I love the fantastic.
Do you know what I mean?
The inbetween.
The stories that leave you with chills running up your spine.
Not scary stories.
Not horror stories.
But the ones that are a bit spooky.
The ones where the line is blurred between reality and fantasy.
Where you can't quite tell if what is happening is supposed to be real or pretend.
I once took a lovely class on Fantastic Literature where we read the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Oscar Wilde, E.T.A. Hoffman, and Villiers de I'Isles Adams.
We mainly read older books, because the Fantastic is more a genre that had it's glory day in the 1800s.
I all but thought it had died.
Or that in the days of Prozac and psychiatrists that there were no more tortured souls to write my favorite kinds of stories.
But the other day I got a book from the library full of short stories by Neil Gaiman.
{Not that he is tortured, but simply that he has that bit of madness that knows how to weave a tale.}
I can't even begin to tell you how much I love Neil Gaiman.
I think he is my favorite author.
Have you seen Stardust?
He wrote the book.
That one is definitely a faerie tale.
But some of the stories in Smoke and Mirrors are not.
They are of the fantastic genre.
I was reading one last night before bed
{foolishly thinking that because they were short stories, I could stop at one. Right? Wrong.}
and it was deliciously spooky.
I was left with the delightful feeling that made me nervous to turn off the light, for then I should have to return to my bed in the dark.
And who knows what would be under there.
I am 21 years old.
I know that there is nothing under my bed but boxes of winter clothes.
But I was still afraid.
And a story that could disrupt my reality and proper way of thinking?
Now that is a story written by a genius.
And most definitely a story that I love.
Do you know what I mean?
The inbetween.
The stories that leave you with chills running up your spine.
Not scary stories.
Not horror stories.
But the ones that are a bit spooky.
The ones where the line is blurred between reality and fantasy.
Where you can't quite tell if what is happening is supposed to be real or pretend.
I once took a lovely class on Fantastic Literature where we read the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Oscar Wilde, E.T.A. Hoffman, and Villiers de I'Isles Adams.
We mainly read older books, because the Fantastic is more a genre that had it's glory day in the 1800s.
I all but thought it had died.
Or that in the days of Prozac and psychiatrists that there were no more tortured souls to write my favorite kinds of stories.
But the other day I got a book from the library full of short stories by Neil Gaiman.
{Not that he is tortured, but simply that he has that bit of madness that knows how to weave a tale.}
I can't even begin to tell you how much I love Neil Gaiman.
I think he is my favorite author.
Have you seen Stardust?
He wrote the book.
That one is definitely a faerie tale.
But some of the stories in Smoke and Mirrors are not.
They are of the fantastic genre.
I was reading one last night before bed
{foolishly thinking that because they were short stories, I could stop at one. Right? Wrong.}
and it was deliciously spooky.
I was left with the delightful feeling that made me nervous to turn off the light, for then I should have to return to my bed in the dark.
And who knows what would be under there.
I am 21 years old.
I know that there is nothing under my bed but boxes of winter clothes.
But I was still afraid.
And a story that could disrupt my reality and proper way of thinking?
Now that is a story written by a genius.
And most definitely a story that I love.
Stories by Neil Gaiman that I recommend:
Chivalry {not fantastic, but lovely all the same.}
Nicholas Was... {Mom, don't read this one. You won't like it.}
The Price {possibly the best one, because it has my favorite kind of cat.}
Don't Ask Jack The White Road
If you like Neil Gaiman, you need to read Neverwhere. I LOVED that book. I haven't read it since high school, but I remember liking it more than Stardust (and I liked that one a lot!).
ReplyDelete