Neil Gaiman Young Readers' Collection

by Neil Gaiman

  “That’s nice, dear,” said Miss Spink. Then she added confidentially, “Make sure you keep an eye out for the old well. Mister Lovat, who was here before your time, said that he thought it might go down for half a mile or more.”

  Coraline hoped that the hand had not heard this last, and she changed the subject. “This key?” said Coraline loudly. “Oh, it’s just some old key from our house. It’s part of my game. That’s why I’m carrying it around with me on this piece of string. Well, good-bye now.”

  “What an extraordinary child,” said Miss Spink to herself as she closed the door.

  Coraline ambled across the meadow toward the old tennis court, dangling and swinging the black key on its piece of string as she walked.

  Several times she thought she saw something the color of bone in the undergrowth. It was keeping pace with her, about thirty feet away.

  She tried to whistle, but nothing happened, so she sang out loud instead, a song her father had made up for her when she was a little baby and which had always made her laugh. It went,

  Oh—my twitchy witchy girl

  I think you are so nice,

  I give you bowls of porridge

  And I give you bowls of ice

  Cream.

  I give you lots of kisses,

  And I give you lots of hugs,

  But I never give you sandwiches

  With bugs

  In.

  That was what she sang as she sauntered through the woods, and her voice hardly trembled at all.

  The dolls’ tea party was where she had left it. She was relieved that it was not a windy day, for everything was still in its place, every water-filled plastic cup weighed down the paper tablecloth as it was meant to. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Now was the hardest part.

  “Hello dolls,” she said brightly. “It’s teatime!”

  She walked close to the paper tablecloth. “I brought the lucky key,” she told the dolls, “to make sure we have a good picnic.”

  And then, as carefully as she could, she leaned over and, gently, placed the key on the tablecloth. She was still holding on to the string. She held her breath, hoping that the cups of water at the edges of the well would weigh the cloth down, letting it take the weight of the key without collapsing into the well.

  The key sat in the middle of the paper picnic cloth. Coraline let go of the string, and took a step back. Now it was all up to the hand.

  She turned to her dolls.

  “Who would like a piece of cherry cake?” she asked. “Jemima? Pinky? Primrose?” and she served each doll a slice of invisible cake on an invisible plate, chattering happily as she did so.

  From the corner of her eye she saw something bone white scamper from one tree trunk to another, closer and closer. She forced herself not to look at it.

  “Jemima!” said Coraline. “What a bad girl you are! You’ve dropped your cake! Now I’ll have to go over and get you a whole new slice!” And she walked around the tea party until she was on the other side of it to the hand. She pretended to clean up spilled cake, and to get Jemima another piece.

  And then, in a skittering, chittering rush, it came. The hand, running high on its fingertips, scrabbled through the tall grass and up onto a tree stump. It stood there for a moment, like a crab tasting the air, and then it made one triumphant, nail-clacking leap onto the center of the paper tablecloth.

  Time slowed for Coraline. The white fingers closed around the black key….

  And then the weight and the momentum of the hand sent the plastic dolls’ cups flying, and the paper tablecloth, the key, and the other mother’s right hand went tumbling down into the darkness of the well.

  Coraline counted slowly under her breath. She got up to forty before she heard a muffled splash coming from a long way below.

  Someone had once told her that if you look up at the sky from the bottom of a mine shaft, even in the brightest daylight, you see a night sky and stars. Coraline wondered if the hand could see stars from where it was.

  She hauled the heavy planks back onto the well, covering it as carefully as she could. She didn’t want anything to fall in. She didn’t want anything ever to get out.

  Then she put her dolls and the cups back in the cardboard box she had carried them out in. Something caught her eye while she was doing this, and she straightened up in time to see the black cat stalking toward her, its tail held high and curling at the tip like a question mark. It was the first time she had seen the cat in several days, since they had returned together from the other mother’s place.

  The cat walked over to her and jumped up onto the planks that covered the well. Then, slowly, it winked one eye at her.

  It sprang down into the long grass in front of her, and rolled over onto its back, wiggling about ecstatically.

  Coraline scratched and tickled the soft fur on its belly, and the cat purred contentedly. When it had had enough it rolled over onto its front once more and walked back toward the tennis court, like a tiny patch of midnight in the midday sun.

  Coraline went back to the house.

  Mr. Bobo was waiting for her in the driveway. He clapped her on the shoulder.

  “The mice tell me that all is good,” he said. “They say that you are our savior, Caroline.”

  “It’s Coraline, Mister Bobo,” said Coraline. “Not Caroline. Coraline.”

  “Coraline,” said Mr. Bobo, repeating her name to himself with wonderment and respect. “Very good, Coraline. The mice say that I must tell you that as soon as they are ready to perform in public, you will come up and watch them as the first audience of all. They will play tumpty umpty and toodle oodle, and they will dance, and do a thousand tricks. That is what is they say.”

  “I would like that very much,” said Coraline. “When they’re ready.”

