The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Inside of us all, the child that remains
I love the beautiful and heartfelt reviews listeners have thus far shared; there is so much revealed in their responses. How could there not be if they experienced this book. I say experienced because if you just listen, if you don’t at some point feel something inside of you open and resonate with Gaiman’s tale, you missed a dimension of this book– as much as if you missed the secret hidden 3D pictures in those once popular Stereogram books. (You can find some at www.eyetrick.com to see what I mean. I struggled with those dang things!)
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is about more than just growing up or defining an adult world with a child’s mind: it is about the process and mechanisms, the loss of innocence, becoming of this world. Gaiman maps this mystical, but very real dimension–as fearful as it is beautiful; primordially familiar–yet different for each one of us. The landscape is the experiences that as children we felt but did not have the sophistication to understand; the fears, the comforts, the effects we hadn’t yet aligned with cause. A world where our favorite color, or feel, or taste might materialize in some form as a landmark or grounding we understood amidst the confusion of an adult world. Gaiman presents a pure and unfiltered portrayal of that world, which he captures brilliantly.
I’ve read very few of Gaiman’s books because I don’t usually choose fantasy. Those I’ve read were good, but still a little like a chocolate lover choosing vanilla. As I began reading this, I thought it more like Coraline, another read suited more for adolescents. It wasn’t until the picture really came into focus that something resonated inside, and I stepped into this book. I thought back — when the babysitter told me I’d stepped on a devil thorn and a blue line would start to climb up my leg, reach my heart, and I’d die…remembered my grandma’s swing tied to a horse chestnut tree, and smelled the mint along the her ditch banks… I’m sure each reader filled in their own response, or landscape to this world. It all popped out in front of me; I saw, and felt, the genius in this book. Baudeliare said, “Genius is childhood recalled at will” If that is so, then Gaiman is definitely a genius that shares his brilliance with pen and paper, and reminds us that we were (or maybe are) once geniuses ourselves.
*Having Gaiman present his work is another aspect of magic. His voice lulls you into this world; it saves you when it is dark and threatening, it comforts you when it is frightening, and it holds a hint of a child that speaks to your own inner child. Just Wonderful.