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Neil Gaiman is my favorite author, and I have loved the study of comparative religions since I first learned to read, so I expected to love this book. Instead I found myself constantly disappointed by what amounted to little more than a prose re-hash of everything he had done in his far-superior "The Sandman" graphic novel series (but with more "grit", which I suspect he added to ensure he would be taken seriously as a prose-writer for adults) filtered through the lens of Pratchett's vastly superior "Small Gods".

Even the novel's basic premise (that America is a land unfit for gods because only the land itself could attract worship) flies in the face of history, as i can think of at least three major world religions that have thrived and given birth to new sects here -- several of which have since spread to become massive international sects. Likewise, his reductionist approach to Native American religion is remarkably offensive, in that it dismisses every aspect of every Native American religious tradition which is not connected to Earth-worship.

I think the only portion I really enjoyed was the reveal of the goblin at the end, in large part because I had not expected it and it felt like a return to vintage Gaiman.

This is the only work by Gaiman I have ever actively disliked, and I have put off reading the sequel as a result.