Hardcover, 224 pages
Published July 30, 2013 by William Morrow.
A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.
Forty years earlier, a man committed suicide in a stolen car at this farm at the end of the road. Like a fuse on a firework, his death lit a touchpaper and resonated in unimaginable ways. The darkness was unleashed, something scary and thoroughly …
A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.
Forty years earlier, a man committed suicide in a stolen car at this farm at the end of the road. Like a fuse on a firework, his death lit a touchpaper and resonated in unimaginable ways. The darkness was unleashed, something scary and thoroughly incomprehensible to a little boy. And Lettie—magical, comforting, wise beyond her years—promised to protect him, no matter what.
A groundbreaking work from a master, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is told with a rare understanding of all that makes us human, and shows the power of stories to reveal and shelter us from the darkness inside and out. It is a stirring, terrifying, and elegiac fable as delicate as a butterfly's wing and as menacing as a knife in the dark.
A truly charming tale that kept me intrigued the entire time. Though a child of the 70s as opposed to the 60s I still saw enough in the joy of my childhood in Neil's world that the world touched my soul in wonderful ways.
This was like reading Neverwhere again. Except the main character is a child not 30ish. And I'm 30 odd, not a child.
It pretty much hits all the beats of Gaiman story, but here the structure creaks and groans. He mixes Coraline with Neverwhere, with American Gods, all the elements are there, and none of them feel original, or interesting. The quirky mystery of the Hempstocks was just annoying rather than alluring.
The main character has no agency, he just gets thrown from event to event, and his big heroic moment has him literally sitting still for hours.
No, I didn't like this at all. It's so bad that it may have tainted the earlier, better Gaiman stories, and that makes me kinda sad...
