Coraline by Neil Gaiman: a review

Like many people my age, the film of this book was somewhat of a staple of my childhood. I don’t mean to brag, but I never really had the nightmares after watching it. I was obsessed with the film, and I’m almost certain that, because of this, I borrowed the book from the library as a kid. I’m not certain that I did do that, and we’ll cover that a little more later.

            Coraline by Neil Gaiman follows the titular character just after she’s moved into a new apartment with her parents. She discovers a door that’s bricked up, but when she’s brought back to it by little rodent, it isn’t bricked up anymore. It leads to a flat that’s almost, but not quite, just like her own. She discovers another set of parents with buttons for eyes. Coraline is presented with a world of wonders, but quickly realises that all is not as brilliant as it seems. It’s a creepy tale, even for an adult reader.

I’m not trying to do a book and film comparison, but I know there will be a few of them popping up here and there. The film has a whole scene where the mother turns fully into a spider and there’s a web which doesn’t appear in the book. The book mentions that Coraline is scared of spiders, and I feel like if that was mentioned in the film, it would have made a huge difference to the ending. This, however, is not a film review, so that’s enough of that.

            I’d love to have been a fly on the wall in the meeting where Gaiman pitched this as a book for kids.

            “I’ve written a kids book.”

            “Okay?”

            “I’m going to give them nightmares.”

            “What?”

            “They’re never going to sleep again.”

            “Sold!”

I do wonder what went through Neil Gaiman’s brain when the idea for this book came into his head.

            I love the repetition of her name, especially whenever she’s called “Caroline” rather than “Coraline”. It’s subtle, but it’s a fantastic way of showing that a major theme is Coraline having to hold onto herself in the face of everything.

            As someone with little to no attention span, I struggle to read a book for more than maybe 20 pages, but I flew through this book. It’s just over 200 pages long, and I read it in three sittings. I was lost in this book. This book is so immersive.

            “The limeade didn’t taste anything like limes. It tasted bright green and vaguely chemical” is an absolutely fantastic line. There’s something just perfect about it. “It tasted bright green” should make sense, but it works so damn well.

            “It is astonishing just how much of what we are can be tied down to the beds we wake up in in the morning, and it is astonishing how fragile that can be.”

            I’ve been travelling back and forth between home and uni a lot recently, and this bit really hit because of that. The first morning after staying in either location is always confusing, but the more time I spend in uni, the more I get confused waking up at home, even after staying there for a few days. I’ve become more at home in myself at uni, so waking up there just feels more natural.

            I’m really glad that I actually watched the film first. I generally hold this belief because it means I can enjoy both pieces of media at least once before I find out the book makes the film unwatchable (I’m looking at you Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy). However, that’s not the case with this book because the film is still fantastic after reading it. The reason I’m glad I watched the film first is because, when I read the book, I imagined it in the stop-motion style of the movie. I think if I read the book first and imagined it in a realistic sort of fashion I’d never sleep again.

            I’d always assumed that the buttons were stitched over the eyelids of anyone who had them. Maybe the eyes were taken out underneath, but the buttons always went above the lids in my imagination. However, the phrase “her other mother stared at her, black button eyes unblinking” gives the impression that the buttons go under the eyelids and they replace the eyeballs. I think it’s the idea that, if I had the buttons, I’d feel them scraping on the underside of my eyelids as I blink, but this is so much more horrifying than them being stitched over the top.

            One of my favourite things in this novel is the way that everything falls apart the more that the other mother’s hold over Coraline slips. It’s so eerie, and it’s a moment where the tone feels like that of a more mature and classic horror novel. The way that Gaiman bridges the gap is brilliant.

            My absolute favourite scene is the one in the cellar where Coraline meets what’s left of her other father. This is the scene that makes me unsure as to whether or not I did in fact read the book as a kid; I feel like a scene like this would have stuck with me because it’s deeply chilling. Maybe the way it stuck with me was giving me a future love for gothic reads. I do love a good spooky book.

            Coraline’s childlike ingenuity is absolutely fantastic. All of her solutions come from an imagination that feel so wonderfully childlike. Of course, all of this comes from the mind of Neil Gaiman, and it’s when he talks about Coraline’s intelligence and cunning, he shows how fantastic he is at writing children. Not many authors can write children the way he does in such a believable fashion. Terry Pratchett and Darren Shan are the only others I can think of that do it so well. I suppose that’s why Gaiman and Pratchett worked so well together when writing a book mostly centring around a group of 11-year olds, though we’ll hear more on that in an upcoming review.

            I definitely recommend this book to anyone who watched the film and never found time to read the book. Also, if you love the film and want even more of a thrill, then this is certainly the book for you. Even if you have never seen the film and want a creepy gothic book to read, this is a fantastic book to satiate your needs. I can’t say I recommend this to anyone who watched the film and get nightmares just thinking about it. All of the horrifying aspects of the film are amplified here. Gaiman has other works that you’ll much prefer. I did a review on Stardust, and that’s certainly a book for all (not a younger audience, but it’s not scary at all).