Justin Hobbs Hobbs itibaren Niegardów, Pollando
Gaiman is one of those authors I never read unless prompted even though it seems I always love his work. American Gods was no different. Great book. A fairly tight piece of literature, entertaining, educational, a little inspirational. I love the way Gaiman invents mythical frameworks and then shows you what they are only by making you balance on top of them. I love the way he doesn't introduce characters if they're only going to appear in one scene -- and not just characters, but themes, whole sentences. In that way American Gods reminded me of the last good book I read, Slaughterhouse-Five. There are no isolated incidents. Not that American Gods has the startling originality or perfectly tortured meaning of the Vonnegut, but I enjoyed it just as much. It sure ain't crap. But there are things I wished had been tighter, wished had been better explained. I guess you'd render a work about the gods mortal and pedestrian if you explained everything, but that feels like a cop-out. I want to know what was up with the gold coin and the Las Vegas man in gray. (Perhaps we're told his name, but if so I've forgotten it.) But I'm left profoundly satisfied at the end of it all, and eagerly await the next time someone prompts me to read Gaiman.