Expectations are a funny thing. I had middling expectations for Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, and hadn’t rushed to read (or even buy) it when it first came out. But then I saw reviews from friends who all loved it, quite uniformly so, and I found my expectations being raised.
I suspect I’d have been happier if I’d kept my expectations as they were. The Graveyard Book is entertaining, certainly, and has the sure touch in the details that I’ve come to expect from Gaiman’s works. (After all, a story about a boy raised in a graveyard by ghosts (and one other) is entirely up his alley.) But perhaps because of the deliberately episodic nature, I was underwhelmed by what there was of a plot; and since that’s what the book closes on, it can’t help but color my overall opinion.
Comparisons may be odious, but I still liked Coraline better.