‘Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.’ – G. K. Chesterton

With this delightful quote, we are ushered into the world of schoolgirl Coraline Jones. The Jones family has just moved into a very big, old house. With the natural curiosity that all young children possess, Coraline goes on an exploration of the house and its grounds. She discovers that her new flat contains fourteen doors, thirteen of which open and close. The fourteenth door is locked. With the turn of a black, rusty key, it opens onto a wall of red bricks.

One day, however, Coraline unlocks the door to find a cold, musty passageway. Stepping within, Coraline is taken into another flat closely resembling her own, with identical carpeting, wallpaper and furniture. Only it is different, after all – there is something peculiar about the eyes of the boy in the picture hanging on the wall…

At first, this other flat seems to contain all manner of things delightful. There is delicious food, a bedroom painted in the most interesting colour scheme, a toy box filled with wonderful toys – windup angels that flutter around, books with pictures that writhe and crawl and shimmer, little dinosaur skulls that chatter their teeth, little tanks that roll out to greet her. She wanders out of the flat, and encounters the haughty black cat she saw back in her own garden, except it can now talk. She also sees younger versions of her real neighbours, performing a never-ending piece of theatre to an audience of talking dogs.

But beneath the excitement of exploring these familiar-yet-alien premises, Coraline feels a sense of uneasiness. Perhaps it has something to do with the black rats residing under her bed. Their red eyes, unpleasant smiles and high, whispery singing. And the hungry expression in the eyes of the crazy old man who keeps them. Even more so, it has to
do with her other mother and other father, who wish to change Coraline, so that she might stay with them in this other flat and be their little girl. For ever and always.

Coraline beats a retreat through the dark passageway into the safety of her real home. But her real parents have mysteriously vanished without a trace. She comes to realise that they have been captured and imprisoned by her other mother – a gruesome entity who has created the world beyond the locked door. And thus, Coraline will have to venture once more into that twisted world of increasingly blurred realities, and use all of her wits and resources to rescue her parents, herself and the lost souls behind the mirror.

Neil Gaiman, the award-winning author of the novels “American Gods”, “Neverwhere”, “Stardust” and the “Sandman” series, has produced an original and tantalising fairy tale that unfolds at a snappy pace, never letting up till the last page. Intended for children aged eight years and above, this tale loses none of its charm on a cynical adult like me. It is written in relatively simple, concise language which is, nonetheless, delicately creepy and wondrously evocative. I’ll give you some examples:

‘The other mother’s wet-looking black hair drifted around her head, like the tentacles of a creature in the deep ocean.’

“Stay here with us… your other mother will build whole worlds for you to explore, and tear them down every night when you are done.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” asked Coraline.
“I swear it,” said the other mother. “I swear it on my own mother’s grave.”
“Does she have a grave?” asked Coraline.
“Oh yes,” said the other mother. “I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back.”

Another appe
aling aspect of this tale lies in its fresh ideas. Oh sure, we’ve all experienced the dizzying ‘parallel world’ adventures of “Alice in Wonderland”. But this story is more taut, focused and implicitly horrifying. The stakes are high, the consequences severe, and the adversary most daunting. Everything in this other world is a ghastly parody of the real world Coraline inhabits. The nature of some of the horror, I find, may even be too mature for children to grasp. But certain scenes and developments are definitely capable of sending a tingle down your spine. To the younger ones, presumably, the fright effect will be magnified.

This tale delivers no apparent moral. It is not a fable which teaches a certain lesson. Instead, each reader is left to glean individual insight from the many themes deftly woven into the story – that of courage, humility, imagination and acceptance.

Gaiman also displays acute intelligence in his depictions of adult-child relationships, and that of a child’s mind and desires. Hence his characterisation is convincingly apt. I genuinely felt for Coraline Jones, who seems to possess a wisdom and courage beyond her years, and yet retains a core of vulnerability. I can empathise with her frustration at being ignored and not really listened to. Her other mother got one thing right – Coraline is a child too clever and too quiet for the dismissive adults to understand. They don’t even notice it when they get her name wrong. “It’s Coraline, not Caroline.”

One last thing I have to mention, the copy of “Coraline” I am holding now is a 2002 hardcover edition from HarperCollins Publishers, which is adorned with the most superb illustrations from Dave McKean. A couple of these drawings really spooked me when I flipped over the pages unawares and unprepared.

Finally, this book gets a definite recommendation from me to people of all ages. It
has a refreshing simplicity and yet, depth. With its brooding undercurrent of malignity, it makes for a deliciously creepy read. Well at least it didn’t give me a phobia of buttons.


p/s: I simply couldn’t find the link for suggesting a new product, so I’ve placed it under the General category! Hope that’s all right.