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Narrated by Neil Gaiman, Derek Jacobi, Robert Madge, Clare Corbett, Miriam Margolyes, Full Cast
Neil GaimanUnabridged — 8 hours, 24 minutes
Narrated by Neil Gaiman, Derek Jacobi, Robert Madge, Clare Corbett, Miriam Margolyes, Full Cast
Neil GaimanUnabridged — 8 hours, 24 minutes
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Neil Gaiman always delivers. This is the story of Bod, a boy raised in a graveyard who isn’t sure where he belongs. It’s haunty, hilarious and heartfelt and it belongs on the shelf of all young readers.
A full-cast audio edition of a perennial favorite-The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, which has sold over one million copies. Special content in this edition includes the story behind The Graveyard Book, written and performed by Neil Gaiman.
The Graveyard Book is the winner of the Newbery Medal and the Carnegie Medal (the only novel to ever win both awards), the Hugo Award for Best Novel, the Locus Award for Young Adult Book, and Audiobook of the Year. This full-cast audio edition is performed by Neil Gaiman, Derek Jacobi, Robert Madge, Clare Corbett, Miriam Margolyes, Andrew Scott, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Emilia Fox, Reece Shearsmith, Lenny Henry, Elizabeth Bennett, Allan Corduner, Sean Baker, Tim Dann, Adjoa Andoh, Jenny Gannon, Dan Weyman, and Daniel Brocklebank.
Nobody Owens, known to his friends as Bod, is a normal boy. He would be completely normal if he didn't live in a sprawling graveyard, being raised and educated by ghosts, with a solitary guardian who belongs to neither the world of the living nor of the dead. There are dangers and adventures in the graveyard for a boy. But if Bod leaves the graveyard, then he will come under attack from the man Jack - who has already killed Bod's family...
Magical, terrifying, and filled with breathtaking adventures, The Graveyard Book by beloved master storyteller Neil Gaiman is sure to enthrall listeners of all ages.
Audie Award, Distinguished Achievement in Production, 2015
The book's power lies in Gaiman's ability to bring to quirky life (pun intended) the graveyard's many denizens, including a protective vampire and a feisty medieval witch. Like a bite of dark Halloween chocolate, this novel proves rich, bittersweet and very satisfying.
—The Washington Post
The Graveyard Book, by turns exciting and witty, sinister and tender, shows Gaiman at the top of his form…The story's language and humor are sophisticated, but Gaiman respects his readers and trusts them to understand…In this novel of wonder, Neil Gaiman follows in the footsteps of long-ago storytellers, weaving a tale of unforgettable enchantment.
—The New York Times
A lavish middle-grade novel, Gaiman's first since Coraline, this gothic fantasy almost lives up to its extravagant advance billing. The opening is enthralling: "There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife." Evading the murderer who kills the rest of his family, a child roughly 18 months old climbs out of his crib, bumps his bottom down a steep stairway, walks out the open door and crosses the street into the cemetery opposite, where ghosts take him in. What mystery/horror/suspense reader could stop here, especially with Gaiman's talent for storytelling? The author riffs on the Jungle Book, folklore, nursery rhymes and history; he tosses in werewolves and hints at vampires-and he makes these figures seem like metaphors for transitions in childhood and youth. As the boy, called Nobody or Bod, grows up, the killer still stalking him, there are slack moments and some repetition-not enough to spoil a reader's pleasure, but noticeable all the same. When the chilling moments do come, they are as genuinely frightening as only Gaiman can make them, and redeem any shortcomings. Ages 10-up. (Oct.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.Gr 5-8
Somewhere in contemporary Britain, "the man Jack" uses his razor-sharp knife to murder a family, but the youngest, a toddler, slips away. The boy ends up in a graveyard, where the ghostly inhabitants adopt him to keep him safe. Nobody Owens, so named because he "looks like nobody but himself," grows up among a multigenerational cast of characters from different historical periods that includes matronly Mistress Owens; ancient Roman Caius Pompeius; an opinionated young witch; a melodramatic hack poet; and Bod's beloved mentor and guardian, Silas, who is neither living nor dead and has secrets of his own. As he grows up, Bod has a series of adventures, both in and out of the graveyard, and the threat of the man Jack who continues to hunt for him is ever present. Bod's love for his graveyard family and vice versa provide the emotional center, amid suspense, spot-on humor, and delightful scene-setting. The child Bod's behavior is occasionally too precocious to be believed, and a series of puns on the name Jack render the villain a bit less frightening than he should be, though only momentarily. Aside from these small flaws, however, Gaiman has created a rich, surprising, and sometimes disturbing tale of dreams, ghouls, murderers, trickery, and family.-Megan Honig, New York Public Library
