Neverwhere

“Jessica was in the process of organizing a traveling exhibition of Mr. Stockton’s angel collection, and had come to the conclusion that great men always collected something.”

This provides insight into Jessica’s pushy nature and her desire to make Richard live up to the standards set by her boss. Richard collects troll dolls, which Jessica disliked until she began organizing the exhibit and decided Richard’s collection was on par with her boss’s.

“You’re in trouble already. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you hear, just makes it worse. You had better pray you haven’t stepped too far in.”

The Marquis delivers this warning to Richard—one of many, as they travel to meet Old Bailey—and it builds tension by hinting at the danger Richard faces. In Neverwhere, not only the characters but the very metaphysics of the story world embody The Threat of Treachery, so an individual’s own actions may betray them.

“It reminded him of Hell, or rather, the way he had thought of Hell, as a schoolboy.”

The narrator says this when Richard is taken to meet Lord Rat-speaker. The wording of this passage foreshadows the dangers that await Richard and his companions, and by invoking quasi-biblical imagery, Gaiman ties his world more closely to topics of wonder and hints at the malicious intent of the beings with whom Richard will have to contend.

“I am of the opinion that what cripples us who inhabit the Underside is our petty factionalism. The system of baronies and fiefdoms is both divisive and foolish.”

Lord Portico’s final journey entry provides background for the power systems of London Below, which also explains why Door asked Richard what barony they were in when he rescues her at the beginning of the story. Lord Portico’s desire for unity is referenced later on, and at the end of the novel, Door decides to see if she can make his dream a reality.

“Darkness is happening, night is happening. All the nightmares that have come out when the sun goes down, since the cave times, when we huddled together in fear for safety and for warmth, are happening. Now [...] is the time to be afraid of the dark.”

Hunter, known at this point as the leather woman, says this to Richard as they cross the bridge to the market. Darkness, here, means more than just an absence of light—it’s an absence of goodness.

“You are out of your depth, in deep shit, and, I would imagine, a few hours away from an untimely and undoubtedly messy end. We on the other hand are auditioning bodyguards.”

The Marquis de Carabas says to Richard when the latter reunites with Door. The Marquis considers Richard to be a useless distraction because he doesn’t know yet that Richard is brave and devoted.

“Young man […] understand this: there are two Londons. There’s London Above—that’s where you lived—and then there’s London Below—the Underside—inhabited by the people who fell through the cracks in the world. Now you’re one of them. Good night.”

In the sewers of London Below, the Marquis provides a succinct explanation of where Richard is and of his new place between these worlds.

“Sir. Might I with due respect remind you that Mister Vandemar and myself burned down the City of Troy? We brought the Black Plague to Flanders. We have assassinated a dozen kings, five popes, half a hundred heroes and two accredited gods. Our last commission before this was the torturing to death of an entire monastery in sixteenth-century Tuscany. We are utterly professional.”

Mr. Croup says this to his employer, who is later revealed to be Islington, and expresses his distaste over being told not to kill Door. With his allusions to various historical atrocities and disasters, Gaiman accomplishes two things; he creates tension by showing how dangerous Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar are, and he offers insight into Mr. Croup by outlining the perverse pride that the man takes in his work.

“Door fixed the Earl with her look: there was something more ancient and powerful in those huge opal-colored eyes in their pale heart-shaped face than her young years would have seemed to allow.”

This exchange shows that Door is mature beyond her years, and the narrative makes it clear that despite her relative youth, she holds a strong aristocratic status and wields a measure of authority that Richard has not fully appreciated until this moment.

“Old Bailey remembered when people had actually lived here in the City, not just worked; when they had lived and lusted and laughed, built ramshackle houses one leaning against the next, each house filled with noisy people.”

As Old Bailey reflects while looking out over the city of London, Gaiman is providing a commentary on the character of the city, which has become a machine not unlike its iconic Big Ben: devoid of life and spirit.

“It looked like it had once been the door to a cathedral. It was the height of two men, and wide enough for a pony to walk through. Carved into the wood of the door, and painted with red and white and gold leaf, was an extraordinary angel. It stared out at the world with blank medieval eyes.”

This description of the angelus indicates that Islington first visited Earth, perhaps, in the medieval period. The size and grandness of the carving speak to how Islington has become a legendary figure in London Below.

“I have always felt […] that violence is the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the final sanctuary of the terminally inept.”

When Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar threaten the Marquis, he says that he finds them hopelessly stupid and incapable. This further illustrates his character: The Marquis isn’t opposed to violence, but he believes there is a time and a place for it and therefore that threats should always come from a place of truth. This contrasts with what other characters―particularly Richard―think of him, as his perceived untrustworthiness could imply a propensity for violence.

