American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman is just incredible. The first novel I've read by him was Neverwhere and I thought it was an amazing work of high imagination, well-written, and incredibly fun. Next, I read Stardust, which is chronologically older than Neverwhere, and while I really enjoyed it, it became clear to me that Gaiman has been evolving, improving as a novelist. I could see that Neverwhere's writing was much more cohesive and effective than Stardust's (which is still a beautiful book). Then I read Good Omens, which I don't know how to place in Gaiman's evolution because it was co-authored by Terry Pratchett.

Then came American Gods... Up to that point, Gaiman had not written any novel which was as enjoyable, as complex, as well-researched, as beautiful as this. American Gods uses ideas that Gaiman started to explore in the Sandman comics and takes them all the way to the end of the road. Basically the book hinges on the premise that gods are the creation of human belief and worship; we give them physical existence and supernatural power through the workings of our minds, through the rituals and sacrificial offerings we make in their names.

The main character is this guy called Shadow, an ex-con (though a prototypical nice guy), who meets up with a strange man on the very day he comes out of prison. There's more to this "strange" man called Wednesday than meets the eye (the single eye he has). Wednesday and Shadow then embark on a road trip not only across the vast geographic expanse that is America, but also on the variegated mythological space created by the faiths of its many immigrant groups from around the globe. You're shown how old gods and new gods coexist in this space, living under the tension of a gig that may be about to end for some and just beginning for others. Quite possibly, this book will stand as Gaiman's masterpiece, or at least as my favourite volume from his collection.