Mike Dariano

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The Ocean at the End of the Lane (book review)

I finished Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane. I first noticed the lightness of the book when I picked it up off the reserve shelf at our public library. I have the combined copy of American Gods and Anansi Boys which stands as a heavy pillar on my bookshelf and I read Neverwhere as a digital copy (these three have 565, 368, & 400 pages respectively). The Ocean has 180 pages and while the physical appearance of the is book slight, the content is not.

The narrator is a man who returns to his hometown for a family funeral and instead of attending the gathering after the burial drives to where he grew up. His house has been destroyed and built into housing subdivisions but past his home - at the end of the lane - is another home that stands just as it was when he was younger, and that’s how the story begins, as the younger version of the man narrates.

Gaiman’s book are never simple stories, instead choosing to balance on the ideas of gods in our world and how they might act. This book is no exception and we’re introduce to Lettie Hempstock, a girl who has been “eleven for a long time”.

It’s the things Gaiman implies that give his stories such a powerful aura more than the things he says. His analogies are good and descriptions just right but with each of these he only takes us to the ledge,and then asks us to use our imaginations to look over.

Casco Viejo

On Tynan

Jose, our friend and the guy who rented our apartment to us, is a Spanish teacher here in Panama. He comes over a couple times a week and hangs out with us. It's business and pleasure - we learn Spanish from him and we teach him about online business. He's a lot more of an expert in his field than we are in ours.

Last week he told us about a couple he teaches here. The guy, Peep (pronounced 'Pep') is from Estonia, and the girl, Sarah, is from Austin! We called them up and planned to hang out one night.

They live in Casco Viejo - "The Old City". Todd and I kept intending to go visit Casco Viejo, but never got around to it. Unless there's a moderate amount of pressure, you can't ply us from our work.

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