NEIL GAIMAN IN THE FURIES’ AMBIT

BRITISH CELEBRITY, INTERNATIONAL LITERARY ROCKSTAR, AND AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR NEIL GAIMAN IS A CHARMER. This was very obvious during his three successful book tours in the Philippines (2005; 2007; 2010) sponsored by a bookstore chain; Gaiman is reportedly a good friend of the Filipino bookstore owner.  

There was even a writing competition that was organized with the help of Gaiman, the bookstore owner, and a prestigious Philippine magazine. The competition featured works of fiction in both the prose and comics genres. The contest was held thrice and did create considerable buzz among Filipino readers and writers from both genres. In order to get an idea how Gaiman’s visits were received by Filipino fans, here’s a description from an article on the GMA News website:

“Fans line up for hours just to see him, unmindful of the discomfort such an ordeal takes. Girls swoon at the sight of him. Boys sing paeans to him. Many of them try to duplicate his magic with their own pens. This kind of reception is rarely associated with writers, but for Neil Gaiman, literary rock star that he is, Filipino fans will do anything. At the Rockwell Tent in Makati City Wednesday night, hundreds of fans queued as early as 4 in the afternoon to attend the 3rd Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards, where Gaiman, the man behind the popular Sandman graphic novels, was a special guest. Most, if not all, were hoping to be among the 100 lucky people who will have their Gaiman books and graphic novels signed by the celebrated British author. It was Gaiman’s third visit to the Philippines, and the audience, old and new alike, erupted into giddy screams when he finally went onstage, wearing his customary black jacket. For this particular event, Gaiman was garbed with the same jacket he wore at the Oscars.” (“Sandman Creator Neil Gaiman Wows Pinoys Again”, by Carmela G. Lapeña)

Gaiman has so much rizz, apparently, that he attracts fans who are emotionally (and psychologically, even sexually) vulnerable. And allegedly, Gaiman has used that same charisma to target and abuse quite a number of women–at least nine of them, according to an article by journalist Lila Shapiro. So many fans have disavowed the British writer already, emphatically identifying themselves as former or ex-fans. Shapiro’s online article published on Vulture online magazine (a sister publication of the The New Yorker and has also published the same exact story) is a horrifying, scathing, eye-opening, and heartbreaking portrait of Gaiman that has both disillusioned and divided the Gaiman fandom. 

Even just scanning a Facebook group like “The Sandman”, patiently and heroically moderated by Amanda Pike, shows how angry and emotional Gaiman’s fans have become in the wake not only of Shapiro’s story but also the airing of the Tortoise podcast that originally broke the story of Gaiman’s alleged sexual abuse  of multiple women. The shockwave of the controversy has, unsurprisingly, reached Gaiman’s Filipino fandom.

FALLEN IDOL

As of this writing, no criminal nor civil case has been filed by any of Gaiman’s alleged victims—however, according to Shapiro’s story, one of the victims, Scarlett Pavlovich, the former nanny employed by Gaiman’s wife Amanda Palmer, did file a police report in January 2023, alleging the sexual assault on her by Gaiman.  This was with the New Zealand police—and the case was dropped, reportedly, due to non-cooperation from Gaiman’s wife, singer-songwriter-musician Amanda Palmer; Gaiman reportedly sent a written statement to police authorities.  By that time, divorce proceedings were already ongoing between Gaiman and Palmer. 

Pavlovich, who is an aspiring singer and actress, had met Amanda Palmer first in 2019 and they became friends. Eventually, in 2022, Palmer offered Pavlovich a job as nanny to her son (her first and only son with Gaiman).  It did not take long before, according to Pavlovich, Gaiman sexually assaulted her.  Her being friends with Palmer—already fed up, separated from, and formally divorcing Gaiman-–made the situation even more complicated.

Anyone who reads Shapiro’s report has no choice but to view Gaiman as a sick, sick man, a sexual predator. And  Gaiman reportedly targeted multiple women for years. No wonder, then, that his many fans, including his Filipino fans, feel betrayed and heart-broken. It’s quite hard to believe that Gaiman, who has been one of the most outspoken celebrity feminists since the 1990s, would turn out to be yet another sexual predator who used his charisma, fame, wealth, and the adoration of fans, to cover up his horrible acts towards the very women whom he claimed to ally himself.

How can his Filipino fans move on, then, from the shock, outrage, and betrayal they are currently feeling?

BROKEN DREAM

What follows is not my attempt to argue that Gaiman is guilty of the alleged sexual assault or abuse. Neither is it an effort to psychoanalyze him and somehow justify his behavior towards the women, his former lovers, who are now his accusers. Rather, it is my speculative response and re-reading or re-interpretation of some creative choices, characterizations, and plot points in some of Gaiman’s work, all in light of the present allegations. The question of whether he is guilty or not is better left to the courts.

