Tag Archives: American

“American Gods: The Moment of the Storm” by Neil Gaiman: Issue #4

I didn’t write about the last couple issues, not because they weren’t great (they were!), but because they didn’t include any quotes that I thought were worth looking at more closely. But this one certainly did.

Early in this issue, Shadow is entering the realm of the dead, after being sacrificed on the World Tree. He meets a cat woman, who seems to be some sort of spirit guide in the underworld. When Shadow inquires about her nature, her response is very intriguing.

Shadow: What are you? Who are you people?

Cat-woman: Think of us as symbols — we’re the dream humanity creates to make sense of the shadows on the cave wall.

This immediately made me think of Plato’s allegory of the cave from The Republic. Everything we perceive in this reality is but a shadow of a form that exists in another plane of existence. And we cannot comprehend the forms in their true essence, so we must approach them through the use of symbolism, which allows our subconscious mind fleeting glimpses of understanding, impressions of what thrives beyond our limited scope of awareness.

I know this is heavy stuff, and Gaiman’s work is very complex. But that said, he is a master storyteller, so he presents heady material within the structure of fun and imaginative tales.

That’s all I have to share for today. Thanks for stopping by.

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“American Gods: The Moment of the Storm” by Neil Gaiman: Issue #1

Starting to catch up on my backlog of reading. This arc is already on issue #4, so I’m a little behind, but that’s OK.

This new arc in the American Gods saga continues where “My Ainsel” left off, and is classic Gaiman, steeped in mythology. I only need one example to sum up the gist of this issue.

In the god business, it’s not death that matters, it’s the opportunity for resurrection.

The death of a god is required for the renewal of the cycle. Osiris, Jesus, Mithras, the list goes on. One need only refer back to Frazer to understand that this is a dominant trope in mythology.

Not much else to share on this. Thanks for stopping by, and keep reading cool stuff.

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A Quote from “American Gods: My Ainsel” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 09

Gods are great. But the heart is greater. From our hearts they come, and to our hearts they return…

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Thoughts on “American Gods: My Ainsel” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 03

There is a great section in this installment where Wednesday (who is actually the god Odin) tells Shadow about the mystical secrets and knowledge that he possesses.

“Nine nights I hung on a bare tree, my side pierced with a spear’s point. I swayed and blew in the cold winds and the hot winds, a sacrifice of myself, to myself, and the worlds opened to me. These are the charms I learned.

“I know a charm that can heal with a touch. I know a charm that can take warriors through the tumult unscathed and unhurt. I know a charm to free myself from all bonds and locks. I can quench fire simply by looking at it. I can sing the storm to sleep for long enough to bring a ship to shore. I learned to dispel witches, to spin them around in the skies so that they will never find their way back to their own doors again. I know a charm that can turn aside the weapons of an enemy.”

Wednesday spoke as if he were reciting the words of a religious ritual.

“I can make people believe in my dreams. I know the names of all the gods. And I know the greatest charm of all, and that charm I can tell to no man. For a secret that no one knows but you is the most powerful charm of all.”

I generally operate on the principle that secrets tend to be unhealthy, that one is only as sick as one’s secrets. But I do not think that this is the type of secret that Gaiman is referring to. I feel that he is trying to convey that the most powerful truths are those that are hidden the deepest, which no individual can access except via the portal of myth and symbolism. Spiritual secrets are not secret because no one is willing to share the knowledge; they are secret because only certain individuals have to ability to grasp the meaning buried deep within the symbol or myth. The ability to understand the metaphysical secrets accessible to the human psyche only through symbolism is the wellspring of true wisdom and power. And that the most hidden of truths, the secret only known to the one or the few, that is the most powerful of spiritual truths, and hence the most coveted.

Thanks for stopping by, and never stop seeking.

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Thoughts on “American Gods: My Ainsel” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 01

This series has been on a long hiatus, but is finally back. While the artwork is not the best, the writing and the storyline are both excellent. But then again, I have not read anything by Neil Gaiman that I did not like.

There are a couple passages in this issue that are worth mentioning.

The really dangerous people believe that they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is without question the right thing to do.

I agree 100%. The pages of history are filled with stories of self-righteous fanatics who committed heinous acts because they were somehow convinced that they were doing the right thing. And this continues to this day. Any social or political issue that is contentious will have people convinced that they are on the right side of the argument, and will use that belief to justify their behaviors and actions.

There’s our bookstore. What I say is, a town isn’t a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it’s got a bookstore, it knows it’s not foolin’ a soul.

I am grateful that I live in a city that boasts several very good bookstores, and I try to support them as much as my finances allow. But just knowing they are there, being able to go in, peruse the aisles, get a coffee, is important to me. There is just something about a bookstore that fosters a connection, for me anyway. I feel that when I am in a bookstore, I am surrounded by kindred spirits.

Anyway, not much more to share about this. Hope you have an inspiring day, and get thee to your local bookstore soon.

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Thoughts on “American Gods” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 09

In this issue, Shadow finishes his work at the funeral home of Jacquel and Ibis, who are representations of the Egyptian gods Anubis and Thoth, respectively. The installment contains some brilliant reflections on death that are worth contemplating.

Shadow drove carefully down the street. It seemed right to go slow in a hearse, although he could barely remember the last time he had seen a hearse on the street. Death had vanished from the streets of America, thought Shadow. Now it happened in hospital rooms and ambulances.

People in modern society are terrified of their mortality, so the tendency is to shield the public from what is a natural part of every life. The terminally ill are usually sent off to hospital rooms to die, or if they are lucky, spend their last days in hospice. To face a dying person is to stare into the mirror of your own mortality, and I sense that a lot of people don’t want to do that. They want to stumble or charge through life, oblivious of what is coming nearer with each passing moment. Personally, I feel that there is something very spiritual about reflecting on your own death. It makes you realize just how precious each moment is. In fact, I recently read about some Eastern traditions where monks spend time meditating while gazing upon the body of a dead person. I can only imagine the profound impact that must have on an individual.

The issue concludes with another great passage describing Shadow’s exit from the house of the dead.

Shadow realized it had only been a temporary reprieve, his time in the house of the dead; and already it was beginning to feel like something that happened to somebody else, a long time ago.

What I like about this short passage is that it succinctly expresses that death is only a very brief moment, essentially a portal into another level of being. Our consciousness does not linger in the house of the dead. It is quickly prepared and then sent on its way, and all that is left is the vague impression of that fleeting moment in the long journey of the soul.

Thanks for stopping by and sharing in my musings. Have an inspired day.

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Thoughts on “A Late Walk” by Robert Frost

Vincent Van Gogh

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

In this poem, Frost uses autumn as a symbol for impending death. It appears that someone close to him is nearing the end of his or her life, and this imminent death is cause for Frost to reflect on his own mortality.

In addition to the ABCB rhyming scheme, Frost incorporates alliteration, which works nicely. The phrases “garden ground,” “withered weeds,” “leaf that lingered,” and “disturbed, I doubt not” instill a somber musicality to the poem that evokes a feeling of inner reflection.

I have often walked alone in the fall, smelling the dead leaves and listening to the wind rustling the bare branches of trees. At these times, I am very aware of the fragility of life, along with the promise of spring and rebirth.

It is the promise of rebirth that offers a ray of hope in this otherwise sad poem. Frost uses the aster flower as a symbol for spring and rebirth. Death is just part of the cycle of life, but the cycle continues and from death comes new growth.

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