A Bit About Neil Gaiman
I wanted to avoid this subject, but here we are.
After my Brandon Sanderson article went unexpectedly viral (parabolic compared to my usual traffic here), a few friends asked if I’d be making a similar post about Neil Gaiman.
The answer was no. And that’s partly because I don’t typically write about the hot topics currently buzzing on social media, no matter how much traffic it might bring.
The other part is that the allegations against Gaiman didn’t surprise me in the least; There’s a reason I talked about Gaiman in the same article I spoke about Alan Moore.
So how did I know (or at least suspect)?
It’s quite simple: He had deep, intimate knowledge of the occult before one could research it on the internet.
But this boy, born in 1960, was raised by a family deep into Scientology, Dianetics, and Jewish mysticism. I can’t imagine coming out on the other side of that sort of childhood without a warped view on reality.
It’s hard to know how any of us would have turned out if we were raised the same.
Gaiman was given an unusually high rank within the (Scientology) church as a young teen, and sang in a punk rock band called Ex Execs.
But even for someone like Neil, back in the eighties the secrets of Hermetic Qabalah were closely guarded unless you were a … particular kind of character. And, if you know what you’re looking for, his writing is saturated with this knowledge.
Combine that with the outright fame and offers he’s had in the past (Penthouse, Knave), and his smug, feminist demeanor, and he starts becoming the kind of guy I’d rather not leave my children alone with.
Here’s a direct quote from my article on 7/21/21:
“(Alan Moore) also created a comic in 1999 called Promethea, which, much like Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, is layered with the teachings of Hermetic Qabalah.”
Here’s another article from 08/02/21:
‘Dee was a royal alchemist, and is often featured in stories that are layered with Hermetic Qabalah teachings. For example, in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, he is represented as “Dr. Dee”.’
In my own little way, I was sending out warnings that Gaiman’s not to be trusted.
When Gaiman was a child, he was inspired by The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings, along with Alice in Wonderland. Here, we get a divergence: A Neil who wants to be friends with the likes of Gene Wolfe, and a Neil who wants to be friends with the likes of Alan Moore.
I suspect the way it went down (mind, this is largely speculation) is Gaiman was getting some fame and notoriety by 1984, having penned a Duran Duran biography, and started rising to fame alongside award-winning author Kim Newman. He picked up Alan Moore’s highly acclaimed (and iconic) run of Swamp Thing from a local London comic shop and saw it as life-changing. He decided then and there he wanted to write a comic.
It seems he had enough clout to meet Alan Moore, and Alan taught him how to write comic scripts. They became close friends. I can only imagine Alan taught him quite a bit in addition, considering he is a well-known occultist and LSD dealer.
Gaiman has been more mask-off than ever in recent years, sabotaging his own Sandman TV series seemingly on purpose, injecting more Current Year into it than it could reasonably hold.
And Moore’s been getting away with peddling Satanic propaganda to teens for decades. The rest is history.
So why am I speaking about Gaiman now?
Because one of his tales in Sandman just happens to be a good follow-up to my series of posts on Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End.
But to talk about one of his tales these days without mentioning the allegations would be ignoring the elephant in the room. It’s only gotten worse since human trafficking charges were brought into the mix for him and his ex, Amanda Palmer.
Point 1: I’m not going to get into any details of the accusations.
Point 2: If you’d like to see me discuss a Sandman tale without any heavy baggage attached, check out this post.
Like with Sanderson, I’m no stranger to Gaiman and his career. I was introduced to his storytelling through Sandman in the 90s, and I even remember bringing a comic to school to show to my friends in the 7th grade. It meant that much to me.
Here’s my personal Sandman collection. I’m no slouch when it comes to his novels, either.
All to reiterate that, with Gaiman, I was not surprised at all. By the time I started hearing whispers about his inappropriate behavior with fans in convention circuits, I’d wizened up to how the world works and understood what kind of sins the beliefs he was extolling in his writings would lead to.
That’s not to say I wasn’t heartbroken over the allegations. I knew it was likely too late for the guy. But there’s always, always a path home to God, up to your dying day.
Separating the Art from the Artist
You may have noticed I have not removed Gaiman from my list of artists who have influenced my style. Because to say otherwise would be lying.
Perhaps you can separate the art from the artist to a certain extent, but you cannot separate the artists who have influenced you from your own art.
When Neil was a child and experienced The Chronicles of Narnia, he fell in love with how Lewis would parenthetically inject his own narrative thoughts into the story. It’s what made Gaiman fall in love with the art of writing in the first place.
And just as Neil cannot remove the influence of C.S. Lewis from his writing style, I cannot remove the influence of Neil Gaiman from my own.
But at least I can say I got through his works and came out on the other side without being indoctrinated. I can care about women without being a feminist. I don’t need to label myself as an “ally” in order to be a good person. I don’t need to wear these–or any–masks.
One can pretend to enjoy these works the same as before. But context colors our experience. For example, experiencing these comics in the 90s was much different than experiencing them now. There’s no denying it.
It’s like trying to enjoy The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley when The Last Closet: The Dark Side of Avalon exists. You know. You KNOW – that the professional book publishing industry has only gotten worse since then, right?
Gaiman’s behavior is merely indicative of a much larger problem; that if we were to peel back the boards, we’d find most of our heroes were up to this same kind of behavior. Gaiman was just the unlucky one who (again, allegedly) got caught this time around.
But people made their collective Shocked Pikachu faces, and rightfully so.
Some even cried. A good friend of mine met Neil Gaiman in person, and by all accounts he’s a pleasant guy. He’s damn good at outward appearances, I’ll give him that.
There are many Gustavo Frings in the world. They donate to charities. They cut the ribbons to the grand openings of children’s hospitals. They are always pleasant, always smiling. They capture people’s hearts.
They are often the worst people on this planet.
So Why Did I Post About Sanderson?
In case it wasn’t obvious, unlike Neil, Sanderson surprised me.
He seemed like a good person, a family man. It felt like he’d somehow made it through the TradPub gauntlet an unchanged man, wealthy enough to create great art without his publisher controlling his work or forcing him to share certain beliefs.
So to hear him suddenly start doubling down on the same kinds of talking points that you’d hear from … people like Gaiman and Moore … made me worry about him.
My post was nothing less than a call to prayer. It was my hopes that Sanderson would stop traveling down the path that leads to a future much like Gaiman’s … before it’s too late.
Like Sanderson, Gaiman could use your prayers.
Sigh. With that out of the way, the next post will be about that aforementioned Sandman tale.