Wistful, witty, wise-and creepy. Gaiman's riff on Kipling's Mowgli stories never falters, from the truly spine-tingling opening, in which a toddler accidentally escapes his family's murderer, to the melancholy, life-affirming ending. Bod (short for Nobody) finds solace and safety with the inhabitants of the local graveyard, who grant him some of the privileges and powers of the dead-he can Fade and Dreamwalk, for instance, but still needs to eat and breathe. Episodic chapters tell miniature gems of stories (one has been nominated for a Locus Award) tracing Bod's growth from a spoiled boy who runs away with the ghouls to a young man for whom the metaphor of setting out into the world becomes achingly real. Childhood fears take solid shape in the nursery-rhyme-inspired villains, while heroism is its own, often bitter, reward. Closer in tone to American Gods than to Coraline, but permeated with Bod's innocence, this needs to be read by anyone who is or has ever been a child. (Illustrations not seen.) (Fantasy. 10 & up)
The Graveyard Book, by turns exciting and witty, sinister and tender, shows Gaiman at the top of his form. In this novel of wonder, Neil Gaiman follows in the footsteps of long-ago storytellers, weaving a tale of unforgettable enchantment.” — New York Times Book Review
“Like a bite of dark Halloween chocolate, this novel proves rich, bittersweet and very satisfying.” — Washington Post
“Wistful, witty, wise—and creepy. This needs to be read by anyone who is or has ever been a child.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“This is an utterly captivating tale that is cleverly told through an entertaining cast of ghostly characters. There is plenty of darkness, but the novel’s ultimate message is strong and life affirming….this is a rich story with broad appeal. ” — Booklist (starred review)
“Lucid, evocative prose and dark fairy-tale motifs imbue the story with a dreamlike quality. …this ghost-story-cum-coming-of-age-novel as readable as it is accomplished.” — Horn Book (starred review)
“This is, quite frankly, the best book Neil Gaiman has ever written. How he has managed to combine fascinating, friendly, frightening and fearsome in one fantasy I shall never know, but he has pulled it off magnificently - perfect for Halloween and any other time of the year.” — Diana Wynne Jones, author of The Chronicles of Chrestomanci
“I wish my younger self could have had the opportunity to read and re-read this wonderful book, and my older self wishes that I had written it.” — Garth Nix, author of The Abhorsen Trilogy
“It takes a graveyard to raise a child. My favorite thing about this book was watching Bod grow up in his fine crumbly graveyard with his dead and living friends. The Graveyard Book is another surprising and terrific book from Neil Gaiman.” — Audrey Niffenegger, author of The Time Traveler's Wife
“After finishing The Graveyard Book, I had only one thought — I hope there’s more. I want to see more of the adventures of Nobody Owens, and there is no higher praise for a book.” — Laurell K. Hamilton, author of the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter novels
“The Graveyard Book is endlessly inventive, masterfully told and, like Bod himself, too clever to fit into only one place. This is a book for everyone. You will love it to death.” — Holly Black, co–creator of The Spiderwick Chronicles
“The Graveyard Book manages the remarkable feat of playing delightful jazz riffs on Kipling’s classic Jungle Books. One might call this book a small jewel, but in fact it’s much bigger within than it looks from the outside.” — Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn
The Graveyard Book is everything everyone loves about Neil Gaiman, only multiplied many times over, a novel that showcases his effortless feel for narrative, his flawless instincts for suspense, and above all, his dark, almost silky sense of humor. — Joe Hill, author of Heart–Shaped Box
This is an utterly captivating tale that is cleverly told through an entertaining cast of ghostly characters. There is plenty of darkness, but the novel’s ultimate message is strong and life affirming….this is a rich story with broad appeal.
This is, quite frankly, the best book Neil Gaiman has ever written. How he has managed to combine fascinating, friendly, frightening and fearsome in one fantasy I shall never know, but he has pulled it off magnificently - perfect for Halloween and any other time of the year.
