Description: Neverwhere is one of NPR’s top 100 science fiction and fantasy books of all time. For good reason. It was published in 1997 and over the years various versions have been produced for tv and radio. But the edition I read is the author’s preferred text. It’s a bit meandering but certainly makes some of the other versions feel a tad watered down.
The general story is that Richard Mayhew is a young businessman. He’s left Scotland to make his life in London. He’s happened, by chance, into a relationship with Jessica, who is a serious powerhouse and believes she can make him into the man of her dreams. Richard is a drip. En route to a very important dinner, the recently engaged couple have their plans thwarted when they come across a street girl who is badly injured. Richard insists on being a good Samaritan, which pisses off Jessica. She leaves in a huff and later calls off their wedding. This is all inconsequential to Richard who finds himself so deep in shit that a pissed off fiancee is the least of his worries. The girl Richard helps is from the London underworld. She’s undead or whatever would best describe someone who has been alive centuries. And it so happens that she’s being chased by assassins, creepy, creepy assassins. The Marquis de Carabas, Hunter, the girl Door (who is the noblewoman Lady Door), and Richard Mayhew embark on a quest to find who killed Door’s family and who is after her. There’s magic, misgivings, murderers, angels, and a whole world under London that is richer (and smellier) than Richard can even imagine. There’s even a night market held in Harrod’s, but London Below is such a different place than London Above. If Richard is noble enough, he might be able to return to his life. In the meantime, he’s going to die trying, maybe literally.
Favourite Moment: There are a ton of great moments with Richard, and the Marquis de Carabas is one of my favourite characters, but early on there is a little moment that perfectly depicts Jessica.
Jessica stood there on the sidewalk, watching him ruin her big evening, and her eyes stung with tears. After a while he was out of sight, and then, and only then, did she say, loudly and distinctly, as unladylike “Shit,” and fling her handbag as hard as she could onto the ground, hard enough to scatter her mobile phone and her lipstick and her planner and a handful of tampons across the concrete. And then, because there was nothing else to do, she picked them all up and put them back into her handbag and walked back down to the restaurant, to wait for Mr. Stockton.
Later, as she sipped her white wine, she tried to come up with plausible reasons why her fiancé was not with her, and found herself wondering desperately whether or not she could simply claim that Richard was dead.
“It was very sudden,” said Jessica, wistfully, under her breath.
Perfect for fans of … well of Neil Gaiman obviously. But otherwise, if you like radio plays, fantasy, science fiction, bizarre plot twists, Tim Burton, this is for you.