This is a story about childhood, memory and magic. It had an incredible potential, just look at the topics I had just mentioned! But it was a very painful read. I'm giving it two stars because I liked the blurry line between fantasy and reality, but apart from that, the plot is dull, the fantasy-world creation is mediocre and the creatures were not impressive at all.
Here is the thing: when you finish this book, you have to make a choice, a choice you have been pushing away during the whole book. Is what George tell us true or is he, as a child, an unreliable narrator? Of course, as a grand lover of reality, I picked the second option. But Gaiman wasn't letting me choose freely. If someone wanted to believe that all that had happened was true and the world had these weird, useless creatures going around, they would feel a deep void when they close the book.
What I'm trying to say, without giving away to much, is that the events that took place in this story made no sense, they were pointless.
It could have been a lot better if the fantasy world would have been different. At least, if it was a world with some cohesion. I get that a seven-year-old boy (if he made everything up as I think)can make a world without rules, but I don't see the point in telling the story then.
What bothers me more than anything is that George, now a grown up man doesn't even question himself about it at the end.
I was expecting a lot more about this one, and the only thing that I've got is a huge disappointment. I think that I won't read another Gaiman's book ever again.