I wish my younger self could have had the opportunity to read and re-read this wonderful book, and my older self wishes that I had written it.
Like a bite of dark Halloween chocolate, this novel proves rich, bittersweet and very satisfying.
It takes a graveyard to raise a child. My favorite thing about this book was watching Bod grow up in his fine crumbly graveyard with his dead and living friends. The Graveyard Book is another surprising and terrific book from Neil Gaiman.
The Graveyard Book is endlessly inventive, masterfully told and, like Bod himself, too clever to fit into only one place. This is a book for everyone. You will love it to death.
The Graveyard Book, by turns exciting and witty, sinister and tender, shows Gaiman at the top of his form. In this novel of wonder, Neil Gaiman follows in the footsteps of long-ago storytellers, weaving a tale of unforgettable enchantment.
Lucid, evocative prose and dark fairy-tale motifs imbue the story with a dreamlike quality. …this ghost-story-cum-coming-of-age-novel as readable as it is accomplished.
After finishing The Graveyard Book, I had only one thought — I hope there’s more. I want to see more of the adventures of Nobody Owens, and there is no higher praise for a book.
Like a bite of dark Halloween chocolate, this novel proves rich, bittersweet and very satisfying.
The Graveyard Book is everything everyone loves about Neil Gaiman, only multiplied many times over, a novel that showcases his effortless feel for narrative, his flawless instincts for suspense, and above all, his dark, almost silky sense of humor.
The invention of immortal folk who readers feel they might like to kick back with may be this prolific, tousle-haired, ex-pat British author’s contribution to world literature.
The Graveyard Book feels like the careful work of an old craftsman.
It’s hard to think of a more delightful and scary place to spend 300 pages.
This brief, dark, savoury adventure deserves to become a modern classic of children’s writing: it has more mystery, excitement and wisdom in a single chapter than all the soap-operatic dilemmas, empty acrobatics and moral dogmatism in those thousands of pages of Potter franchise.
The Graveyard Book confirms what I’ve always thought: Neil Gaiman is a literary genius!
The Graveyard Book manages the remarkable feat of playing delightful jazz riffs on Kipling’s classic Jungle Books. One might call this book a small jewel, but in fact it’s much bigger within than it looks from the outside.
The invention of immortal folk who readers feel they might like to kick back with may be this prolific, tousle-haired, ex-pat British author’s contribution to world literature.
This is an utterly captivating tale that is cleverly told through an entertaining cast of ghostly characters. There is plenty of darkness, but the novel’s ultimate message is strong and life affirming….this is a rich story with broad appeal.
Lucid, evocative prose and dark fairy-tale motifs imbue the story with a dreamlike quality. …this ghost-story-cum-coming-of-age-novel as readable as it is accomplished.
After finishing The Graveyard Book, I had only one thought — I hope there’s more. I want to see more of the adventures of Nobody Owens, and there is no higher praise for a book.
"Lucid, evocative prose and dark fairy-tale motifs imbue the story with a dreamlike quality. …this ghost-story-cum-coming-of-age-novel as readable as it is accomplished."
"This is an utterly captivating tale that is cleverly told through an entertaining cast of ghostly characters. There is plenty of darkness, but the novel’s ultimate message is strong and life affirming….this is a rich story with broad appeal. "
Neil Gaiman is one of the true gems in the audio industry. He’s a great writer who not only reads his own work well, but makes the listener reject any thought of having another narrator in his stead. Gaiman communicates his understanding of his own stories and characters from beginning to end. In this latest of Gaiman's clever, dark fantasies, an orphaned boy is raised by ghosts in the local graveyard. Gaiman gives each specter a different—and wholly appropriate—voice, but he doesn't stop there. He even goes so far as to change a character's accent ever so slightly after she comes back from years and years abroad. Best of all, Gaiman performs a shift of character voice that is an absolute showstopper when he reveals the villain. Really—it made this listener stop dead on her walk home in dreadful anticipation. A.H.A. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award, 2009 Audies Winner © AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine
| BN ID: | 2940172921346 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HarperCollins Publishers |
| Publication date: | 09/30/2014 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Sales rank: | 409,702 |
| Age Range: | 10 - 13 Years |
Graveyard Book, The MSR
Chapter One
How Nobody Came to the Graveyard
There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.
