eil Gaiman can always be counted on to provide interesting and clever fiction. And this one, his massive tome of American Gods, shows this ability to the utmost.
So figure that gods need people to make them exist. They exist through belief. Belief is what makes gods live, and brings them power. So of course, American has no gods before there are people (the rest of the world is lousy with them). And as humans arrive, across the Barents Strait, grind their longboat prows into Newfoundland, settle in Plymouth, arrive to build railroads, to escape a potato famine, or are simply drawn to our shores for “a better life”, people came. And of course, they bring their gods.
So these are the old gods, the gods of original arrivals. But now they are being pushed aside by new gods, American gods, the gods of railroads, of media and of freeways (I love the comment that this god demands sacrifices that would have made the Aztecs envious). More people believe in this American life and this American shit than they do of fairies, elves, and a thousand village spirits and creatures their ancestors brought with them.
Of course, it looks pretty bad for the old gods – that is until a one-eyed god begins to rally the others for a final stand, a god with two crows named “Wednesday” (can I be any more obvious?). And into this gathering storm is propelled Shadow Moon, an ex-con whose wife died (and not as chastely as he could have wished), who decides to be Wednesday’s “man”: Driver, bodyguard, gofor. But he’s in for so much more.
A great book with a wonderful premise, the idea of old world vs new, a fun read and worth picking up. As groundbreaking as it was, you should be able to find it in any New God bookstore.