The world is made of stories.
We tell stories, we hear stories, we believe stories.
Or not.
Our reality is created by the stories we tell, or the stories we choose to accept as real.
There is no reality outside our stories. There are only the stories.
I don’t usually buy this sort of crap. Native American stories about birds and coyotes and other critters that scurry about in the shadows usually leave me cold.
But Neil Gaiman’s book “The Anansi Boys” , based on animal mythology, is a whole different deal.
It has a different twist that makes what are essentially traditional animal teaching stories interesting and meaningful. What makes his writing so outstanding is that he has great characters, imaginative plot, and quirky humor.
I love quirky humor.
If you are already a Neal Gaiman fan you are going to love “The Anansi Boys”.
If you’re not a Neil Gaiman fan, and read the book, you are probably going to become one, or think the book is stupid.
Which way that goes says something about you, but I’m exactly not sure what.