certainly one of my favorites. For a while, she was definitely my favorite character from the series, but I have to admit that Delirium really grew on my in the final issues. Part of it has to do with the fact that I met someone who has become a very close friend, and Delirium reminds me of her a bit. This is nothing but a compliment; the best qualities of Delirium are at times reflected in this person (and there are other things as well), and it made me smile reading these final issues, seeing as how Delirium grows from a relatively weak and timid character into a competent one.

Still, I think that Death will forever be my favorite Endless, if for no other reason than she exemplifies the opposing nature of them so well. In what other story involving a personification of Death are you going to hear it discussing Disney's film version of Mary Poppins and trying to explain the meaning of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?! This panel made me laugh out loud when I saw it:

I know that this post made it sound like this book is about nothing more than the adventures of the Endless, but that is not true. In fact, the opposite is true. The Endless exist to serve humans, despite what a few of them wish to think. The Sandman is about life and storytelling, and the stories belong to humanity. Therefore, while the Endless generally and Dream in particular are the protagonists, the events would not happen nor would they have any importance if it weren't for the humans involved.

Up next: Dream a little dream of me...

Good Omens: God's Sense Of Humor

Had I written this post but a week ago, I would have opened with a touching story about a special significance this book has to me. Sadly, this is no longer relevant. Fortunately, the book itself remains awesome.

This book can be a hard sell to some; it is best summed up as a comedy about the end of the world, which can be slightly off-putting to some. One of the review blurbs in my edition refers to it as, "The Book of Revelations, as told by Monty Python", which is another good description, but once again can turn some people off (mainly people who thought that Life of Brian was blasphemous garbage). But like many satires that target organized religion (Life of Brian, Saved!, Dogma), the goal of Good Omens is not to bring down Christianity, but to point out a few of its shortcomings and foibles.

According to Gaiman, the book evolved from a short story idea he had that eventually became Adam's story in the book. Adam, by the way, is the Antichrist. Gaiman was unsure where to take the story, and he began talking to friend and fellow author Terry Pratchett. Based on the way they describe each other in the afterward sections, I joked that Pratchett is a humor writer with a good sense of sci-fi/fantasy while Gaiman is a sci-fi/fantasy writer with a good sense of humor. Eventually, they began working on a much bigger story together.

While a few different plots intertwine in Good Omens, I believe that it is safe to say that the main characters are an angel, Aziraphale, and a demon, Crowley, both of whom have been stationed on Earth since at least the Garden of Eden. Over the roughly 2000 years they've known each other, Aziraphale and Crowley have formed a sort of friendship, described in the book as similar to that of American and Soviet agents who spend more time embedded with each other than with their distant superiors. They often get together to discuss the plans of the universe and pick apart ideas humanity has towards God and Satan. They have also come to understand humanity much better than any of their Heaven- or Hell-based compatriots (Crowley understands that it is easier to do one small bad deed and let humans react poorly than to try to perform difficult, hands-on methods when trying to get people to commit acts that will lead to Hell).

Since they have some divine powers, life on Earth has been pretty good for them, especially Crowley, who indulges in many of life's luxuries without have to earn or pay for them. He owns a large London apartment, a vintage sports car (which does not require him to purchase fuel, except once when he wanted some free giveaway prize that came with a gasoline purchase), and can sleep through entire decades if he so chooses. Therefore, when news comes that the time of the Antichrist is upon the world, they are both somewhat upset that their cozy time on Earth will end within twelve years, but they understand that the plans are much bigger than either of them. Crowley is the demon responsible for making sure the baby Antichrist is placed with the correct family, that of an American diplomat living in England (if you've ever seen the 1976 film, The Omen, feel free to laugh now). Unfortunately, the Satanic Nuns running the hospital fumble the switch, and a random British family from a rural town end up with the baby by accident (if you aren't already chuckling, now is the time to start).

