I like Gaiman’s immortal world. I like the Heart of the Dreaming. Season of Mists takes the reader on a Grand Tour of the geography of imagining.
I particularly like the use of multiple illustrators from episode to episode. Lucifer shifts from a mighty red demon to a dark-haired aristocrat to an angelic blond. From page to page, the angels could be silvery old men or golden-haired youths. Death could be a goth chick in jeans or a cheerful girl in leg warmers. Dream looks different from story to story, but I’d recognize him no matter what body he wears.
The coolest theme is that no one — not even Lucifer — has to stay in Hell. That’s right, No Exit goes all the way up. The story really gets going when the Morningstar walks away. The damned get the boot and run amok in the realms of the living. Some of the nightmarish bits are quite touching; Gaiman really has a thing for friendships between the living and the dead. The story has few human beings, but it’s all about humanity–the breadth of human imagining, the depth of human atrocity, the warmth of human kindness. Hell, I like humanity.