  She knocked at Miss Spink and Miss Forcible’s door. Miss Spink let her in and Coraline went into their parlor. She put her box of dolls down on the floor. Then she put her hand into her pocket and pulled out the stone with the hole in it.

  “Here you go,” she said. “I don’t need it anymore. I’m very grateful. I think it may have saved my life, and saved some other people’s death.”

  She gave them both tight hugs, although her arms barely stretched around Miss Spink, and Miss Forcible smelled like the raw garlic she had been cutting. Then Coraline picked up her box of dolls and went out.

  “What an extraordinary child,” said Miss Spink. No one had hugged her like that since she had retired from the theater.

  That night Coraline lay in bed, all bathed, teeth cleaned, with her eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.

  It was warm enough that, now that the hand was gone, she had opened her bedroom window wide. She had insisted to her father that the curtains not be entirely closed.

  Her new school clothes were laid out carefully on her chair for her to put on when she woke.

  Normally, on the night before the first day of term, Coraline was apprehensive and nervous. But, she realized, there was nothing left about school that could scare her anymore.

  She fancied she could hear sweet music on the night air: the kind of music that can only be played on the tiniest silver trombones and trumpets and bassoons, on piccolos and tubas so delicate and small that their keys could only be pressed by the tiny pink fingers of white mice.

  Coraline imagined that she was back again in her dream, with the two girls and the boy under the oak tree in the meadow, and she smiled.

  As the first stars came out Coraline finally allowed herself to drift into sleep, while the gentle upstairs music of the mouse circus spilled out onto the warm evening air, telling the world that the summer was almost done.

  Coraline

  Tenth Anniversary Edition

  The Coraline Reading Group Guide

  A Coraline Q&A with Neil Gaiman

  Coraline Reading Group Guide

  About the Book

  Coraline’s parents are too busy to play with her. She
’s on her own, and when she goes exploring in her new apartment she unlocks a door that leads to a different world. At first it looks familiar, even intriguing, but Coraline quickly learns that evil lurks there. Soon, Coraline is caught in a life or death challenge—to save herself, her family, and three lost children. It is an experience that will forever change her.

  Discussion Questions

  1. Describe Coraline. What kind of a person is she? How does she like to spend her time?

  2. How is Coraline treated by her parents? Who are the other adults in Coraline’s life and how do they treat her? What is the difference between how she is treated in the real world and the other world?

  3. Before entering the other world, Coraline receives ominous warnings about her future. What are the warnings and from whom does she receive them? What do the messages mean?

  4. When Coraline unlocks the door to the neighboring flat she knows she is doing something she is not supposed to (this page). But she does it anyway. Why? What are the consequences? Have you ever done something you knew you were not supposed to? How did this make you feel? What were the consequences of your actions?

  5. When Coraline discovers her parents are missing, she calls the police (this page). What does she tell the officer? How does he respond? Why? How would you respond if you were the officer? Why? What would you have done if you were in Coraline’s situation?

  6. How does Coraline define bravery (this page)? In what ways does Coraline demonstrate bravery? What is your definition of bravery?

  7. The other mother tells Coraline: “We’re ready to love you and play with you and feed you and make your life interesting” (this page). How is Coraline’s life with her other family different from life with her real family? What does Coraline find appealing about life in the other world? What family would you choose? Why?

  8. Coraline’s other mother tells her that if she wants to stay in the other world there is one thing she must do. What is it? What effect will it have on her?

  9. Why does the other mother want Coraline? What does the cat think about this (this page)? Why has she taken the other children and Coralne’s parents?

  10. Miss Spink and Miss Forcible give Coraline a special stone (this page). Why? What does the stone look like? What special power does the stone have? How does Coraline use it?

  11. What challenge does Coraline present to her other mother (this page)? What will happen if she loses? What will happen if she wins? What makes her think winning is possible? Do you think this challenge is wise? Why or why not?

  12. Do the mirrors Coraline encounters in the real world and the other world reflect reality or illusion? How do you know? What is the significance of mirrors in Coraline?

  13. When Coraline finds her other father in the basement he tells her to flee (this page). When she refuses he turns on her, and tries to harm her. How does Coraline respond? What happens as a result?

  14. Coraline explains to the old man upstairs, “I don’t want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if we just got everything we wanted? Just like that, and it didn’t mean anything. What then” (this page)? Do you agree or disagree with Coraline? Explain your thinking. How would you respond to her question?

  15. How does Coraline’s life change when she returns to the real world with her parents? What does Coraline learn from the experience of being in the other world?

  16. After Coraline returns to the real world she receives clues that the other mother’s work is not done. What are they? How does Coraline foil the other mother once and for all?

  A Coraline Q&A with Neil Gaiman

  In 2002, Neil Gaiman answered the first set of questions below about his brand-new book for young readers, Coraline. In the second section, ten years later, Neil reflects on a decade of his magical classic and answers some special new anniversary questions.

  How did you think up the name “Coraline”?

  I was typing “Caroline” and it was coming out wrong. Larry Niven, the science fiction author, said in an essay that writers should treasure their typing mistakes. Once I typed it, I knew it was somebody’s name, and I wanted to know what happened to her.

