I've been a longtime fan of the fantasy genre. When I was younger, I read a lot of low fantasy and as I aged the high fantasy began to flow into my life as well. I also happen to love space and fairytales, so when Neil Gaiman's Stardust came on my radar I had a brief moment of, "Huh, oh wow, I need to read that like... right now." It tells the story of a young man who journeys beyond the wall of his countryside town into the land of fae in order to fetch a fallen star for the woman he loves. Right off the bat, I was hooked. It also helped that it was Neil Gaiman, an author whose work I’ve read before. By reading Stardust, I learned a multitude of things that make a good fantasy writer (or writer in general).
The way Gaiman uses chapter titles makes me insanely happy. I learned that they can give hints towards the chapter's content and also provide a sense of the tone. For example, the first chapter is titled, “In Which We Learn of the Village of Wall, and of the Curious Thing That Occurs There Every Nine Years”. As a lover of wildly lengthy and unnecessarily descriptive titles, this was a joy to see. The chapter contains just what it says on the tin. We get educated in a prologue sense on the world his characters live in. It's informational, like a storybook (which I'll touch on later). Some of the titles are humorous - like chapter three’s, “In Which We Encounter Several Other Persons, Many of Them Still Alive, With an Interest in the Fate of the Fallen Star” - or insanely blunt, like chapter nine’s, “Which Deals Chiefly With the Events at Diggory’s Dyke”. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, many of these chapter names follow a pattern of using the word ‘which’. This makes a predictable and fun rhythm for the reader to grasp onto, and makes it even more exciting when chapters break the mold (which happens four times around pivotal plot moments). Another thing I noticed about Gaiman’s chapter titles is that, on occasion, they will have multiple meanings. The primary example is chapter five’s title, “In Which There is Much Fighting for the Crown”. During this chapter, the main characters stumble upon a lion and a unicorn fighting for a crown (literal) but at the same time, a handful of princes are tracking the star in order to capture her and the gem she possesses so they can become the next ruler of their kingdom (metaphorical).
Another thing I learned from Stardust is that there really isn’t a wrong way to world build. After some discussion with my dad, we both came to the conclusion that Neil Gaiman loves to throw in completely useless information and then never bring it up again. His writing style is the complete opposite of Chekhov's gun, and it’s enthralling to read. Some of them are written in parentheses like snarky side comments: “... they walked the whole way past the Thorn family farm (where the gentleman in the top hat was startled by a cow, sleeping in the meadow, which snorted as it dreamed) until they reached Dunstan’s cottage (12)”. Others encompass the entire book, such as the four ghost brothers, who are there to watch their three living brothers struggle and essentially just laugh at them. There’s this one brief scene about a mouse who is actually a prince enchanted to be a mouse and who must eat the Nut of Wisdom in order to turn back into a prince, but suddenly he’s swooped up and eaten by an owl who is actually a woman, also trapped under a curse, that must eat a mouse that has eaten the Nut of Wisdom in order to regain her form (68-69). All of that across two pages, for absolutely no reason at all. The owl is simply there to witness the landing of the star and everything before it is hogwash. To me, that’s hilarious. I try to do that in my own writing but can never quite let go of something enough to drop it once and leave. Another thing I came across with world building was the impressive amount of fairy knowledge. Gaiman acknowledged all sorts of common lore such as the fact that you’re not supposed to tell anyone your full name, accept any gifts, or answer any questions truthfully. Not only were they expertly dropped in (many had entire scenes dedicated to them), but also came up later on as Tristan needed. He slowly crafted these powers for Tristan, hinting at his abilities until they finally came to fruit near the middle of the book. Both random fact dropping and strong exposition are excellent things to have in a piece.
Reading this book, I felt like I was being sat down and told the story around a campfire. Through this, I learned that the use of language and description can give off different vibes. Gaiman gives the most beautiful descriptions of characters: “Tristan Thorn, at the age of seventeen… was half the way between a boy and a man, and was equally uncomfortable in either role; he seemed to be composed chiefly of elbows and Adam’s apples. His hair was the brown of sodden straw, and it stuck out at awkward, seventeen-year-old angles… (40)”. And at one point he describes a voice as “small and hairy”, which made me go wild because I’ve never heard a voice being referred to as hairy before but it sure did paint a clear picture of the tiny, hair-covered man that was speaking. Also, the simplistic language Gaiman uses is a nice change of pace. As I said, it really feels like someone is telling a story, just skimming over the good bits; “They kissed for the first time then in the cold spring rain, though neither one of them now knew that it was raining. Tristan’s heart pounded in his chest as if it were not big enough to contain all the joy that it held. He opened his eyes as he kissed the star. Her sky-blue eyes stared back into his, and in her eyes he could see no parting from her (234)”. Maybe it’s just that my writing is insanely detailed because I’m obsessed with dramatic turns of phrase, but this entire book was very soothing to read because of the toned down words. This is their first kiss, one of the most romantic scenes in the book, and yet we just get a general overview. But it’s enough.
