“You’re heading for I-90,” said Wednesday. “Follow the signs west for Madison.”*
That’s a route I’ve driven many, many times. And there are quite a few other familiar places in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, one of my favorite books. What’s not to like about a story that takes you all around the vast Midwestern wasteland, to places where the old gods have been living for all these years, and to an inevitable clash between the old and the new?
I’ve mentioned before that I am nobody’s fangirl, and that I really don’t have much emotional investment in anything that I’m not personally involved with. I don’t rabidly adore any sports team or celebrities. My only slight departure from this was going to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show fifty-plus times (heh, you didn’t know that about me, did you), but that was more about hanging out with my
psycho emotionally-invested friends than being truly involved myself. I helped a couple of people sew some pretty authentic-looking costumes (you didn’t know I could sew, and actually very well, either, did you) and that was really my biggest fun. Oh, and time warping, but only people with no soul would think that time warping is not fun.
Like many who have lived in this sector of the vast Midwestern wasteland for any length of time, I’ve visited the House on the Rock. It was sort of unintentional as the destination on that trip was supposed to be Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin. I did end up at the intended destination, but was definitely glad to have taken the detour to see the strangeness and the wonder of the House on the Rock.
Wasn’t it worth it, worth anything, to say that you had ridden on the World’s Largest Carousel?*
The World’s Largest Carousel is one of the attractions at the House on the Rock, and plays an important role in American Gods. Normally, no one is allowed to ride the carousel, but reportedly a few lucky attendees of the American Gods weekend will be able to do just that.
Like I said, I am nobody’s fangirl. But if I could ride the World’s Largest Carousel, that might even change.
*from American Gods © 2001 by Neil Gaiman
(NaBloPoMo | April ’10: 6 of 30)