The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Neil Gaiman can tell a tale. Seriously, he is a wonderful storyteller. I could hear this book in my head and I felt like I was by a fire, listening to an eccentric uncle tell a wildly imaginative story. A man returns to the to the town where he grew up to attend a funeral. At some point, he ends up returning to a neighbor’s farm past the spot where his boyhood home once stood. Behind the farmhouse is a pond and when he sits down at the edge of the pond an ocean of memories come flooding back.

Gaiman tells the story of this man’s childhood with charm and grace. We never know what is allegory and what is reality. And while the story is highly enjoyable all along the way, we can’t help but wonder what is fable, what is symbol, and what is truth. Clearly, the tale is tall, but what underlying themes and events did Gaiman experience? Which parts of the fairy tale are rooted in real emotion, real experiences?

This book is less than 180 pages, but is packed full of gorgeous imagery and fascinating characters. Told in first person, the dialog is sparse, but the narrative shows us a vivid setting and intriguing action. Going in, I knew nothing about the plot and I’m grateful. Therefore, I’m going to stop here with my review. Enjoy this moving and beautiful tale.

Unsettlingly beautiful and odd. Completely unpredictable, the author often conjures plot & problems out of thin air. You’ll want more information, but often get none. This feels by design, like a window pane into an alternate universe. The story telling technique is unmatched, but the story, ultimately, feels a bit unfocused. If you’re a fan of movies like Coraline or The Number 9, you’ll like this book. Otherwise, it will leave an unfinished and cloudy impression.

Weird and whimsical, also beautifully melancholy almost to a depressing degree. Reader beware getting pulled into that depression. Totally worth the tears I cried.