I’ve just finished reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman. Literally, just finished, I closed it about ten minutes ago. I usually think about a book for a day or so, then write some stuff down to help me remember it. This book, I’m not so sure I’m going to get very far past ‘ohmygodthisbookisamazing’. Maybe I’ll just cover the rest of the page in little love hearts to emphasise the point.
The point being, I don’t think I can hold all of this book in my mind all at once, so I can think about it logically. The scope of things, the range of people, the expanse of the landscape, is enough that I’m sort of sitting here like I’ve been brained with a very large hammer.
I have managed to grasp a couple of points, and have added about ninety things to my mental list of things to read more about, and I’m happy that there are author’s names in the acknowledgements, so I can start hunting down some new-to-me books.
I think what I’ve ended up with, at the end of this journey, is a vague feeling that I’ve learned something about the nature of people, and of gods, which can’t be a bad thing. Once again, living at the bottom of the world lends a definite feeling of distance to proceedings, so it seems more fantasy to me than it would to someone who lived in Minnesota, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing either.