American Gods

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Harper Collins, Apr 30, 2002 - Fiction - 624 pages
347 Reviews

Shadow is a man with a past. But now he wants nothing more than to live a quiet life with his wife and stay out of trouble. Until he learns that she's been killed in a terrible accident.

Flying home for the funeral, as a violent storm rocks the plane, a strange man in the seat next to him introduces himself. The man calls himself Mr. Wednesday, and he knows more about Shadow than is possible.

He warns Shadow that a far bigger storm is coming. And from that moment on, nothing will ever he the same...


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It's a great piece of storytelling. - LibraryThing
Not easy to read, with a poor narrative pa e @ times. - LibraryThing
Also, the writing is fantastic. - LibraryThing
The book goes at it's own pace but is never dull. - LibraryThing
Gaiman's writing is beautiful. - LibraryThing
I did find the premise of the book to be original. - LibraryThing

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - barlow304 - LibraryThing

A long, striking novel about America and its gods. Whether they are ancient Nordic or African, brought here by immigrants and slaves, or modern, like the Media, the gods of America are troubled at the ... Read full review

Review: American Gods (American Gods #1)

User Review  - Bookworm Sean - Goodreads

Do you ever read a book and become completely lost in the words and, ultimately, wonder what is actually happening? Well, I do. So, I go back and read the bits I may not have picked up or accidently ... Read full review

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Page 446 - TURNING and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
Page 4 - Why, sir, on the north we are bounded by the Aurora Borealis, on the east we are bounded by the rising sun, on the south we are bounded by the procession [sic] of the Equinoxes and on the west by the Day of Judgment.
Page 130 - Wide open and unguarded stand our gates, And through them presses a wild motley throng — Men from the Volga and the Tartar steppes, Featureless figures of the Hoang-Ho, Malayan, Scythian, Teuton, Kelt, and Slav, Flying the Old World's poverty and scorn; These bringing with them unknown gods and rites, Those, tiger passions, here to stretch their claws. In street and alley what strange tongues are loud, Accents of menace alien to our air, Voices that once the Tower of Babel knew! O Liberty, white...
Page 103 - Madam Life's a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She's the tenant of the room, He's the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend, You shall bilk him once and twice; But he'll trap you in the end, And he'll stick you for her price. With his kneebones at your chest, And his knuckles in your throat, You would reason — plead — protest! Clutching at her petticoat; But she's heard it all before, Well...
Page 340 - If we are, by virtue of precept and example, 'working great changes in the spirit of international morality,' it would be more self-respecting to give other nations a chance to express their unprodded appreciation and gratitude. America has invested her religion as well as her morality in sound income-paying securities. She has adopted the unassailable position of a nation blessed because it deserves to be blessed; and her sons, whatever other theologies they may affect or disregard, subscribe unreservedly...
Page 192 - MOTHER. And when I've done it, what good have I done? Rather than tip a table for you, let me Tell you what Ralle the Sioux Control once told me. He said the dead had souls, but when I asked him How could that be - I thought the dead were souls, He broke my trance.
Page 70 - Well, you wake up in the mornin', hear the ding dong ring. You go a-marchin" to the table, see the same damn thing. Well, it's on-a one table, knife-a, fork, an' a pan, An' if you say anything about it, you're in trouble with the man. Chorus: Let the Midnight Special shine its light on me, Let the Midnight Special shine its ever-lovin' light on me. If you go to Houston, you better walk right; You better not stagger, you better not fight, Or Sheriff Benson will arrest you, he will carry you down....
Page 508 - Hefjridge in Kansas right where was some US army men who lit out after the outlaws. They tried to stand off the soldiers, but the men fired and killed them both. So the song's wrong about the jail, but that's put in for poetry. You can't always have things like they are in poetry. Poetry hain't what you'd call truth. There ain't room enough in the verses. About Sam. Him and Jack Davis they lit out for Texas. Jim Berry and Dad for Mexico City, Missouri. The song goes on about Sam.) But Sam got back...

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About the author (2002)

Neil Gaiman is the author of many highly acclaimed and award-winning books for children and adults, including the New York Times #1 bestselling and Newbery Medal-winning novel The Graveyard Book and the bestselling Coraline, Stardust, and Odd and the Frost Giants. He is also the author of the picture books Blueberry Girl and Instructions, illustrated by Charles Vess; The Wolves in the Walls, The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish, and Crazy Hair, illustrated by Dave McKean; and The Dangerous Alphabet, illustrated by Gris Grimly. Originally from England, he now lives in the United States.

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