Eleven years pass, and Aziraphale and Crowley have continued to meet, and have occasionally checked in on Warlock, the boy believed to be the Antichrist. But when a portent fails to occur (or at least fails to occur to Warlock), the pair realize what has happened, and are horrified when they think of what might happen to them if their bosses find out. They start looking for the baby, who is now going by the name of Adam.

As the story progresses, we are introduced to multiple other storylines; for example Adam and his friends, who compose a gang known as "Them", are a key storyline, as we see how he transforms from "innocent" young boy into the potential destroyer of the world. Of course, this being a satire and all, Adam isn't going to destroy the world because he is evil, but because he is a child! Yeah. Think about it for a second. Then there is Anathema Device and Newt Pulsifer, two characters brought together by a bizarre twist of fate. Anathema is the last surviving descendant of Agnes Nutter, a witch, and the most accurate seer in history (unfortunately, since she had no words for some of the things she saw in her visions, such as motorcycles, it was sometimes hard to decipher what her prophecies meant until after the events had occurred). Newt is the newest member of the witch hunter army, and the descendant of the witch hunter who put Nutter to death by burning at the stake. The story of Anathema and Newt follows them trying to find the Antichrist themselves in order to prevent the end of the world.

Finally, the gathering of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse slowly occurs over the course of the book. Alone, each of them causes their dreaded name to occur at various parts of the world (War, posing as an arms dealer, causes fighting to break out wherever she goes, while Famine causes not only crop failures, but also can cause people to eat food of no nutritional value). But as they come together, they leave fear and destruction in their wake.

As I said, this is my favorite of the three books in this series of posts. It mixes (and outdoes) the humor of Anansi Boys with thematic brilliance that made American Gods great. In the opening of the book, the authors talk about some of the copies they've seen at signings; since many people read and reread the book numerous times, many of the copies have seen a lot of wear and tear (they gave an example of one copy being nothing more than a bunch of loose pages in a ziplock bag). On the other hand, they also brought up one person who built an oak chest with silver trim to house his copy. As I'm writing this, I am getting a huge urge to reread the book, despite the fact that I am currently in the middle of another book, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

I would really like to see Gaiman and Pratchett team up again (though it is unlikely since Gaiman now lives on our side of the pond), or I should probably start reading some of Pratchett's solo work. But this is a perfect introduction to both authors. It gives a small taste of their greatness.

Up next: Trying to decide...

Anansi Boys: Animal Instincts

Sorry about the title, I couldn't think of anything incredibly witty, and I thought it'd be kind of funny to reference the final joke of Forgetting Sarah Marshall, even though it has nothing to do with this book.

Of the three books, this one is the most fun, in the sense that it exists more to tell a story than to wax poetic on grand themes (however, I could be completely wrong). The story is still deep and uses the rules set in American Gods, but Anansi Boys is a story about sibling rivalry, stepping out of your father's shadow, and learning to stand up for yourself. The two main characters, "Fat" Charlie and Spider, are the sons of the spider god Anansi (who went by the name Mr. Nancy in American Gods). Anansi was a trickster god from African mythology; his stories were about his interactions with other animal spirits, like Monkey, Snake, Lion, Bird, and Tiger, who he often deceived for various reasons. Anansi could get anything he wanted through his deceptions, whether it be material (such as food) or intangible (such as credit). This didn't make him very popular with the other animal spirits, who have come to resent and/or hate the god.

The Mr. Nancy incarnation of the god settled in America and settled down. His son Charlie (who received the unwanted moniker "Fat" from his father) has been, for as long as he can remember, a timid and unmotivated man, a bit of a George McFly type character. He does not rock the boat, refuses to do anything that may embarrass himself even the least bit, and will take any and all crap given out to him by his boss and future mother-in-law (it's a wonder he has a girlfriend due to to his sheer inability to do anything daring, which includes asking people out).

