I’m an author reader. If I find an author I like, I read everything I can of his or hers. Some of my favorites are Scott Turow, Iain Banks (with or without the middle “M”), Margaret Atwood, John Sandford and C. S. Friedman. They write in many different genres, but all of them are consistently excellent. Past authors include Trevanian and John D. MacDonald; they’ve passed on, but if they came back I’d pick up whatever they wrote in a heartbeat.
So whenever I try out someone new, there’s always the hope that this new writer will become a favorite. Especially if they seem to be reasonably prolific; in that case, I can look forward to weeks and months of reading pleasure. The name Neil Gaiman has been on everyone’s lips for quite a while now, and I finally got around to trying him out. But I don’t know if he’s going to become a favorite or not. I found Anansi Boys a mixed bag.
Gaiman can certainly write; he’s is full of imagination and clever one-liners, and parts of the book are handled in ways that are only attempted by authors who are very self-assured. But the story itself I found lacking; it rambled along a bit too much and seemed somehow out of focus. I kept thinking how cool it would be if he set his talents to producing something a little more linear and to-the-point. But for all that, the book is enjoyable and worth the price. If you like a whimsical story and have a taste for folktales, it should be right up your alley. If you want a full-blown fantasy adventure, well, maybe not.
Writers who are brilliant in comic books (Gaiman has done several very well-received graphic novels in addition to regular comics) and try to go the novel route seem to fail as often as not. Anansi Boys isn’t a hit or a miss, particularly, so I plan on picking up American Gods sometime soon and giving Gaiman another shot.
Post a Comment