I wonder if the book might have been better if Gaiman had dropped the first ‘r’ in the title: Tigger Warning – if nothing else, I’d say it suggests the contents a little better. There’s the usual Gaiman excellence and the usual Gaiman frustrations: his talent runs over and doesn’t really, in the end, seem to know where to go. There’s a comparison to be made with the work of Alan Garner: the seem commitment to the imagination, the same deep, gnawing fear that, underneath everything, these are all just imaginings, phantasms of words and thoughts, sounds and furies signifying nothing. Gaiman is at his best when he adds a lightness of touch, a sense of humour to his stories – Garner doesn’t do jokes. There’s not many funny stories in here – most are dark and creepy – but they’re effective; I’d be hard put to say they are anything else.