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Anansi Boys
Sun Jan 31 20:12:09 GMT 2010
To some extent, my dedication to the works of Neil Gaiman started with the terrific Good Omens, which I read more times than I care to remember whilst growing up. The partnership of Pratchett's dry humour with Gaiman's characteristic dark flourishes made for a heady mix. The real infatuation set in somewhat later, when having been hooked on the TV serialisation of Neverwhere I proceeded to read the subsequent reworking of the series as a novel, and the book sealed the deal. I became a die-hard Gaiman fan, revelling in the masterly way he can transform an entirely fantastic story into something completely believable, the genuinely chilling monsters he devises, and the dark wit he uses to sometimes devastating effect.
With this background it is something of a disappointment to consider Anansi Boys, a novel which, despite my best efforts, I cannot love. Inevitably, and entirely unfairly, I have ended up comparing it to American Gods, since the subject matter is somewhat the same, and the character of Anansi himself is taken from the cast of American Gods. The similarities end there, however, for the subjects that so beguile in the dark, gritty environs of American Gods fail to take hold in the much lighter, comedy-driven narrative of Anansi Boys. The little snippets of mythology that wrap and weave into the fabric of American Gods tend to sit alone and isolated on the smooth plane of Anansi Boys. Where the text of American Gods flows like a river, Anansi Boys' prose clunks and crunches, too-clever puns littered around like so much sugar on top of a bowl of bland strawberries.
As I've already noted, this comparison is unfair. Anansi Boys isn't a sequel to American Gods, and it deserves to be considered on its own merits. The central coming-of-age story, and the examination of the relationship between a father and a son, are both well crafted and effective; and the novel is not without its genuine comedy moments; but these things on their own don't save it. Even some of the central characters are poorly sketched, the aforementioned puns are little more than a distraction, and the attempt to meld a general comedic tone with a very dark antagonist serves to mar the comedy at the same time as making the adversary mildly ridiculous.
On the whole, Anansi Boys feels to me like a novel that is half-baked, incompletely realised. I would be loath to call it downright bad, and certainly I have read many worse, but it doesn't live up to the expectations that the rest of Gaiman's canon encourages.