Archive for the ‘A Bastard’s Review’ Category

There’s going to be a war. This war is going to be fucking awesome. It’s going to decide the fate of the world and the gods that inhabit it. It’s going to be fucking choice! Blood, piss, guts, death raining down from above in splatters of matter and bone fragments. Never in the history of time, space, and everything has there been a battle like this. Not only that, there’ s a fucking mystery that needs to be solved too. This guy, Shadow, who just got out of prison, but it’s OK because he’s really a nice guy, is going to find out he’s the badest motherfucker in the world. Sure his wife died blowing his best friend, and her walking corpse is following his every motion, but that’s only adding to the fucking mystery, right?

For those of you whom may have read the book may know where I’m going to go with this.

Nothing happens.


Nothing at all.

Many will probably say something like, “but the characters are so rich and intricate!” To which I wholeheartedly agree. I’ll also respond with a “So what?” If an entire book is building up to this promise of hell on earth and death and destruction to decide the fate of the gods, it better have a damn good reason on not delivering on it. I understand that the gods, having become twisted from their original incarnations, were only seeking the war for their own selfish means, which could come from the desperation of being in a nation that has become so ethnically mixed that no god can claim power or dominance without destroying the rest, and/or could even be understood as the constant tension that lies within the nation itself. But, don’t be a dick tease with the blood and death.

I’m told that HBO has greenlit an adaptation of American Gods into a series ala True Blood and Game of Thrones. My only hope is that the first season doesn’t climax with Shadow eating a Pastie in a small town in the Central Midwest.

If I want to read a book with beautiful prose where nothing really happens, I’ll read some Cormac McCarthy. See, I loooveeee McCarthy, but I expect him to describe in minute detail every plate full of beans that his protagonists eat or cup of coffee that they drink. And I’m fine with that. I could listen to him illiterate beans, tortillas, and coffee in a myriad of settings. But Cormac doesn’t promise a war to end all wars. If anything, he down plays what’s going to happen, making it all the more shocking when it finally does.

All of this being said, I can’t say that American Gods sucks. It doesn’t. All of the characters are interesting and amazingly well-developed. There are plenty of notes of Neil Gaiman’s wonderous wordplay. The concept of Gods walking amongst us in a sort of melting pot of lost deities trying to find their place in the world is both exciting and carefully crafted, even if the main character is kind of a dud – I mean, the guy finds out he’s the son of a god and the coolest thing he can manage to do is ride a fucking bird.

American Gods is a beautifully written, intricately plotted novel with amazingly well developed characters. But it is also really fucking boring.


I was expecting this….







And I got this…


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