“I turn my head, and you may go where you want. I turn it again, you will stay till you rot. I have no face, but I live or die by my crooked teeth—who am I?”

This is the riddle that one of the Black Friars proposes to Door, Hunter, and Richard. Riddles are often used as a test in mythology, and the stakes are always high: In the tale of Oedipus and the Sphinx, a wrong answer to the Sphinx’s riddle will lead to death. For Door, Hunter, and Richard, a wrong answer would mean being turned away from the key and losing the opportunity to find out who murdered Door’s family. The answer to the riddle is, in fact, a key.

“The Marquis de Carabas was not a good man, and he knew himself well enough to be perfectly certain that he was not a brave man. He had long since decided that the world, Above or Below, was a place that wished to be deceived, and, to this end, he had named himself from a lie in a fairy tale, and created himself—his clothes, his manner, his carriage—as a grand joke.”

As the Marquis is being crucified by Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar, he reflects on his own character. Despite this self-portrait, the novel suggests that the Marquis is a good and brave man. He submitted himself to this torture so he could help Door by finding out who hired the assassins, an action that a cowardly, self-interested man would not do and that is key to the novel’s development of The Transformative Nature of Sacrifice.

“We have lost the key […] God help us all.”

The Black Friars don’t tell Richard and the others about Islington’s true nature or why they are guarding the key, but the despair expressed by the Abbot injects a note of foreshadowing to indicate that the angel is less than virtuous.

“Nothing of Atlantis remained but the water-bloated bodies of children, of women and of men, floating on the cold morning waves; bodies at which the seagulls, gray and white, were already beginning to pick, with their cruel beaks.”

Islington’s dream shows the violent outcome for the first and only city that Islington was charged with caring for: the mythical lost city of Atlantis. The language used describes Islington as much as it describes the scene: cold and cruel.

“Richard felt oddly proud. He had proved himself in the ordeal. He was One of Them. He would Go, and he would Bring Back Food. He puffed out his chest.”

Richard uses an ordinary errand to encapsulate his feelings about his place in the group, which has changed now that he’s survived the ordeal. Gaiman’s choice of capitalization shows the reader the increased importance Richard now feels.

“Go near him again, you or any of the Velvet Children, and I’ll come by day to your cavern, while you sleep, and I’ll burn it to the ground. Understand?”

This passage recalls the fact that the Marquis does not make empty threats. When he says this to Lamia, a dangerous, life-sucking creature who is akin to a vampire, he is demonstrating his bravery and resolve. This scene also reveals the shift in how he and Richard interact. He is now actively protecting Richard, whereas earlier, he didn’t much care whether Richard survived his stay in London Below.

“‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Thirty pieces of silver?’”

Upon learning of Hunter’s betrayal, Richard actively compares her to Judas, who received 30 pieces of silver to betray Jesus to the Romans. Richard is also asking if the prize Hunter received for betraying them―a spear―was worth it, and the bitterness in his voice shows that he is still naïve enough not to expect treachery from those he knows and respects.

“When angels go bad, Richard, they go worse than anyone. Remember, Lucifer used to be an angel.”

This cynical comment from the Marquis constitutes yet another biblical reference, for the trickster casually compares Islington to Lucifer, an angel who fell from Heaven when he tried to fight against God. This exchange obliquely reveals just how deep Islington’s villainy goes.

“A key. A door. An opener of the door. There must be the three, you see: a particularly refined sort of joke. The idea being that when they decided I had earned forgiveness and my freedom, they would send me an opener, and give me the key. I just decided to take matters into my own hands, and will be leaving a little early.”

According to Islington, it is going to be released at some future point―whenever its imprisoners decide it has served its time for its crime. Because of this, its decision to force its release seems logical; if it was eventually going to be released, it’s not actually doing anything wrong by releasing itself. In the angel’s mind, its actions are fate.

“Who do you think she is—the Wizard of Oz? We can’t send you home. This is your home.”

When the Marquis says this to Richard, after the latter has wondered once more if he can return to London Above, he’s calling Richard out for being ridiculous. However, he’s also welcoming Richard to stay in London Below, showing that he has truly accepted Richard as someone who belongs.

“The old Richard, the one who had lived in what was now the Buchanans’ home, would have crumbled at this point, apologized for being a nuisance, and gone away. Instead, Richard said, ‘Really? Nothing you can do about it? You let out a property I was legally renting from your company to someone else, and in the process lost all my personal possessions, and there’s nothing you can do about it? Now, I happen to think, and I’m sure my lawyer will also think, that there is a great deal you can do about it.’”

After returning to his old life, Richard displays his transformation from a timid man into a strong person who can stand up for himself. In this scene, he finds a way to translate the strength and heroism he learned in London Below in order to improve his new life in London Above.