Now, as for the women making the allegations, yes, they ought to tell their story and we all ought to listen to them. No matter how many times Gaiman denies the core of their accusations—that he assaulted them by performing sex acts on them without their consent—what’s clear is that *something* happened between them that hurt or even traumatized these women. The resolution of that issue is beyond us—and is in the hands of Gaiman and the women themselves.

I can only respond as a reader, as well as a writer, whose formation, personal and professional, had been influenced considerably by Gaiman’s work. And to respond is all that I can do.

For many fans of authors and other artists, perhaps, particularly those who love the fantasy genre, their experience of art—literary or otherwise—can be a life-altering, even life-and-sanity-saving experience. This is especially true if such fans are in their formative, teenage years when they are trying to understand the world and make their way through it. And this would also be true for even older fans of Gaiman’s work who may be gay, transgender, or for other reasons feel rejected, misunderstood, and isolated. 

Yes, some kind of psychic transference (it’s a term used in psychoanalysis: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/transference) can occur between readers and their favorite author.  And of course, the more charming the author, the more famous, the more celebrated, such transference can become powerful. 

Gaiman, being so full of rizz as he was, thus had a lot of power over the more vulnerable among his fans. And, of course, as the superhero aphorism says, Gaiman (wealthy, famous, and influential) should have wielded this power more responsibly.  Truly, a man’s (or woman’s)  character is often shown in how he (or she) treats another who is on a lower, inferior status.  It’s harder for the powerful to be empathetic, kind, and compassionate to those with less power.

Some writers and readers have pointed out that Gaiman really does have many scenes and plot points in his literary work where women are tortured, brutalized, and killed.  Others have said that one of Gaiman’s more famous fictional characters, Richard Madoc, was a writer, a novelist who made one of the Nine Muses his sex slave (Yes. You read that right. Nine Muses in Greek Myth and in Gaiman’s work. Nine women claiming that Gaiman sexually abused them.) so that she would continue giving him inspiration for his best-selling novels.  Wasn’t this a red flag indicating Gaiman’s own alleged acts of sexual predation?

Richard Madoc is eventually punished by Morpheus, the Dreamlord, the titular Sandman of the graphic novels that made Gaiman rich and famous.  Madoc goes mad and mutilates his hands and fingers after he is given a mental overload of ideas by Morpheus. But see, the story of Richard Madoc, titled “Calliope”, is an ANTI-ABUSE story. It clearly defends the rights of women, the all-important aspect of consent, and clearly casts Madoc as the villain who deserves punishment. In all of Gaiman’s work, he constantly champions his female characters and lets the male villains receive their comeuppance and just desserts.

After reading the entire Sandman series of graphic novels, what interests me more than a clear-cut, uncomplicated, yes, perhaps even stock character like Richard Madoc, is Gaiman’s characterization of Morpheus, also called Dream, the Dreamlord Himself. This becomes a more interesting study in light of the women’s allegations versus Gaiman. 

Morpheus becomes, in the first very first issue of Sandman, a prisoner of a cult.  The cult leader is obsessed with capturing Death through magical means—so that he could control not only Death’s power to take life, but also to grant immortality for himself. But the magic spell goes awry and instead of Death, the cult traps Dream instead.  Now that we know how Gaiman and his parents were also trapped and subjugated (although they were all conspirators as well) by the Church of Scientology, this plot point takes on a more desperate meaning. 

Morpheus, we learn throughout the series, is a self-absorbed, almost narcissistic (but not quite) character.  Being the Lord of Dreams, he is mostly surrounded by sentient dream-stuff. He created them and he could destroy them anytime. In other words, most of his companions are his slaves.  They only exist at the Dreamlord’s whim, and their sole purpose in their lives is to serve the Dreamlord.

Certain characters are exceptions to this. Lucien seems to have originally been one of the Dreamlord’s ravens and was reincarnated as The Librarian.  Eve, yes, the wife of Adam, seems to have “wandered into” the Dreamlord’s realm long, long ago.  It is also implied that other beings, human or otherwise, may also wander into the Dream Realm.

Morpheus is practically accountable to no one. He is one of the Seven Endless: Dream, Death, Desire, Despair, Destruction, Delirium (formerly Delight), and Destiny.  They seem to be cosmic manifestations of humanity’s collective unconscious drives, or even archetypes—and yet their powers make them seemingly much more than such.  They all seem to be known not only by humans but even Martians as well as beings inhabiting other planets and dimensions. They are god-like beings but are sometimes shown to be more powerful than gods. And they are all supposedly siblings.

