While I enjoyed Gaiman's American Gods, I found the meandering vignettes took me away from the chief narrative. Perhaps if the vignettes themselves had been removed from the novel and sold separately they'd have been more effective? This novelette, despite involving Shadow rather than some minor character, feels like one of these vignettes from American Gods, but reads even better. A story that Gaiman says is based on his own experiences making up an imaginary girlfriend whose name he doodled on a school book, “The Thing About Cassandra” follows the story of a young man named Stuart who essentially does the same. He writes down the name “Cassandra” and pretends she is real, all so his classmates will stop asking him when he’d get a girlfriend. Stuart really commits to the bit as well, making up dates with her, claiming he’s lost his virginity to her, and inventing a fake breakup when she’s supposedly forced to move to Canada with her family. It strikes me that Shadow being Baldur sort of makes sense in regard to how other charaters view him—outside of flat out antagonists, people just like Shadow. Most of them don’t even seem to know why. Wednesday needed to keep him out of the way in the novel because he attracted too much attention, but having him nearby was always good for the old con man when he had to interact with others. And that works with Baldur in mythology. He was just darn likable. Frigga got nearly every living thing on earth to weep for him when he died (and that also seems to work in regard to how women tend to reach out to him whenever he’s in danger). It just sort of works. Good Boys Deserve Favors" – inspired by a statue by Lisa Snellings-Clark of a man holding a double bass

It follows a new, little, adventure. A battle again not against a God, but against a monster. Not in the new world, but in the old one. Most of the stories in this book are reprints from other sources: magazines, anthologies, and even CD sleeves. According to Gaiman, “The Wedding Present” was originally meant to be a gift to some friends on the occasion of their marriage—or at least some version of the story that eventually became “The Wedding Present” was—but given its decidedly non -reassuring subject matter was eventually scrapped in favor of something more mundane and reception appropriate. But it’s got an all-time banger of an ending, of the sort that makes you lose your breath once you realize what it all actually means. Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders is a collection of short stories and poetry by English author Neil Gaiman. It was published in the US and UK in 2006 by HarperCollins and Headline Review. If you’ve read “Keepsakes and Treasures,” you’ll know that Smith probably qualifies as a monster, in the sense that he’s a cheerfully amoral killer with a penchant for pedophlia. Jennie might qualify, as a hulder, creatures who were blamed for causing madness and luring men to their doom. Certainly no one’s going to defend Gaskell against the charge (and why bother, since he seems to delight in calling himself a monster, repeatedly?) The party guests themselves become monstrous as they devolve into bloodlust and barbarity, but Smith’s reference to The Difficulty of Being at the end of the story also puts one in mind of Jean Cocteau’s use of the phrase “sacred monsters” to define celebrities, who he described as our modern stand-ins for Olympian deities: flawed, just like us, but richer, more attractive, more self-indulgent.Technically more of a novella than a short story, “The Monarch of the Glen” sees Gaiman return to the world of his bestselling novel American Gods and continue the tale of Shadow Moon. Shadow, having left America for Europe for reasons that are major spoilers for the ending of that book, is now touring around the wilds of northern Scotland when he meets a mysterious man who offers him a weekend job as a bouncer for a posh party. The guests and purpose of that party are, unsurprisingly, much more than they initially appear to be, leaving Shadow once again in the middle of a battle he never asked to be part of. I didn’t realise just how much I’d missed that voice, that character and world, until I was immersed in it once again. Gaiman’s writing has that sing-song quality I just can’t get enough of, and it is that element he’s mastered which sets him apart from other fantasists, from other writers. As a poet, it is the quality I prize above all else, the tide which guides my course: rhythm. He’s writing moves, and you with it. Naturally, there’s a whole lot more I could’ve said about this piece, and far more directly too, but as with the poems I recommend, I try to leave enough out that it isn’t spoiled for you. It’s been awhile since I’d read “The Monarch of the Glen,” and it’s interesting returning to it after spending so much time discussing American Gods, chapter by chapter. Even beyond the obvious links between the two (in terms of sharing the same world and the same protagonist), there’s just so much that’s familiar, here. There’s the eccentric, seemingly benign old man who turns out to be a child-killer (although Doctor Gaskell is a much nastier, more disturbing specimen than Hinzelmann was). There are the protective female characters who aid and defend Shadow in his hour of need (Jennie and Grendel’s Mother). As a potential romantic interest for Shadow, there’s even a bit of the old Laura dynamic in play: Laura and Shadow were star-crossed thanks to the pesky divide between the dead and the living, while Jennie, as a hulder, can only love a mortal man…and Shadow isn’t a mortal man.

If you haven't finished American Gods or you don't wanna know about the fate s of a certain character s, I'd say stop reading this. If you know how that story ends, then don't worry, it's a spoiler free review. Shadow – and by extension we – comes away from that encounter with an answer, or at least the outline of one. Why do I say that? Because much as it stands on its own, in as much as anything can when it takes place in a continuing world, this story is also a stepping stone. The full weight and meaning of the answer will be given the time and space it most assuredly needs in the next novel, the true sequel to American Gods. And it can’t come soon enough, as far as I’m concerned.

New in Series

It's probably worth mentioning that I have a weird history with Gaiman. I think of him as a very good writer but an incredibly disappointing one, as despite the incredible ambition in a few of his projects (American Gods, which I think was an excellent novel; and Sandman, which maybe wasn't good but aimed high, despite being sort of like a car that reved its engine for days and never left the parking lot) he's coasted for years on young adult novels that aren't bad exactly, but aren't special either; silly pastiches; twee rewrites of fairy tales that show up in overpriced boutique editions; and the occasional not very good screenplay. Many readers know Neil Gaiman for his novels ( American Gods, Stardust , Coraline ) and comics ( The Sandman ), which are, admittedly, all brilliant and well worth your time . (Go read them, is that what I’m saying.) But what you might not know is that Gaiman is also a prolific short story writer, and has churned out dozens upon dozens of tales that include fairytale retellings, contemporary horror stories, murder mysteries, and several additional tales from the worlds of his novels.