Digesting Neil Gaiman

This is just weird. Via Neil Gaiman’s blog, which I’ve been reading in an effort to more adequately engage with the blogosphere (and because Neil is a hero of mine, and I’ve been reading my way through all his fiction) – some guy set up, as an April Fool’s gag, a blog of a man who was going to “digest the compleat works of Neil Gaiman.” By “compleat” he means everything Neil’s ever written, and by “digest” he means pass through his alimentary canal.

It seems that a fair number of people believed that this slightly depressed, lonely individual was real and genuinely working his way through Gaiman’s back catalogue, which is odd in itself. What’s perhaps slightly more odd, if that’s possible, is that the selection of posts I read were actually really compelling – and, oddly, Gaiman-esque (like honey and spiders) – as if the imagined digestion of Neil’s writing translated itself into the posts. Which probably makes sense, as the blog’s writer was probably a fan.

I’ve never been that big a fan of paper. But the idea of shredded Coraline as breakfast cereal has a certain… well, not quite poetry, but there’s something there.