Book Review: Coraline by Neil Gaiman

A casual book review by a casual reader

I have no idea what anyone thinks about the book Coraline by Neil Gaiman. I haven’t read reviews, and the book came out when I was already an adult, so I don’t have nostalgic childhood recollections to sway me. I gather Coraline is popular, but that’s all I really know for sure. (Clearly, if you are hoping for a well-rounded, well informed book review, this is not the book review for you. Feel free to move on.) I’ve seen bits and pieces of the movie by Henry Selick, and I read somewhere about a little girl being scared by an early version of the story, but I simply bought my copy and started reading, not a preconceived notion in sight. Pure bliss.

One thing you should know about me is that I hate context.

I almost never want a plot description, and I loathe spoilers.* This tendency of mine to literally pick a book by its cover has led to some… interesting... moments. Sometimes I am utterly scandalized by a book or terribly disappointed in a movie, but every now and then serendipity hits and I fall in love with something new completely out of nowhere. One of my favorites? The film Stoker directed by Park Chan-wook and starring Mia Wasikowska, Nicole Kidman, and Matthew Goode. The piano scene is incredible, and I have never shelled hard boiled eggs the same way since watching it. Best random library DVD section pick ever. What does this mean for you?

No spoilers here. Don’t worry, I got your back.

Back to Coraline, I had no idea what to expect from this little book. The imagery in the film told me it was probably dark, but I’ve never read Neil Gaiman before so who knew if I’d like it. So, here’s my one sentence review of Coraline:

Coraline is a guileless story entirely about guile.

I cannot tell you how much this thrilled me. The simplicity of the language and storytelling, the easy-going story arc, and approachable vocabulary was enchanting when contrasted with the duplicity of the other mother’s world. I felt like Neil Gaiman was telling a story that simply needed to be told. It wasn’t forced and it wasn’t pretentious. In all, it made me happy, and it made me think so I give it two thumbs up.

Other Mothers

My children are moving out of young childhood into the teenage years, so I have been spending a lot of time thinking about childhood. What makes a good childhood? What makes a good parent? Am I doing anything right by these kids I am attempting to raise? The most striking realization I have had about childhood is that it is a coin with two sides. There is the child on one side and the parent on the other. When I was a child, it never occurred to me that my mother was a whole person doing whole person things with a whole person inner life, and she wasn’t just my mom. I can see it now though. I am a mom trying to be a good mom while also trying to be more than just a mom. All this while also trying to create a good childhood for my children. Everything I do affects them and everything they are affects me.

I can, will, and have done (almost) anything for my children. I’ve made difficult decisions for their good and mine, but I’ve also failed and stumbled at times. Motherhood is incredibly confusing. However, when I can’t figure out what’s right, I can usually always figure out what’s wrong. I’ve found this to be especially true with motherhood. I think there are lots of right decisions, and usually only a few very wrong ones. Here’s how Neil Gaiman puts it in these two quotes from Coraline:

“Well, I just thought you’d want to know,” said Coraline.

“Thank you, Coraline,” said the other mother coldly, and her voice did not just come from her mouth. It came from the mist, and the fog, and the house, and the sky. She said, “You know that I love you.”

And, despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true: the other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother’s button eyes, Coraline knew that she was a possession, nothing more. A tolerated pet, whose behaviour was no longer amusing.

There was nothing here that frightened her. These things – even the thing in the cellar – were illusions, things made by the other mother in a ghastly parody of the real people and real things on the other end of the corridor. She couldn’t truly make anything, decided Coraline. She could only twist and copy and distort things that already existed.

I think what I am trying to say without saying it is there are some really terrible mothers out there. I try to always give the benefit of the doubt, but I have personally watched some rather horrifying displays of mothers’ selfishness, deceit, manipulation, and neglect. And I think this is what I want to say loudest about Coraline:

If you have an other mother, Coraline did too. You are not alone.

All mothers make mistakes, but some mothers twist the world around them into a place that echoes nothing but lies and manipulation. The very structure of their world is hurt. I was struck by how eloquently and quietly Neil Gaiman wove this heartbreaking concept into a straightforward story about a straightforward little girl. All mothers are people, but not all people are good people, you know?

Coraline’s mother had her flaws, but the other mother had it out for Coraline. There’s a world of difference between those things and I love the way Neil Gaiman wrote this concept into the worlds of Coraline. As the reader I am ready to ask if I am the mother or the other mother or some other other mother that can be the mother I always wanted to be. My world intersects and shapes the worlds of my children. May that overlap always be for their good.

Waking Up

Here’s another thing to think about from Coraline:

For a moment she felt utterly dislocated. She did not know where she was; she was not entirely sure who she was. It is astonishing just how much of what we are can be tied to the beds we wake up in in the morning, and it is astonishing how fragile that can be.

We’ve all felt disoriented in a hotel room. I’ve woken up thinking my child was my partner and I’ve thought the door was on the opposite side of the room. It’s always weird, but it passes. This quote makes me think about waking up in life. I mentioned I went through a few big life changes a few years ago and honestly did not know where I was. I was completely and utterly dislocated. I was waking up in a new bed and, dang, Gaiman is right when he says it’s all so fragile.

But, the most important part is: I woke up. I figured out who I was again, and I now feel safe and happy in my bed. My stomach doesn’t clench with fear in the morning and my heart doesn’t race with worry. It’s so good to remember that the disorientation will pass. One day my disorientation will be a funny story I tell my friends, just like the time I couldn’t remember where the door was. I never expected a little book to hit me so hard in my look-how-far-I’ve-come feels.

A Quick Note on Courage

I often remind my youngest, most anxious child that being courageous is being scared and doing it anyway. It warmed my heart to hear almost those same exact words written in Coraline. I use that mantra myself so very often. I’m glad other artists are telling it to far more people than I can ever reach.

The End

If you decide to read Coraline for yourself, try to get ahold of the version illustrated by Chris Riddell. His illustrations are so well done and really add to the charm of the story. There are also some wonderful introduction sections that I really enjoyed, almost as much as the story itself.

Illustration bliss. Thank you, Chris Riddell.

Have you read Coraline? Seen the movie? I’d love to know your thoughts. As much as I hate opinions and spoilers before I read a book, I adore them afterward. Tell me what you thought!

*(The only exception to these rules are scary movies. If I want to try to watch a movie that veers on thriller, let alone horror, I read the wiki summary first to decide if I can bear to watch it because my tender heart is just too easily terrorized.)