I must admit the blurb on the inside flap did pique my curiosity. Everything was so vague - 'our narrator' (what's his name?), 'dark forces' (ooh, what are they?) - it made me want to start reading right away to discover what the heck this was all about. We never do actually learn what the name of the narrator is, which could have had an alienating effect, but actually didn't. In fact, I'd say that the anonymity of the narrator actually makes the narrative seem more real and immediate because you feel as if you are the narrator (barring, of course, the fact that I am not a seven-year-old boy). It adds a strangely personal feel to the whole book, which makes the events in it all the more potent.
The narrator may be recalling his childhood, but do not make the mistake of thinking this is a children's book. This is definitely an adult novel. Actually reading it while writing my dissertation and researching crossover fiction was a bit of a lucky coincidence because this book made me question the whole idea of adulthood and childhood. I think it's probably a standard trope in fiction by now, but seeing the events through a child's eyes you realise that children see things much more clearly than adults do. This novel does make you question the idea of reality and of memory - how much of what we recall from childhood is true and how much is fantasy constructed through snippets of memories? This is the question at the heart of The Ocean at the End of the Lane and it left me pondering my own memories of childhood.
"Everything whispered inside me. Everything spoke to everything, and I knew it all."
Gaiman's writing is subtle but effective. I was honestly terrified at certain points in this book. Ursula Monkton is quite possibly one of the scariest villains I've ever come across in fiction. Perhaps it was because we saw her through a child's eyes and children see horrors in much starker terms than adults do, but every time she appeared I shuddered with fear and revulsion. Without giving too much away, I have never been a big fan of birds, especially crows and their ilk, and after reading this book I like them even less. There is plenty in here to provide your imagination with fodder for nightmares! As well as being scary, the narrative has emotional heart too. The friendship between the narrator and Lettie Hempstock is both sweet and touching. The Hempstock women make a wonderful family unit and demonstrate that female characters in fantasy can be strong and resilient.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a mesmerizing tale, one that captures your imagination and sweeps you along. To be honest, I didn't think initially I was going to enjoy it, but as I kept reading on it started to enthrall me. Gaiman plays on the notion of imagination and fantasy in an expert way, and while the action is resolved, like our narrator, the conclusion leaves us with some unanswered questions. Far from leaving us unsatisfied, however, you are left with a sense of contentment, accepting that, much like in life, we will never hold all the answers. Truth is a hazy concept and each individual will have a different perception if what is true and what is false. In essence, this is a novel about fantasy itself. Neil Gaiman, you are something of a genius. I promise to find time to read the rest of your work now!
