Äåòàëüíàÿ èíôîðìàöèÿ îá èçäàíèè

ÍÅÇÀÊÎÍÍÎÅ ÏÎÒÐÅÁËÅÍÈÅ ÍÀÐÊÎÒÈ×ÅÑÊÈÕ ÑÐÅÄÑÒÂ; ÏÑÈÕÎÒÐÎÏÍÛÕ ÂÅÙÅÑÒÂ È ÈÕ ÀÍÀËÎÃΠÏÐÈ×ÈÍßÞÒ ÂÐÅÄ ÇÄÎÐÎÂÜÞ; ÈÕ ÍÅÇÀÊÎÍÍÛÉ ÎÁÎÐÎÒ ÇÀÏÐÅÙÅÍ È ÂËÅ×ÅÒ ÓÑÒÀÍÎÂËÅÍÍÓÞ ÇÀÊÎÍÎÄÀÒÅËÜÑÒÂÎÌ ÎÒÂÅÒÑÒÂÅÍÍÎÑÒÜ.

Titans clash, but with more fuss than fury in this fantasy demi-epic from the author of Neverwhere. The intriguing premise of Gaiman’s tale is that the gods of European yore, who came to North America with their immigrant believers, are squaring off for a rumble with new indigenous deities: «gods of credit card and freeway, of Internet and telephone, of radio and hospital and television, gods of plastic and of beeper and of neon.» They all walk around in mufti, disguised as ordinary people, which causes no end of trouble for 32-year-old protagonist Shadow Moon, who can’t turn around without bumping into a minor divinity. Released from prison the day after his beloved wife dies in a car accident, Shadow takes a job as emissary for Mr. Wednesday, avatar of the Norse god Grimnir