  I recently discovered it was actually a real name, although it’s not been used much in English-speaking countries for a long time. And, at the turn of the century, it was a name for a brand of corset.

  Coraline is called a fairy tale. Do you really believe in fairies?

  Well, the only fairy in Coraline has been dead for hundreds of years, and some people read the book and never notice her at all. Coraline’s a fairy tale in the same way that “Hansel and Gretel” is a fairy tale.

  As for believing in fairies…many years ago I wrote the copyright notice for a comic called The Books of Magic, in which I said words to the effect of “All the characters, human or otherwise, are imaginary, excepting only certain of the faerie folk, whom it might be unwise to offend by casting doubts on their existence. Or lack thereof.” A position I still wholeheartedly support and defend.

  Did your parents insist on cooking “recipes” rather than regular food?

  Actually, it was me who did that, and I stole that aspect of Coraline from my son, Mike, when he was young, and still called Mikey. If ever I made anything adventurous he’d shake his head and say, “Dad, you’ve made a recipe, haven’t you?” and he’d head off to the freezer compartment to find a box of microwavable French fries.

  Whenever we’d go out to eat he’d order peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, until one day a waiter persuaded him to explore the rest of the menu, and he’s never looked back.

  How did you deal with long, boring, rainy days during the school holidays?

  Well, on the good ones I’d get someone to drop me off at the local library, and I’d read. On the bad ones I’d stare out of the window and wonder what to do, and eventually wind up rereading the Narnia books.

  What was the door that you were most scared to go through?

  Well, Coraline’s door really was in the “drawing room” of our house. The house, long since knocked down, had been divided into two, and behind the door at the far end of the room was a red-brick wall. I was never certain there would always be a brick wall there, though.

  Are things really magical, or do you make them magical by believing in them?

  I think most things are pretty magical, and that it’s less a matter of belief than it is one of just stopping to notice.

  What is the biggest key you have on your key ring and what does it open?

  When I was boy I collected keys, for no real reason I could explain, and somewhere in the attic I still have a box filled with them, keys of all sizes and shapes and designs.

  There aren’t any fun ones on the everyday key ring, though: the biggest opens the cabin, overlooking the lake, where I go and write each day. The cabin doesn’t have a phone, which helps.

  What chocolate do you eat first if you’re given a whole box?

  In a perfect world, I would first identify the chocolates from the Identify Your Chocolate guide and eat something with a name like “Caramel Surprise.” In the real world, I tend normally to accidentally pull out the chocolate truffles. By the way, I cannot see the point of “tangerine crèmes.”

  Why do the batteries in things always run out just when you really need them?

  It’s one of the rules. I don’t try and explain them. I just live here.

  Did you let your children read Coraline before anyone else?

  Well, I read it to Maddy, who was six when I finished it; and I forgot to give it to Holly (who is sixteen), so she just read it. “I hope you weren’t too old for it,” I told her, when she was done. “I don’t think you can be too old for Coraline,” she said, which made me very happy.

  What is your favorite time of day?

  Really, really early in the morning, just as the sun is coming up. I don’t see it too often, but I love it when I do.

  Have you ever had your future told?

  Once
, while waiting for a theater to open in New York, by an old woman. She told me I would die on an island. It hasn’t happened yet.

  Will there be a film of Coraline?

  Quite possibly. The film rights have been bought, and Henry Selick, who is most famous for directing The Nightmare Before Christmas and James and the Giant Peach, has written the script and plans to direct it.

  So many of my stories have been bought by Hollywood that I’ve long since stopped expecting any of them to actually happen, and will simply be pleasantly surprised if any of them actually do.

  Will you write another children’s book?

  Yes. The next one I want to write has a working title of The Graveyard Book.

  Ten years of Coraline: Special Anniversary Questions

  Looking back on ten years of Coraline, what surprises you the most about how the book has been and continues to be received?

  That people love it, really. I thought it was much too odd and scary to be loved by anyone but me, and possibly my kids. I love that people, male and female and of all ages, identify with Coraline.

  Throughout the last decade, Coraline has become a celebrated magical, literary classic and has now also successfully transitioned into both film and theater. Why do you think Coraline has been able to accomplish such a rare feat?

  Coraline was published in 2002, illustrated by Dave McKean, and she went out into the world, accompanied by Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, not to mention her Other Mother, and scared many adults and fewer children. I was proud of her, proud of them all. And then I was able to gaze on, still proud but less immediately so, as I watched her transmute into an animated character in Henry Selick’s marvelous film, into an actress on a stage in Stephin Merritt’s haunting musical, into beautiful lines on paper in P. Craig Russell’s graphic novel. I do not know why it has worked so well, nor why it has changed its shape while never changing its essence. I think it’s because, at the end of the day (which is twilit and is about the time when the bats come out), it is not a story about fear, but one about bravery. After all, if a dragon is going to be defeated, it should be worth the fight, and the thing that calls herself the Other Mother is that.