Neverwhere, Neil Gaiman

I begin each release from Neil Gaiman with great optimism. The premises are invariably inventive (in American Gods, for example, all the polytheistic gods are extant, coexisting, and fighting for the attention of the modern world). However, the results never live up to the promise, it seems.

Neverwehere is set in London Below, a sort of extended pun on the London Underground, and many of the settings and characters are literalizations of the fantastic names that apparently caught Gaiman's attention, even when we was a child. Knightsbridge. Blackfriars. Barons Court. Angel. Burnt Oak. Elephant & Castle. To say nothing of Cockfosters.

Here, Angel is the home of an angel. Earls Court is the home of an aging earl. But really, once we are in on the conceit, it is rather unimaginative from there. Blackfriars is home not to the black robe wearing Dominican friars, but to "Black" friars, as in friars of African descent.

The imagery is awash with steampunk and goth flair that make it at once quite easy to visualize the characters but also somewhat dull to do so. Perhaps in part (though only in part) because of its derivative and currently fashionable visuals, the novel feels rather like the film-from-the-bestselling-novel, rather than the more rich source material it ought be. Put Johnny Depp in the role of erstwhile (but hapless) hero Richard and let Tim Burton direct, and you have the film version, made to order.

The only real question that lingered with me as I read was, "Will I get suckered in yet again, and buy his next novel, too?"