So remember Among Others? It was a fantasy author writing a fictionalized story of her childhood in Wales, with some magic added. So here’s Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane, which is… a fictionalized story of his childhood in England, with some magic added.

It’s not the same book, obviously, but it’s actually pretty close. In fact, it’s arguably closer than that description would lead you to believe. And so, as with Walton’s book, I find myself thinking this is a generally pretty decent book, but not worth some of the accolades I’ve seen thrown at it. I don’t know, maybe if I were Gaiman/Walton’s age, the books would resonate with me more, but as it is, I pretty much end up at “enjoyable, but slight.”


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