‘Twas the month before Christmas
‘Twas the month before Christmas and all through the city,
Not a creature was stirring, er, you find a rhyme…
I’m just not that witty.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
Oops, don’t have a chimney, hmmm…
Oh well, Santa’s magic, who cares?
The people were nestled all snug in their beds,
(your business what you’re doing there)
While visions of shopping malls danced
in their wallets and heads.
I in my Soft Kitty PJs and the cat in the hat
Had just settled down to read,
maybe eat some cookies…
How about that?
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed (ok, sprang is an exaggeration),
To see what was the matter.
It was only a drunk guy,
With his nose all aglow,
Shouting and singing,
Let it go, let it snow, let it go…
The moral of this story is plain to see
Please don’t sing outside my house
At Christmas or any other time,
Even on key…
I’d like to crawl inside Neil Gaiman’s head, just briefly, although I imagine it’s intense. I’d also like to do a Vulcan mind meld on some people, yet where would that lead, aside from the hollow paths of: interesting, boring, extreme, creepy? You’d still just be a visitor.
Gaiman has a remarkable ability to plop you inside his stories and against your better judgement you decide to stay to see how it ends.
The Ocean At The End Of The Lane is no exception. Like a worm that gets inside you, a feeling that scuttles through you, a scratching in the dark, this story and it’s inhabitants don’t give you answers, just a sensation of contentment and fear and something else you know you probably shouldn’t identify just yet, if ever.
As with all Gaiman’s work this ingeniously focuses on the imbalance of power, between adults and children, men and women, good and evil, right and wrong, man and nature, even between worlds.
I’ve already learned the most significant things I’ll ever learn in my entire life, I think, and Gaiman’s works always reinforce these, for me.
What we know is not nearly as important as what we don’t know.
We don’t need to know everything.
But what if we do?
Love is magic. In a way it is. People caring about other people so much they will sometimes put their happiness, even their lives above their own, that is magical.
Sarah Michelle Gellar shows her softer side as lonely chef who can’t cook until her emotions start pouring into her food (similar to the movie, Like Water For Chocolate).
Sean Patrick Flanery (apparently you had to have 3 names to be the star in this movie) is the suave, yet emotionally disconnected businessman who can’t resist love’s magic, but tries really hard.
Patricia Clarkson as Flanery’s quirky assistant is hilariously divine.
Interesting cast, lots of familiar fictional characters with some not-so-familiar stories, mixture of modern and old world…
I love a good fairy tale. The endless wrangle of good v. evil, all mysteriously cloaked in morals and lessons galore and this series fits the bill to a once upon a T.
But maybe slow down with the actual fairies.