The way Gaiman uses chapter titles makes me insanely happy. I learned that they can give hints towards the chapter's content and also provide a sense of the tone. For example, the first chapter is titled, “In Which We Learn of the Village of Wall, and of the Curious Thing That Occurs There Every Nine Years”. As a lover of wildly lengthy and unnecessarily descriptive titles, this was a joy to see. The chapter contains just what it says on the tin. We get educated in a prologue sense on the world his characters live in. It's informational, like a storybook (which I'll touch on later). Some of the titles are humorous - like chapter three’s, “In Which We Encounter Several Other Persons, Many of Them Still Alive, With an Interest in the Fate of the Fallen Star” - or insanely blunt, like chapter nine’s, “Which Deals Chiefly With the Events at Diggory’s Dyke”. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, many of these chapter names follow a pattern of using the word ‘which’. This makes a predictable and fun rhythm for the reader to grasp onto, and makes it even more exciting when chapters break the mold (which happens four times around pivotal plot moments). Another thing I noticed about Gaiman’s chapter titles is that, on occasion, they will have multiple meanings. The primary example is chapter five’s title, “In Which There is Much Fighting for the Crown”. During this chapter, the main characters stumble upon a lion and a unicorn fighting for a crown (literal) but at the same time, a handful of princes are tracking the star in order to capture her and the gem she possesses so they can become the next ruler of their kingdom (metaphorical).
Another thing I learned from Stardust is that there really isn’t a wrong way to world build. After some discussion with my dad, we both came to the conclusion that Neil Gaiman loves to throw in completely useless information and then never bring it up again. His writing style is the complete opposite of Chekhov's gun, and it’s enthralling to read. Some of them are written in parentheses like snarky side comments: “... they walked the whole way past the Thorn family farm (where the gentleman in the top hat was startled by a cow, sleeping in the meadow, which snorted as it dreamed) until they reached Dunstan’s cottage (12)”. Others encompass the entire book, such as the four ghost brothers, who are there to watch their three living brothers struggle and essentially just laugh at them. There’s this one brief scene about a mouse who is actually a prince enchanted to be a mouse and who must eat the Nut of Wisdom in order to turn back into a prince, but suddenly he’s swooped up and eaten by an owl who is actually a woman, also trapped under a curse, that must eat a mouse that has eaten the Nut of Wisdom in order to regain her form (68-69). All of that across two pages, for absolutely no reason at all. The owl is simply there to witness the landing of the star and everything before it is hogwash. To me, that’s hilarious. I try to do that in my own writing but can never quite let go of something enough to drop it once and leave. Another thing I came across with world building was the impressive amount of fairy knowledge. Gaiman acknowledged all sorts of common lore such as the fact that you’re not supposed to tell anyone your full name, accept any gifts, or answer any questions truthfully. Not only were they expertly dropped in (many had entire scenes dedicated to them), but also came up later on as Tristan needed. He slowly crafted these powers for Tristan, hinting at his abilities until they finally came to fruit near the middle of the book. Both random fact dropping and strong exposition are excellent things to have in a piece.
Reading this book, I felt like I was being sat down and told the story around a campfire. Through this, I learned that the use of language and description can give off different vibes. Gaiman gives the most beautiful descriptions of characters: “Tristan Thorn, at the age of seventeen… was half the way between a boy and a man, and was equally uncomfortable in either role; he seemed to be composed chiefly of elbows and Adam’s apples. His hair was the brown of sodden straw, and it stuck out at awkward, seventeen-year-old angles… (40)”. And at one point he describes a voice as “small and hairy”, which made me go wild because I’ve never heard a voice being referred to as hairy before but it sure did paint a clear picture of the tiny, hair-covered man that was speaking. Also, the simplistic language Gaiman uses is a nice change of pace. As I said, it really feels like someone is telling a story, just skimming over the good bits;
“They kissed for the first time then in the cold spring rain, though neither one of them now knew that it was raining. Tristan’s heart pounded in his chest as if it were not big enough to contain all the joy that it held. He opened his eyes as he kissed the star. Her sky-blue eyes stared back into his, and in her eyes he could see no parting from her (234)”.
Maybe it’s just that my writing is insanely detailed because I’m obsessed with dramatic turns of phrase, but this entire book was very soothing to read because of the toned down words. This is their first kiss, one of the most romantic scenes in the book, and yet we just get a general overview. But it’s enough.