First published as the companion novelization to its UK television series in 1996, Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere follows the story of ordinary Richard Mayhew as he crosses between the worlds of London Above and the darker London Below. A mix of genres with elements of realism, gothic, fantasy, steampunk, science fiction, and others embedded throughout this dark urban fantasy novel, Neverwhere illustrates the modern form of the novel in a postmodern tradition of escapism. As the author himself put it, “It’s a book about paying attention to things” (Gaiman).
Following a long tradition in the development of British novels, Neverwhere evokes venerable predecessors such as Horace Walpole’s Castle of Otranto in its dark, gothic, and fantastical elements. Likewise, it resonates with J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, the longing of Bilbo Baggins for ordinary life and home reflected in the similar mindset of reluctant protagonist Richard Mayhew. True to postmodern form, Gaiman also continuously draws from modern society and popular culture (such as the London Underground and creatures in the sewers) alongside references to Shakespeare, Hogarth, and other historical figures. It is in this aspect that Neverwhere gains its unique feel, as explained by Pike, “The force of such fictions, both cinematic and literary, lies in their manipulation of the spaces of everyday life and of the metaphorical power embedded in those spaces” (10).
Neverwhere too has been taken up by other forms, existing as a TV series, stage play, audio book, and graphic novel series. Similarities in theme and feel likewise connect Gaiman’s work to modern movies such as The Adjustment Bureau, which involves an underground system of travel through a network of doors—strikingly similar to Door’s abilities and their groups journey below the city. Genre-wise, Neverwhere’s exploration of an alternative London likewise appeals to a technologically modern audience in players of browser-based novel-esque games such as Fallen London, where reader-players “Discover a dark and hilarious Gothic underworld where your actions affect everything from the fate of the British Empire to the price of your soul” (Fallen).
As well as its postmodern applicability, Neverwhere likewise follows the escapist tradition. It does this in terms of content, such as with the existence of two real versions of London and submersive exploration into an alternate and different magical world. Hunter describes the content as containing such a unique and interesting writing style, “…the eerily detailed landscape of London below is etched with bravura nightmarish precision: it’s a setting that might have been invented by a Kafka-influenced Dickens” (231). Escapism is also emphasized as a key element in the story as Richard, in coping with his new experiences within London Below, reacts to “falling through the cracks”. While at first skeptical and disbelieving, he eventually comes to terms with many unpleasant clashes on his original view on reality, changing his perception until London Below becomes less fantastical and more real.
As London Below becomes more real to Richard, his former reality begins to slip underneath his newfound abstract world. Though popular culture and literature often identify the city structure as a unified body, Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere “…constructs [London] as a divided body” (Round). These two worlds initially appear to be divided and distinctly separate, and it would be appropriate to admonish someone to “mind the gap”. This phrase is generally associated with the gap between the platform and the train, but is applicable to Neverwhere as “the Underground comprises the essential fabric of the city, tying its disparate locations together and making the distant present” (Vertesi, 26). What the eye does not see lying beneath serves as the backbone for what resides above; what we perceive to be reality is supported by the unknown below.
To create an intricate alter-reality, Gaiman craftily incorporates modern and ancient traditions into his work. “The modern legend, Victorian legend, and one of the two ancient legends...have all mined the potent image of city sewers, and what might lurk within them, to create powerful narratives about the vulnerability of human life to intrusion from the wild, even in the most highly civilized and unique preserve of man, the city,” explained Ingemark. In modern times, the darkness in the city has become the wild. It is suiting then, that the dangerous and heartless Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar are likened to a fox and wolf, as “The creatures violating this quintessentially human and man-made environment are characterized as ferocious - as a potential physical threat to humans. In addition, their movements from one sphere to another...[are] as nature and culture respectively, represent a conceptual threat to social order” (Ingemark, 162). The freedom of form the modern novel has enables Gaiman to mix various subject matter to form his masterpiece in these ancient and modern versions of London.
Interestingly, where the function of escapist fiction is defined as “to draw us away from our everyday troubles, and, sometimes, to help us to fantasize ourselves as better, more important, and better off than we really are” (Longeway 1), Richard’s experiences are an example of a reverse escape. Neverwhere is escapist urban fantasy, but instead of providing a positive fantasization of himself or reality, Richard instead finds himself in a much darker and more disturbing version of London. Likewise, the audience is brought to reflect on their own perception of the world around them, questioning their everyday reality, purpose, and morality from experiencing “escape” into the alternative darkness of Neverwhere.
Because the dark underground reality houses adult themes, and violently sadistic antagonists Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar, the strong contrast between good and evil teaches us to be humane, ethical and moral: “these stories cause the ‘judgments and sentiments of others’ to echo in our minds, thus sustaining our own ability to discern the fitting and to judge actions humanely- and lending us courage in the face of moral duty” (Yeager, 477). For this to happen, it is imperative that “the modern novel, exercising the interpretative power through technique, must have a boundless freedom in the application of its methods to the stuff of human life” (Lewisohn, 459). What may be appropriate for adults to read may be overly complex for younger readers to grasp. Likewise, Neverwhere’s mixture of genres between realism, alternative reality, and escapist urban fantasy makes it difficult to direct towards a single audience. However, “What we also need to remember is the generic slippage and interchange that goes on within adult and children’s science fiction, fantasy, and horror” (Butler, 374), and allow the modern novel to explore, develop, and evolve as Richard Mayhew did through the streets of London Below.