It is now striking to me, after knowing that Gaiman’s parents were high-ranking Scientologists who raised him in their Church, how the Seven Endless could be seen as analogous to Scientology’s highest-ranking officers, the ones called “Level 8 Operating Thetans” who have attained the powers of an advanced state of existence where they become a “willing and knowing cause over life, thought, matter, energy, space and time”.

Each member of the Seven Endless is the absolute lord or mistress of their respective domains and are usually not held accountable by the others.  They are co-equal, and it is very rare that a member of the Endless will meddle in the affairs of any of the other Endless. Except, however, for one Endless—none other than Desire. It is Desire who sets in motion an elaborate plot to disrupt, sabotage, and perhaps even kill, Dream.  (Major spoilers ahead. Stop reading now if you don’t want to know what follows.)

Desire—androgynous, sexual, and powerful, whose machinations cannot be resisted by most mortals—becomes the enemy of Dream—Dream who is also Apollo, the “god” of artists.  Well, in light of recent revelations, unchecked, undenied Desire seems to be Gaiman’s enemy or weakness as well. 

Morpheus is also shown in The Sandman books to be a lonely, romantic, emotional fuccboi who revels in drowning himself—and his dream-slaves-–in his sorrows. It is mentioned by one of the dream-characters how, whenever Morpheus goes through a break-up with yet another lover, the weather of the Dream Realm turns damp, gloomy, and rainy.  Morpheus is both Dream King and Drama Queen, apparently. 

And yet, there are moments when Morpheus cannot abide it when a lesser being defies his will. He sent his ex-girlfriend, Nada, the Queen of the First People in Africa, to Hell for 10,000 years because she broke up with him.  It is only after Morpheus himself experiences imprisonment and develops a measure of empathy and emotional maturity that he goes to Hell  to secure Nada’s freedom from the Lord of Hell, Lucifer. 

Morpheus, then, is not really a heroic character; although, he is the graphic serial novel’s titular protagonist. He is petty, vindictive, and abusive to those he considers as his lessers.  In fact, Morpheus’ entire character arc is all about him learning empathy, compassion, mercy—qualities that mere humans possess. Without evolving such qualities in himself, Morpheus would keep on being a petty tyrant—possessing reality-warping powers but with the mindset and emotions of an entitled child who uses manipulation, coercion, and outright threats in order to impose his will upon others.

Now that Lila Shapiro’s investigative report on the purported victims’ allegations versus Gaiman has revealed that Neil Gaiman was raised in the Church of Scientology by his parents who were high-ranking Scientologists (yes, I’m pointing this out again; it’s important), I am reading and looking back at The Sandman graphic novels with some new interpretations of the work.

Just imagine what Neil Gaiman learned from his Scientologist parents during his formative years. He would have seen that the exercise of power, dominance, and coercion over lesser humans was the norm. That’s how the Church of Scientology reportedly operates: the higher-ranking members routinely coerce the lower-ranking ones.  Power and status, and the ability to coerce whoever is weaker, were all that mattered.

Now, just think: after having grown up in such a fascist environment, what would Neil Gaiman’s idea of consent be? Would he have grown up fully understanding what consent really is between two adults who have respect for each other as persons with equal rights and equal dignity? Or would Gaiman’s idea of consent be along the lines of fully expecting, as a matter of routine and habit, that the powerless, the weaker person in the relationship would simply say yes, or is presumed to simply obey whoever is stronger and has more power, wealth, status, and influence?  Think  on that, and then recall the relationship between Gaiman and the nanny Scarlett Pavlovich.

It’s possible that sure, Gaiman fully believes Pavlovich and the other victims consented to his sexual advances––including unlubricated penetration and other painful, humiliating acts—simply because these women, after all, were among the weak and could only be expected to say yes. In light of this possibility, do we now see the parallel between Gaiman and Morpheus the Dreamlord who expects unquestioning obedience from his servants who are essentially made of dream-stuff and owe their lives and loyalty to him?

Unfortunately, Pavlovich and the other eight women are not made of dream-stuff. Living, breathing, rational human beings get broken physically, mentally, even spiritually, when they are used, coerced, and exploited. This seems to be escaping Gaiman’s awareness at the moment.

Yes, this is all speculation—but as a long-time reader of Gaiman, I cannot avoid thinking, in light of all the allegations, that Morpheus the Dreamlord is the author’s psychic avatar, and perhaps, is an expression of what Gaiman subconsciously, if not unconsciously, wishes to evolve into.  That deep down, he also wishes to become more fully human? Because if he does not, he simply becomes a vastly powerful, tyrannical monster—essentially what Morpheus the Dreamlord is minus empathy, compassion, and kindness.

One might say that Morpheus’ character arc is what Gaiman wishes to undergo as well—provided that he is able to overcome his Scientology programming. Now, even bigger spoilers will follow. If you have not read the conclusion of Morpheus’ character arc, please stop reading this; I don’t want to ruin your reading of The Sandman.

