American Gods is a book that I wanted to like, and did for a while, until it fell apart in the end. I honestly couldn’t understand the fascination. It is a messy book, full of loose symbolism and characters who are supposed to be colourful and interesting on paper, but I care less and less about the longer I read the book. It should be the other way around no?
The Shadow of a vagabond
Shadow, a convict, was released early due to the death of his wife, who we later learn, died giving a blowie in the car to his boss who also died from the same accident. He was quickly recruited randomly by a stranger in the plane who just kept following him around, even after he left a transit airport, got on a hired car and rode to the middle of nowhere. He learns that there are inhuman forces that has long been in the land even before America itself, and that these forces are under threat by the new gods — the media and technology.
With his new employer, Wednesday, Shadow traveled around America to meet the old gods, to ask for their help on an impending storm. In the meantime, he had also become a target so that he needs to take refuge in an idyllic town called Lakeside where he quickly befriended the eccentric local video store owner and the good-natured policeman. A war is seething in the background, under everybody’s nose, and somehow Shadow is stuck in the middle.
American Gods is as flimsy as the American Dream
I would say that Gaiman writes as well Stephen King, take it as you may. His prose is clean, easy to read and a bit dry. But I think the main flaw of the book is in its characterisation. Shadow, our main character is supposed to be a hulking but soft-hearted giant, but like the rest of the character, I really couldn’t give a shit about him in the end even though I wanted to like him. I could not pin down why, aside from the fact that he felt run of the mill type of protagonist, like a Jack Reacher type of action hero.
And I thought the concepts of the gods themselves were too contrived to the point that I’m too aware of the fiction in the book, and that takes you out of the book. This is especially true with the new gods, who were too opaque — Technical Boy, what the fuck is with that guy? I guess he’s a dotcom millionaire who’s also a nerd, but so does that mean Americans are praising anything technical. The old gods fare no better — they are recycled portrayals of old symbols in washed up bodies. It just leads me asking more questions about the characterisations and the concepts of the gods, and the premise falls apart quickly the deeper you dig into it.
Those who migrate to America also brought with them their beliefs — their gods. These gods only exist as much as the people believe in them, and will grow weaker and irrelevant as the belief in them diminish. They are still around somewhat, but has become outcasts in society. The new gods of media and technology are all the hype and they’re getting stronger by the minute. It is the tale of the old versus new in America, but it is a battle that had always been fought from the beginning.
What I like best about the book is the portrayal of the American rural desolation — the kitsch museums, the long and endless roads, the dirty bars, late diners with surprisingly hearty food, the hillbilly characters (mortal or not) and the sense of longing that something is just not right. The book is supposed to be a meditation of America, but the symbolism is weak.
I finished the book within a week even though it clocks in at 650 odd pages — so it is not a hard book to digest until you go to the ending and you’re trying to work out who’s sleeping with who. But by that point in time, I lost all interest in the book and was looking forward to my next read.