The knife had a handle of polished black bone, and a blade finer and sharper than any razor. If it sliced you, you might not even know you had been cut, not immediately.
The knife had done almost everything it was brought to that house to do, and both the blade and the handle were wet.
The street door was still open, just a little, where the knife and the man who held it had slipped in, and wisps of nighttime mist slithered and twined into the house through the open door.
The man Jack paused on the landing. With his left hand he pulled a large white handkerchief from the pocket of his black coat, and with it he wiped off the knife and his gloved right hand which had been holding it; then he put the handkerchief away. The hunt was almost over. He had left the woman in her bed, the man on the bedroom floor, the older child in her brightly colored bedroom, surrounded by toys and half-finished models. That only left the little one, a baby barely a toddler, to take care of. One more and his task would be done.
He flexed his fingers. The man Jack was, above all things, a professional, or so he told himself, and he would not allow himself to smile until the job was completed.
His hair was dark and his eyes were dark and he wore black leather gloves of the thinnest lambskin.
The toddler's room was at the very top of the house. The man Jack walked up the stairs, his feet silent on the carpeting. Then he pushed open the attic door, and he walked in. His shoes were black leather, and they werepolished to such a shine that they looked like dark mirrors: you could see the moon reflected in them, tiny and half full.
The real moon shone through the casement window. Its light was not bright, and it was diffused by the mist, but the man Jack would not need much light. The moonlight was enough. It would do.
He could make out the shape of the child in the crib, head and limbs and torso.
The crib had high, slatted sides to prevent the child from getting out. Jack leaned over, raised his right hand, the one holding the knife, and he aimed for the chest . . .
. . . and then he lowered his hand. The shape in the crib was a teddy bear. There was no child.
The man Jack's eyes were accustomed to the dim moonlight, so he had no desire to turn on an electric light. And light was not that important, after all. He had other skills.
The man Jack sniffed the air. He ignored the scents that had come into the room with him, dismissed the scents that he could safely ignore, honed in on the smell of the thing he had come to find. He could smell the child: a milky smell, like chocolate chip cookies, and the sour tang of a wet, disposable, nighttime diaper. He could smell the baby shampoo in its hair, and something small and rubbery...a toy, he thought, and then, no, something to suck...that the child had been carrying.
The child had been here. It was here no longer. The man Jack followed his nose down the stairs through the middle of the tall, thin house. He inspected the bathroom, the kitchen, the airing cupboard, and, finally, the downstairs hall, in which there was nothing to be seen but the family's bicycles, a pile of empty shopping bags, a fallen diaper, and the stray tendrils of fog that had insinuated themselves into the hall from the open door to the street.
The man Jack made a small noise then, a grunt that contained in it both frustration and also satisfaction. He slipped the knife into its sheath in the inside pocket of his long coat, and he stepped out into the street. There was moonlight, and there were streetlights, but the fog stifled everything, muted light and muffled sound and made the night shadowy and treacherous. He looked down the hill towards the light of the closed shops, then up the street, where the last high houses wound up the hill on their way to the darkness of the old graveyard.
The man Jack sniffed the air. Then, without hurrying, he began to walk up the hill.
Ever since the child had learned to walk he had been his mother's and father's despair and delight, for there never was such a boy for wandering, for climbing up things, for getting into and out of things. That night, he had been woken by the sound of something on the floor beneath him falling with a crash. Awake, he soon became bored, and had begun looking for a way out of his crib. It had high sides, like the walls of his playpen downstairs, but he was convinced that he could scale it. All he needed was a step . . .
He pulled his large, golden teddy bear into the corner of the crib, then, holding the railing in his tiny hands, he put his foot onto the bear's lap, the other foot up on the bear's head, and he pulled himself up into a standing position, and then he half-climbed, half-toppled over the railing and out of the crib.
He landed with a muffled thump on a small mound of furry, fuzzy toys, some of them presents from relations from his first birthday, not six months gone, some of them inherited from his older sister. He was surprised when he hit the floor, but he did not cry out: if you cried they came and put you back in your crib.
He crawled out of the room.
Graveyard Book, The MSR. Copyright © by Neil Gaiman. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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