Life among the dead

‘There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.’ The Graveyard Book has one of the most arresting opening sentences one could imagine. Fortunately, Neil Gaiman then leaves melodrama for something much more interesting and thoughtful. By chance, as a toddler, Bod, the central character of the story escapes the assassin who has killed his family, and wanders into a graveyard, where he is adopted by the ghosts. Gaiman observes one of the principal rules of fantasy, which is to have rules — nothing is duller than a dream-world where anything can happen. The ghosts of his world stay as they were at the moment of their deaths, and cannot usually leave the place where they were buried. They are generally referred to by name, dates, and a monumental mason’s pious sentiment (‘Doctor Trefusis, 1870-1936, May He Wake to Glory’). The graveyard is a fascinating world for a child ; as Bod grows, he learns to read from the tombstones, hears history from the people who were there — the oldest known ghost is a Roman, but the graveyard is older than that — and acquires a few spectral skills.

Anything less like the conventional Hallowe’en horrors of spooks and chains it would be difficult to conceive. The dead — and the undead — are kindly; although Gaiman gives us a few genuinely frightening moments, they are created by older and nastier beings. On the other hand, the living can be spiteful and deceptive. It is hardly surprising that Bod says that he is not afraid to die — all his best friends are dead already.

This is a beautifully constructed book, in which what appears to be a series of episodes in the boy’s life builds up to a structured plot with a satisfying denouement; and Bod is a charming hero, courageous, considerate and polite in the styles of many centuries.