I did not plan on reviewing this book, as it is by Neil Gaiman and shall most likely attract a lot of positivity from his legions of fans- as one of them I believed that I had nothing to say that could change the minds of those who had either decided they would love it or loathe it based on their preconceptions of the author. I had not, however, expected this book to be so personal.
I first discovered Gaiman about a week before my 11th birthday. I had spent 6 months of my tenth year struggling through Mort by Terry Pratchett, having decided that I had read as many childrens books as I ever could and asking a friends older brother for a recommendation. 5 months were the initial slog (obviously I had school and being a child taking up a lot of my time.... as well as at least one soul destroying family holiday to a battered old caravan in Camber Sands) then once I had become accustomed to the writing style I re-read to absorb the story. The librarian was somewhat surprised that I was finally returning Mort and not renewing it yet again, and told me they had a new one in from the same author. I was sceptical when I saw it, as it said Neil Gaiman at the top and Terry Pratchett at the bottom- was it two stories? I took it anyway, along with a book my Mother had recommended I try called The HitchHikers Guide To The Galaxy.
That was my last real summer as a child- the long yet far too short six weeks between primary and secondary school, and though I didn't know it at the time it was also the last summer I would be able to go away to my Grandparents for a week at my own request without having to explain myself to some 'friend' or another. Younger kids just accept that "see you in a week I am going to my grandparents" is a statement that should be met with "ok, bye" and not "why? That is so sad. I only see mine when I want something. Hope you enjoy ruining our football tournament. Loser" (maybe I just chose the wrong friends). So I happily went to my Grandparents in rural Oxfordshire and spent a week with my brother exploring and re-exploring all the local fields and woods by day and reading Good Omens every evening.
The last time I had been there I had been dipping in to what we knew as 'Granny's bag of kids books'- a truly amazing selection of literature gained from her life working as a nursery nurse in the 40s, with some from her own childhood and some of my Mothers old books thrown in for good measure. There was a lot of Enid Blyton and Richmal Crompton, and plenty of 'young person defies all odds to defeat smugglers/ nazis/ corrupt policemen and all they ask for is a pat on the back and a big dinner' style kids adventures that were my literary bread and butter for a good 3 years. She was visibly a little disappointed that I had my own book to get through but stuck a couple of battered old Doctor Doolittle books on the bedside shelf for when I had finished, which is the kind of encouragement I needed to finish quickly- nobody wants to disappoint their Nan! It was only at the age of 26 at her funeral that I realised my Grandmother had always had different books at the top of the bag every time I went, and they had always matched my reading ability at the time- plus one I could read quickly (a secret seven, a Bunter, a William) and one that pushed me a bit (Animal Farm, My Family and Other Animals) but I could handle. For this, I truly am eternally grateful...
Good Omens was a firm favourite of mine- as soon as I got to the end of it I started again. The style is unique, as a long term fan of both authors it still feels.. well, different. Sure there are one or two passages heavily saturated with one authors fingerprints or another, but largely it is written in a way that neither would usually write (there are passages in Pratchett's Reaper Man that feel a bit Good Omens-esque, likewise small sections of Neverwhere do the same) Good Omens was, as the pair have stated, written by a beast called TerryandNeil and they themselves struggle to figure out who wrote what. I believe this makes it almost better than the sum of its parts and the book can hold it's own against any of either authors works prior or post. Every time I re-read Good Omens it takes me back to that summer, so I save it for when I yearn to feel the slightly painful twang of nostalgic melancholia (very few books transport me through my life in the way sounds and images do, but the passages of The Them always manage it).
And all of that is what makes The Ocean at The End of The Lane such a lovely and personal read. The first thing I noticed, other than how short it is for the price couldn't they knock a few quid off jeez this is how much I paid for American Gods and that is at least 5 times big..... etc was that it feels like Good Omens. Exactly 20 years since that swansong to childhood I found myself reading a book with the same texture. It could be that it feels similar as it focuses on children living in England in a period of time that was still just graspable at the beginning of my own life- if you knew where to look, or it could be that it is one of rare Neil Gaiman works that doesn't feel like Doctor Who from a companions perspective (person A Shadow, Charlie, Richard encounters mysterious all knowing person B Wednesday, Spider, De Carabas who is completely unphased by any of the mysterious supernatural activity they experience and always knows more than they are letting on. Quite possibly using person A to their own advantage, and though manipulative and dangerous will either save the day or help person A save the day in the end. Will probably die and come back to life... there are more examples than the three listed but they are the ones I have re-read most recently). Either way, Ocean feels almost like a companion piece to Omens- a story forged from nothing but memory rather than a story created through research. All set within a small few mile radius of somewhere that feels very dear to the authors heart (I was relieved to find in the afterword that I was correct in this assumption).
It also has the feel of a book I would have read as a child, albeit with a more mature writing style. It is almost a love letter to all of those childrens adventures from the first half of the 20th century- those Blyton style romps in which children pit themselves against forces more deadly and powerful than themselves and somehow come through it triumphant. There are references to those books throughout, during the protagonists darkest period Gaiman fits in a lovely running joke about the books he reads ("she had defeated the Nazis because she didn't want to leave her pony behind" being the plot of one of them), and in mentioning these old books it distracts from the fact that Ocean is a bit like one. The protagonist obsesses over food, so much like the famous five books would suddenly go into a lengthy description of a picnic, Ocean lingers on custard and spotted dick and loves simple home cooked foods like only a 7 year old could.
It is a short book. Very short. I read it in one go, which says both how short it is and how gripping. I always feel cheated if I finish a book within the first day of owning it, and this was no exception so I am going to justify the price of it thusly....
I paid £8 approximately for a digital version of the book, it took about 2 hours to get through it (give or take, I was waiting for an excitable one year old to stop dancing and get to sleep as I read it). If I had gone to the cinema I would have spent a pound more on something that lasted the same amount of time and I would not have enjoyed it as I hate the cinema. Had I spent that money on music I would have swiftly remembered that I am jaded to music and hate anything outside of my own niche tastes. What I got for my money was 2 hours of pure joy, a passageway to a tiny forgotten area of my past via somebody elses in which a person meets another more mysterious person, who gets them imbroiled in some supernatural event that only they can stop and hang on this is Doctor Who again, isn't it?
