The Ocean at the End of the Lane

In recent years, I have been exploring some interesting writers. One of them is Neil Gaiman and the first book of his I read was The Ocean at the End of The Lane. It is in the genre of dark fantasy and believe me when I say he is an effective and very talented writer.

Now, there is a portion of the book that stayed with me and crept into my dreams, and while it is no longer in my dreams, whenever I think of or someone mentions Neil Gaiman, one of the first images that comes to mind is a boy with a worm in his foot.

The boy, who is also the narrator, goes to the bathroom [in Chapter 5] to “deal” with the worm [perhaps not wanting to tell an adult about his predicament because adults just did not take him seriously]. He prods the little hole in his foot using a pair of tweezers, manages to get hold of the worm, and nearly succeeds in pulling it out, except the worm breaks off at some point. So, basically, he gets maybe half of it out and the other half or a bit of it stays in his foot.

I’ve been wondering why this image affected me so strongly and it only occurred to me recently that it is because it is a very familiar experience. Back in Uganda when I was much, much younger, we liked to play outside – come rain or shine. We also took off our shoes; it was easier, more fun. But I also remember that when we visited my grandparents in Kangarame in Kinkizi, we played bare-footed. Playing bare-footed meant we were coming into constant contact with all manner of things, some dangerous.

Now, every now and then, someone would get a jigger and I remember that a safety pin would be used to try and dig out the jigger-causing flea from the foot. So, imagine coming to the book and finding out that the narrator was possessed by some evil element, and that it had accessed his body by puncturing his skin/foot, just like the flea that causes jiggers. The action of using tweezers to dig out the worm transported me to the discomforts that come with having a foreign thing in your foot and knowing or not knowing the extent of havoc it could unleash in your body.

Good writing transports us to new places, and to familiar places. I am reading more of Neil Gaiman, and just completed a joint read of Stardust. Fantastic work if you ask me. I highly recommend this author.