So, we can only conclude that Morpheus the Dreamlord begins to see how abhorrent an Endless he is. Just as abhorrent as Desire, in fact. But his fate will ultimately lead him to commit the greatest “sin” that a member of the Endless can fall into: to spill family blood.  Ultimately, due to the plotting and scheming of Desire, Morpheus is forced to kill his own son. This act of filicide (murder of one’s own offspring) unleashes cosmic retribution: Morpheus is hounded by the Furies who whip and torture him, who begin to destroy the Dreamworld, and despite his great powers, the Dreamlord can do nothing to stop them.

Eventually, Morpheus calls on his sister, Death. He asks her to end his not-really-Endless existence for the sake of humanity and the inhabitants of the Dreamworld who are getting massacred by the Furies.  The destruction of the Dreamworld can have insane, even fatal consequences for humanity, as well.  And so, fully knowing that he deserves punishment and even death, Morpheus surrenders and his sister Death takes him.

I cannot help but see the current allegations versus Gaiman as the real-world analog of the Furies who punished Morpheus. And I can only wonder if Gaiman will acknowledge the wrongs he’s done and accept just retribution (Hey, his official statement on his blog is not an apology. Rather, it is a doubling down on his denial and his insistence that he never had sex with anyone without consent.).

ART VS. ARTIST

I am not judging Gaiman and saying he’s guilty. That is for a court to decide. However, it is hard to disbelieve what the nine women (according to Shapiro) are claiming. As a reader of Gaiman’s feminist work, and as a human being, I am compelled to hew more towards believing the victims—at least for now, until evidence that exonerates Gaiman comes to light.

Like many of Gaiman’s readers, I can no longer read his work in the same way as before. The thought of reading his works again produces an instinctive reaction in me: I am repelled. I currently have the same instinct when I try to read Pablo Neruda’s poems—simply because I cannot so easily dismiss the rape allegations against him, as well.

But will I never, ever read Gaiman’s and Neruda’s works again? I cannot say that for certain. I still look at both writers as brilliant, even genius-level literary artists. And despite the horrible allegations against them, I still believe that their works, as works of art, have acquired an autonomy and authority that stand separate from their authors.  In other words, yes, it is possible to separate the art from the artist—but on a per case basis, never as a general principle. Ultimately, it is up to the individual reader and his or her conscience to decide how to relate and respond to cases similar to Gaiman’s and Neruda’s.

As I close this essay—which has been quite a distressing effort—I cannot help but recall a short story by Neil Gaiman that was published in his anthology, “Fragile Things”.  Again, spoilers ahead.  Don’t read this any further if you haven’t read Gaiman’s short story, “Other People”.

In that short story, a man is bound inside a chamber in Hell and awaiting eternal, infernal torture by a demon. On the wall of the torture chamber, there are various implements and instruments designed to inflict pain—slowly and endlessly.  Now think: is this a BDSM reference? After all, BDSM is Gaiman’s admitted sexual preference.  Now just to be clear: I am not making a sweeping generalization and claiming that BDSM is “bad” and therefore Gaiman is “bad” because he claims to engage in BDSM. I am just pointing out that in this particular scene in this specific story, it is interesting to speculate whether a reference to BDSM is being made (as a sort of inside joke, or wink-wink from the author).

Anyway, here’s a quote from the Gaiman’s “Other People”:

“‘Now,’ said the demon, ‘the true pain begins.’  It did.

“Everything he had ever done that had been better left undone. Every lie had told – told to himself, or told to others. Every little hurt, and all the great hurts. Each one was pulled out of him, detail by detail, inch by inch. The demon stripped away the cover of forgetfulness, stripped everything down to truth, and it hurt more than anything.

“‘Tell me what you thought as she walked out of the door,’ said the demon.

“‘I thought my heart was broken.’

“‘No,’ said the demon, without hate, ‘you didn’t.’ It stared at him with expressionless eyes, and he was forced to look away.

“‘I thought, now she’ll never know I’ve been sleeping with her sister.’“

The final twist, of course, happens when it is revealed who the torturer demon really is. I won’t reveal the twist here.  But in the story, the entire point is that the man being punished in Hell, just like Morpheus, finally accepts that he deserves his fate. 

I can only wonder if the ending to this real-life story of man-and-women vs. monster (the “man” here representing Gaiman’s nobler aspect, as opposed to his darker, Scientology-programmed self) will be written by Gaiman or by a verdict from a criminal or a civil court. All I can do is hope for the best for all those involved. The reported victims, first and foremost, need to find healing and justice. As for Gaiman, if he somehow escapes a jail sentence and a huge civil liability payout, I can only, as a reader, hope that he gets whatever help he needs as a human being.  ###