The tiniest things cause Fat Charlie to become embarrassed, so it goes without saying that his father's over-the-top antics didn't sit will with Charlie. Fat Charlie moved to London, which is where he was when he received news of his father's death. Events at the funeral led to the discovery of a long-lost brother named Spider who seems like he is Anansi's true son; Spider is a bit of a trickster and has god-like powers of persuasion and deception.

The story follows the brothers as they learn to accept each other and themselves. Of course, this wouldn't be a Gaiman story without some mythology thrown in; a few of the animal spirits show up to help, hinder, or do both to the boys.

This sounded a lot more like a review than an observation of the story, but like I said, this book was more about story than theme, and it is a great story. In addition to the mythology, it has Gaiman's trademark wit, and that alone is worth reading the book for.

Up next: Incredible Omens...

American Gods: Modern Mythology

We'll begin with American Gods. It is the longest, most complex, and, in a way, most fulfilling book of the three (my favorite is Good Omens, but this one is more "pure Gaiman", since Omens was written alongside another author; however that is not a bad thing). The story focuses on a man named Shadow (I'm fairly certain that was his nickname, but his origins and real name are only vaguely hinted at), who is released from prison a few days early due to the death of his wife. Laura was his raison d'etre, and without her, Shadow is directionless. He soon meets an enigmatic man who uses the pseudonym Wednesday; Wednesday offers Shadow the job of personal bodyguard, and takes him on a journey that makes Shadow come to some strange realizations about the world he lives in.

Wednesday is a representation (or bastardization) of the Norse god Odin (the word Wednesday comes from Woden's Day, with Woden being one name for Odin, while Thursday originated from Thor's Day), and he explains to Shadow that a war is brewing between the "old gods" and the "new gods", though he is reluctant to describe who these "new gods" are.

The thematic aspects of the book examine what gods are, as well as the nature of the American people and their beliefs. Gods and their worshipers form a mutually dependent relationship; man needs the gods to do the things we think of when we think of religion (explain death, suffering, and the unknown), while the worship of man gives life to gods. Today, the gods of ancient civilizations, including Odin, Kali, and Anubis, are weak, since few people believe in them. Yet they live because we remember them. A god doesn't completely die until they are completely forgotten.

Throughout the course of the story, Shadow travels across America, where he encounters many of the old gods who are trying to live their lives in peace. They are in America because they were brought here in the hearts and minds of the many people who settled here throughout the years. They are the leftover ideas of long-forgotten traditions. Chicago, which is home to a large Polish community, houses Czernobog and the Zorya, Slavic deities, while Eostre, a pagan goddess, calls San Francisco home. They have been brought here and largely forgotten about, since America is very quick to embrace the new and deify it.

This brings us to the new gods: technology. Yes, I'm serious. When I first realized that telecommunications, television, and media outlets were the new GODS, I was a little surprised and slightly let down. I knew that Gaiman could make an interesting story out of that kind of situation, but there seemed to be something off about the idea. Technology isn't divine, it's completely man-made. Then I realized a few things. First, the book stands behind the idea that everything we consider divine originated in the human mind (a claim that I tend to agree with). But more importantly, I realized that Americans do in fact deify technology. I came to this conclusion when I returned home from the swimming pool, where I was reading the book in the sun, in a vain attempt to get some color that wasn't red. On the kitchen table was a miniature beach chair that my sister won at a carnival. The U.S. Cellular logo was emblazoned across the chair, and I had no idea what use a chair that size could serve. My dad reasoned that it was a chair for cell phones, a cute place to put them while they were not in one's pocket. And right there, I realized that we as a society certainly lift up technology beyond what it truly is, a means to make life easier for us (similar to the purpose of gods), if we make furniture for these inanimate objects.

These are the main themes of the book, but the way they are explained/experienced by the characters is what makes the book great. Different people have different ideas of how these ideas should affect the world. The book is an epic story, will certainly make you think about your relationship with the world around you.

Up next: Spider-men...