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Richard Mayhew's life is forever changed after he rescues a young girl named Door and finds himself living in a city of monsters, saints, murderers, and angels, and he must help Door on her mission to save this strange underworld kingdom from destruction.
souloftherose: Although Neverwhere and The Hitchhiker's Guide (THHG) are different genres (the first is urban fantasy, the second comic science-fiction) I felt there was a lot of similarity between the characters of Richard Mayhew (in Neverwhere) and Arthur Dent (in THHG). Both are a kind of everyman with whom the reader can identify and both embody a certain 'Britishness'. And they're both stonkingly good books by British authors.… (més)
riverwillow: Both 'Neverwhere' and 'Rivers of London' (US title 'Midnight Riot') evoke a magical fairy tale London which sometimes feels more authentic then any real life guide to the city.
Phantasma: The nightside novels are a little darker, but if you like the ideas presented in Neverwhere, you'll most likely enjoy the Nightside (actually, I prefer the Nightside and it's gritty dark humor).
ehines: Regular guy stumbles into the secret realm. In Neverwhere this secret realm is very much a London one; in the Mysteries it is decidedly an old Celtic one. Also Never where turns into a full-blown fantasy adventure, while the Mysteries stays mostly realistic.
Neverwhere és un petit exercici de fantasia força rodó. Un llibre sense massa complicacions, amb un guió una mica entortolligat i amb bastantes coses agafades pels pèls, però ben amanit a l'estil Gaiman.
El més atraient del llibre és, sens dubte, el dibuix que fa del Londres subterrani, un món invisible al nostres ulls, però al mateix temps tan proper; on els noms de carrers i parades de metro que actualment no tenen cap sentit per nosaltres, esdevenen profundament literals.
El protagonista i el seu viatge de descobriment de final tan previsible, acaben sent una simple excusa i això pesa en el desenvolupament del llibre. La veritat és que mai arribem a empatitzar amb ell, ni semblen creïbles moltes de les coses que li passen.
Més que una novel·la, un exercici d'escapisme. ( )
Gaiman blends history and legend to fashion a traditional tale of good versus evil, replete with tarnished nobility, violence, wizardry, heroism, betrayal, monsters and even a fallen angel. The result is uneven. His conception of London Below is intriguing, but his characters are too obviously symbolic (Door, for example, possesses the ability to open anything). Also, the plot seems a patchwork quilt of stock fantasy images. Adapted from Gaiman's screenplay for a BBC series, this tale would work better with fewer words and more pictures.
The novel is consistently witty, suspenseful, and hair-raisingly imaginative in its contemporary transpositions of familiar folk and mythic materials (one can read Neverwhere as a postmodernist punk Faerie Queene). Readers who've enjoyed the fantasy work of Tim Powers and William Browning Spencer won't want to miss this one. And, yes, Virginia, there really are alligators in those sewers--and Gaiman makes you believe it.
The millions who know The Sandman, the spectacularly successful graphic novel series Gaiman writes, will have a jump start over other fantasy fans at conjuring the ambience of his London Below, but by no means should those others fail to make the setting's acquaintance. It is an Oz overrun by maniacs and monsters, and it becomes a Shangri-La for Richard. Excellent escapist fare.
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I have never been to St. John's Wood. I dare not. I should be afraid of the innumerable night of fir trees, afraid to come upon a blood red cup and the beating of the wings of the Eagle. – The Napoleon of Notting Hill, G. K. Chesterton
If ever though gavest hosen or shoon Then every night and all Sit thou down and put them on And Christ receive thy soul
This aye night, this aye night Every night and all Fire and fleet and candlelight And Christ receive thy soul
If ever thou gavest meat or drink Then every night and all The fire shall never make thee shrink And Christ receive thy soul
– The Lyke Wake Dirge (traditional)
Dedicatòria
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For Lenny Henry, friend and colleague, who made it happen all the way; and Merrilee Heifetz, friend and agent, who makes everything good.
Primeres paraules
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The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself.
She had been running for four days now, a harum-scarum tumbling flight through passages and tunnels.
Citacions
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"It starts with doors."
"You've a good heart," she told him. "Sometimes that's enough to see you safe wherever you go." Then she shook her head. "But mostly, it's not."
There are four simple ways for the observant to tell Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar apart: first, Mr. Vandemar is two and a half heads taller than Mr. Croup; secnod, Mr. Croup has eyes of a faded china blue, while Mr. Vandemar's eyes are brown; third, while Mr. Vandemar fashioned the rings he wears on his right hand out of the skulls of four ravens, Mr. Croup has no obvious jewelry; fourth, Mr. Croup likes words, while Mr. Vandemar is always hungry. Also, they look nothing at all alike.
He continued, slowly, by a process of osmosis and white knowledge (which is like white noise, only more useful)...
It was a good place, and a fine city, but there is a price to be paid for all good places, and a price that all good places have to pay.
Richard had noticed that events were cowards: they didn't occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.
Richard began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth...
"I have always felt," he said, "that violence was the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the final sanctuary of the terminally inept."
"As old as my tongue," said Hunter, primly, "and a little older than my teeth."
So the day became one of waiting, which was, he knew, a sin: moments were to be experienced; waiting was a sin against both the time that was still to come and the moments one was currently disregarding.
"With cities, as with people, Mister Vandemar," said Mr. Croup, fastidiously, "the condition of the bowels is all-important."
"Have you ever got everything you ever wanted? And then realized it wasn't what you wanted at all?"
"I thought I wanted a nice, normal life. I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don't want to be sane. You know?"
Darreres paraules
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And they walked away together through the hole in the wall, back into the darkness, leaving nothing behind them; not even the doorway.
Richard Mayhew's life is forever changed after he rescues a young girl named Door and finds himself living in a city of monsters, saints, murderers, and angels, and he must help Door on her mission to save this strange underworld kingdom from destruction.
El més atraient del llibre és, sens dubte, el dibuix que fa del Londres subterrani, un món invisible al nostres ulls, però al mateix temps tan proper; on els noms de carrers i parades de metro que actualment no tenen cap sentit per nosaltres, esdevenen profundament literals.
El protagonista i el seu viatge de descobriment de final tan previsible, acaben sent una simple excusa i això pesa en el desenvolupament del llibre. La veritat és que mai arribem a empatitzar amb ell, ni semblen creïbles moltes de les coses que li passen.
Més que una novel·la, un exercici d'escapisme. (