During a visit to the area
where he grew up (for a family funeral), our narrator is drawn back to his
old stomping ground where he re-experiences a childhood summer living up
the lane from Hempstock Farm, Old Mrs Hempstock, her daughter and her
granddaughter, Lettie.
The year he met Lettie, Ursula Monkton, and death for the first time, was full of the weird and wonderful, scary and sad, from the opal miner who had recently taken lodgings in his bedroom (meaning he had to share with his sister), killing himself in his parent's car, to a spirit giving out money (which seemed to be the only thing that made humans happy), to Old Mrs Hempstock and her daughter, cooking the most amazing pies, breads, soups and cakes which were so well described I could almost smell them on the page.
Lettie (who appears to be just a few years older than our narrator but has lived a thousand years many times over, has a pond in her garden that she calls an ocean [which, with the assistance of Old Mrs Hempstock, manages to transfer to a bucket later in the story], as well as curling cat tails protruding from the grass which, if you give them a firm enough tug, pull up kittens), takes our narrator with her when she goes to bind the money giving spirit and send it back to its own realm.
When our narrator gets scared and lets go of Lettie’s hand whilst she’s binding the spirit, a worm lodges itself into his foot and, although he manages to get most of it out (in a superbly written but rather gruesome episode in the bathroom), just enough remains, which forms a connection between realms which allows the spirit (Ursula Monkton) to stay, with dire consequences.
As Ursula gets bolder and more powerful, Old Mrs Hempstock has to summons the hunger birds. As the rain lashes and the winds howl, the hunger birds devour the spirit and you think everything is rebalanced but the birds need the tiny piece of worm (Ursula) that’s still inside our narrator, which has worked its way from his foot to his heart. In spite of Old Mrs Hempstock's attempts to banishes the hunger birds, she only succeeds after Lettie makes the ultimate sacrifice to save her friend and so, with deep sadness, she is laid to rest for a while in the ocean - which is back in its rightful place - with the promise that she may return one day.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a mix of fear, loss, loneliness and bitter memories of a time gone by, which Gaiman manages to weave into a tale that can be enjoyed by all. There's fantasy, magic, good and evil, all expertly mixed with a reality that bend the rules, and it’s a rollercoaster of love, wonder and amazement with a cold chill running down your neck, accompanied by the most beautifully threatening illustrations and, like the best books, takes you on a journey that is difficult to forget.
Four Stars for, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, then; the book that has hopefully, got me blogging again.
The year he met Lettie, Ursula Monkton, and death for the first time, was full of the weird and wonderful, scary and sad, from the opal miner who had recently taken lodgings in his bedroom (meaning he had to share with his sister), killing himself in his parent's car, to a spirit giving out money (which seemed to be the only thing that made humans happy), to Old Mrs Hempstock and her daughter, cooking the most amazing pies, breads, soups and cakes which were so well described I could almost smell them on the page.
Lettie (who appears to be just a few years older than our narrator but has lived a thousand years many times over, has a pond in her garden that she calls an ocean [which, with the assistance of Old Mrs Hempstock, manages to transfer to a bucket later in the story], as well as curling cat tails protruding from the grass which, if you give them a firm enough tug, pull up kittens), takes our narrator with her when she goes to bind the money giving spirit and send it back to its own realm.
When our narrator gets scared and lets go of Lettie’s hand whilst she’s binding the spirit, a worm lodges itself into his foot and, although he manages to get most of it out (in a superbly written but rather gruesome episode in the bathroom), just enough remains, which forms a connection between realms which allows the spirit (Ursula Monkton) to stay, with dire consequences.
As Ursula gets bolder and more powerful, Old Mrs Hempstock has to summons the hunger birds. As the rain lashes and the winds howl, the hunger birds devour the spirit and you think everything is rebalanced but the birds need the tiny piece of worm (Ursula) that’s still inside our narrator, which has worked its way from his foot to his heart. In spite of Old Mrs Hempstock's attempts to banishes the hunger birds, she only succeeds after Lettie makes the ultimate sacrifice to save her friend and so, with deep sadness, she is laid to rest for a while in the ocean - which is back in its rightful place - with the promise that she may return one day.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a mix of fear, loss, loneliness and bitter memories of a time gone by, which Gaiman manages to weave into a tale that can be enjoyed by all. There's fantasy, magic, good and evil, all expertly mixed with a reality that bend the rules, and it’s a rollercoaster of love, wonder and amazement with a cold chill running down your neck, accompanied by the most beautifully threatening illustrations and, like the best books, takes you on a journey that is difficult to forget.
Four Stars for, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, then; the book that has hopefully, got me blogging again.
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