The Ocean at the End of the Lane

I just finished reading Neil Gaiman’s book, The Ocean at the End of the Lane. It was suggested to me over a month ago by my friend Mark. But I had to wait a month until one of our library’s copies was available. It happened to come available during this two-week period that I’ve been taking off from work, so the timing worked out well.

I don’t believe I’ve ever read anything by Neil Gaiman before, but I enjoyed his work. His writing in this book reminds me of a cross between Madeleine L’Engel, C.S. Lewis, and Stephen King (as strange as that combination may sound). The book probably belongs in the category of “Fantasy,” but the story straddles the line between contemporary settings and fantastical settings. And it actually ends up coming across almost like a memoir. It’s a very unusual sort of story — but it definitely kept my interest.

I honestly don’t know how to set up or summarize the story — except to say that it’s about a friendship that crosses many planes of existence. It cuts across time and space and gender and worlds, but it ends up being a story of sacrifice and coming of age.

I don’t know if I found any deep sense of personal identification or profound meaning from the story (though it seems like those things were there, under the surface, just out of my reach). I just wanted to record my quick impressions and acknowledge that it was an intriguing book.

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