God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you – even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition.
How does an author con the reader without poisoning the reading experience? In a book where so many cons are described in detail, and so many magic tricks are demystified, the best is Neil Gaiman masking American Gods for 90% of the book as a grand clash of civilizations and ideologies before really exposing it as nothing but the selfish quest for power by a few individuals. And these are no mere individuals – but gods. A vareigated bunch – Norse, Slav, Egyptian, Hindu – called into godless America to protect those who just dropped anchor on these alien shores, they are dying. For people have new gods – media, technology – and no longer need to believe in them. For some these drastic times call for drastic measures.
American Gods is also Neil Gaiman’s ode to the USA. Not the USA of Wall Street denizens or the Hollywood population. And definitely not the USA of big technology, bigger media and biggest retail. Gaiman’s narrative takes us through the heart of US – to towns whose populations are lesser than the number of people in Empire state building. It is the US of roadside motels and the highway attractions, of local communities, local issues and local pride. It’s an USA resigned to losing its way of life to chain stores and mass produced commodities. And the protagonist, Shadow, has all that is good about America – punctilious, hardworking, simple – and yet much like a Greek hero is fated to suffer (reminds anyone of Forrest Gump?).
It’s not easy to bucket American Gods. In parts it is a road trip, a retelling of traditional mythologies and an exploration of the American psyche. In Neil Gaiman’s own words he wrote a “big and odd and meandering” book. At 600 plus pages it is definitely big. With a litany of characters and multiple plot lines it is meandering. And the fact that a majority of characters are gods makes the everyday normal look odd. But American Gods goes beyond these adjectives. It is also a study of avarice and gratitude, of trust and betrayal, of revenge and forgiveness – for even gods in their follies and greatness are human.
