The Gods Must Be Blind

Neil Gaiman, American Gods, 2002
Awards sometimes go to the wrong people. Anyone who saw Titanic win nearly a dozen Oscars knows what I'm talking about; what was celebrated that night was the marketing power to sell millions of cinema tickets rather than cinematic genius. When I picked up this novel, I had no clue this was the case too with Gaiman's victory at the Hugo, Nebula and Bram Stoker awards. Gaiman was celebrated for his "great" American novel but I have no doubt that he was awarded for being a cult figure that shifts copies rather than a decent writer. American Gods is everything but good writing and Neil Gaiman's spiritual siblings are Dean Koontz, Dan Brown and Danielle Steel.

Over 600 flat(ulent) pages, Gaiman tells a lot of mediocre tall tales and shows nearly nothing in his non-existant plot. The story follows the release of two-dimensional Shadow from prison and the discovery of his wife and best friend's death to encounters and travels with gods from the "Old Countries" who need his help in an upcoming war. Gods that are made indistinguishable from each other through pointless dialogue. Gods that are in a war with America's new Gods (Media God, Credit Card God, Television God, etc.) The God, though, that seems to win in nearly every page is the God of Sleep (with a lot of help from the God of Tedium).

If Gaiman wanted to successfully incorporate Native American myths into his novel, he should have studied Thomas King's work (Green Grass, Running Water in particular).  For Science Fiction that plays with religion in a thought-provoking way, he could have turned to Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny. For great American road novels, Jim Dodge's Not Fade Away could have helped.  And even for the lacklustre horror that didn't deserve a Bram Stoker, he could have taken a thing or two from Stephen King's early work.

This is the first time I've read something by Gaiman so I'm reluctant to assume his other work is equally mediocre. But if he won awards for this one, I can only image the treasure trove of cliched metaphors and hackneyed settings awaiting me elsewhere. Hopefully no Gods will trick me into making that mistake again.