See Rock City. That line brings back memories of my childhood in the rolling farmland of central Kentucky, where those words cover the roofs of many barns. I’ve been to the Smokeys many times, but never to Rock City, and I doubt I’ll ever go. It’s just another tourist trap, another over-advertised–and I would guess underwhelming–tourist trap. But the memory remains, and that’s a lot of what American Gods is about.
Before reading American Gods, I had little respect for Gaiman. I’ve never read Sandman. I know I should. I hung out in a comic shop for a few years and never picked it up. I’ll have to remedy that. I read Fragile Things, and with the exception of a couple of the stories, I didn’t care for it. The stories were too surface, bordering on amateurish, and I almost stopped reading a few times. Several people recommended American Gods, though, and I found it at a book sale in Osaka. I now have a lot of respect for Gaiman and plan to read more of his work.
Wall Drug. Have you heard of Wall Drug? Have you been there? It’s out west somewhere, maybe one of the Dakotas or Wyoming. I can’t remember, and I’m afraid looking it up will kill the memory. After seeing roadside advertisements for hundreds of miles, we stopped there on one of our family vacations. I think I stayed in the car. I was in high school then, a time when staying in the car was just one more small act of rebellion. I should have gotten out and looked around. I should have taken in the place, appreciated it for what it was, appreciated it for how American it was. And, that’s what American Gods is all about. Okay, not exactly, but we’re getting close.
I hate descriptions of dreams in novels. It’s weak writing. When writers run out of story, they start describing the characters’ dreams. Boring. It’s almost as bad as having the main character look in a mirror so the author can describe her/his physical appearance. Weak. Dreams are important in this story, though, so I’ll give Gaiman a pass here. The dream sequences were still boring, but at least they were part of the story and not some weak attempt at character development or space filling.
So, if you’ve ever had the urge to pull over and check out the world’s largest ball of twine, you’ll want to check out American Gods.
What’s your favorite tourist trap?