Audiobook Sample
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- Title: Coraline
- Author: Neil Gaiman
- Narrator: Neil Gaiman
- Length: 03:38:00
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 11/11/2003
- Publisher: HarperCollins
- Genre: Kids, Health & Family, Mystery & Fantasy
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
There’s something magical about hearing a story told by its creator – like being invited into a master chef’s kitchen to taste a dish straight from their hands. Neil Gaiman’s narration of his modern classic “Coraline” is exactly this kind of intimate, unforgettable experience. As someone who’s spent years collecting stories from grandmothers in Oaxaca to fishermen in Lisbon, I can tell you there’s an alchemy that happens when the right voice meets the right tale.
Listening to “Coraline” while driving through the misty Pacific Northwest last autumn, I found myself pulling over repeatedly – not just to savor Gaiman’s deliciously creepy delivery, but because the landscape outside my window had begun mirroring the story’s eerie beauty. That’s the power of this audiobook: it doesn’t just tell you a story, it transplants you into Coraline’s world with all the immediacy of a childhood memory you can’t quite shake.
Gaiman’s performance is a masterclass in restrained storytelling. He understands the spaces between words matter as much as the words themselves – a lesson I learned from those Oaxacan grandmothers who knew when to let silence do the talking. His Other Mother voice isn’t some over-the-top villainous cackle, but a terrifyingly sweet purr that makes your skin prickle. When he describes the button eyes, his voice takes on this detached quality that’s somehow more disturbing than any dramatic reading could be.
The story itself unfolds like a Russian nesting doll of childhood fears and triumphs. What appears at first glance to be a simple creepy tale reveals layers about bravery, family, and the masks people wear. Gaiman’s prose – already exquisite on the page – gains new dimensions in audio format. The description of the empty flat where the Other Mother lives took on new resonance for me; it reminded me of arriving at my grandmother’s house after she’d passed, how familiar spaces become alien when the life goes out of them.
As a travel writer, I’m particularly struck by how Gaiman builds his settings. The ‘other’ house isn’t just described – it’s conjured through subtle audio cues in Gaiman’s narration. You can almost feel the slightly-too-soft carpet underfoot, smell the faintly off meals the Other Mother prepares. It’s this sensory richness that makes the horror elements land with such impact. The moment when Coraline realizes what’s behind the mirror isn’t just scary – it’s the kind of fear that lingers in your peripheral vision, like something moving just out of sight in a dark room.
What makes this audiobook truly special is how Gaiman understands the rhythm of oral storytelling. He knows exactly when to speed up during chase sequences, when to draw out a pause for maximum dread. The chapter where Coraline explores the theater of trapped children still haunts me – not just for its content, but for how Gaiman’s voice seems to multiply in the empty spaces, as if the Other Mother herself were whispering along.
If I had one critique, it’s that the audio production is almost too minimalist. While Gaiman’s voice needs no embellishment, some subtle sound design during key moments (like the scuttling of the Other Mother’s hand) could have elevated the experience further. That said, there’s something to be said for the purity of a single voice telling a campfire tale – and Gaiman proves himself a master of this ancient art.
For listeners who enjoy “Coraline”, I’d recommend following it with Gaiman’s “The Graveyard Book” (also narrated by the author) or “Wait Till Helen Comes” by Mary Downing Hahn for similarly chilling childhood stories. But “Coraline” stands apart for its perfect balance of fright and heart – a reminder that the bravest adventures often happen just beyond familiar doors.
Having spent my life chasing stories across continents, I can say few experiences compare to hearing a master storyteller perform their own work. “Coraline” in particular gains new power in audio form – the creaks and whispers of Gaiman’s voice become part of the story’s fabric. It’s the kind of performance that doesn’t just entertain, but settles into your bones, much like Coraline’s adventure settles into hers. And isn’t that what all the best stories do – change us a little, even as we return safely home?
With stories to tell and roads yet to travel,
Marcus Rivera
