Tony’s Review: Doctor Sleep, Stephen King

15800595

4/5

Dan Torrance, the child protagonist of King’s The Shining, is now an alcoholic drifter, chased by the ghosts of his childhood and trying to drown them in drink. When he gets off a bus to nowhere in New Hampshire, his life begins to change…

Including The Talisman – Black House books King wrote with Peter Straub and his Dark Tower series, King is actually an old hand at sequels. This one doesn’t disappoint: it’s full of warmth and humour and characteristic King touches and style.

About a quarter of the way through, I realised the plot is more of a Dean Koontz feel: Troubled man helps protect precocious tele-everything teen from very real psychic vampires, learning the redemptive power of family on the way. Not that’s a criticism at all, I just thought it was interesting.

Dan attends Alcoholics Anonymous, and one of the twelve steps is apologise to those you’ve hurt…and it seems like King wants to apologise to Dan Torrance for running him through the hell of The Shining. He wants to know that Dan’s life turned out all right in the end. It’s very much a story of redemption and returning sanity, a counterpoint to the damnation and slide into insanity that was The Shining.

And King’s own demons mirror the book: As a recovering alcoholic and substance abuser, he’s been at the bottom where Dan starts off. As a result Dan feels like a very intimate and personal portrait, a thin veil of King’s own fall and recovery.

As much as Dan realises he can’t escape the virtual demons in his head, so Abra – his teenage counterpart – can’t escape the real demons chasing after her: Wherever you go, there you are, they realise.

The climax felt a little rushed, but then as a book about redemption and healing, it was never really about who was going to win in the end. And, to be honest, it was pretty obvious from the start.

It’s been a while since King wrote anything as simple as splatter and gore, and the horror and the terror in this book are restrained and off-screen. No one loses a foot or does the Mashed Potato all over a giant eyeball for instance.

With such a strong young adult protagonist, it’s also a great young-adult book.

I haven’t read The Shining in a few years, and it didn’t feel as if I needed a refresher to read this. There would have been a few paragraphs that wouldn’t have made much sense, that was all.

If you haven’t read any King, this is a good place to start.

Tony’s Review: Carrie, Stephen King

10592

4/5

Bullied by her fundamentalist mother and outcast at school, Carrie White is slated to live a life of misery. Until she realises she’s telekinetic…

I’ve read quite a few of Stephen King’s books, but never got around to reading this until now. No reason, specifically, unless it’s the fact I read ‘salems Lot (Number Two) and thought it was clumsy and hard going.

What a surprise Carrie is then, in comparison. Carrie herself and Sue Snell, really the main two characters, are well thought out and three-dimensional, and I really felt for Carrie and her miserable life. And for Sue as well, trying to reach out to her in anyway she could. The fact that she left it too late is the real heart of the story, and the tragedy of it all.

King’s first book is a short tale compared to most of his others, and there’s none of the bloat that affects some of his later writing. The climax is slow and inevitable, but unaffected by that slow build. The book slips between the main events and the aftermath easily, lending a nice feel to it and breaking up the linear narrative.

I can see why King became such a popular writer after this. This isn’t a story of the boogie-man who eats children or vampires coming to town. This is an ordinary girl with an extraordinary talent; her only response to bullying is to fight back the only way she knows how, with terrifying and bitter results for the town where she lives.

Extraordinary, and without doubt one of the top three King books I’ve read.

Horrorfest Post…Why Stephen King missed his calling

This post by Tony T orginially featured on the blog in October last year, but I thought it fitted well with this event and so have re-posted it today 🙂

——————————————————————–

I’ve read quite a few Stephen King books. Not all of them by any means – I believe the list is now up to sixty two, – but I’ve read enough of them to know his writing pretty well.

We all know the genre: Joe Average (who has a habit of being a writer) finds himself in a supernatural situation, gets himself out of it – though doesn’t always survive mentally.

And fair enough, some of them are gruesome to the max – I believe all aspiring writers should read Misery, just as an object lesson to run from anyone who tells you, ‘I’m your Number One Fan’, and as a delve into the writing process.

But I digress, and back to my point.

I put it to the world: He missed his calling. The man was born to write YA.

I came across the review Em posted on here for The Long Walk, and flicking through my shelves of King today, it occurred to me that the works I think are his best are all, at heart YAs: IT. The Long Walk. The Body (Stand by Me, for those who only know the film). The Talisman. Christine. Carrie.

But what about the horror? What about the profanity? Some might ask. I’d ask if they’d read any YA recently. I’d pick up a Bali Rai and point out the profanity in there. I’d pick up a Darren Shan and show you the gore inside. He’s not written anything in the books I’ve mentioned above that couldn’t be handled by a teenager.

The simple fact is Stephen King works best when he’s writing about teenagers and children.

He knows on a fundamental level how they tick, the elemental fears that move and shake them. He knows how a dark cellar scares the lunch out of them, how sunlight gleaming from the ankle bracelet of the first girl you ever love melts your heart.

And he knows the value of childhood friendships (The Body: I never had any friends later on like I had when I was twelve. Jesus, did anyone?), the easy pain cruel parents inflict on their children – and not always physically.

That’s why his horror works so well…he knows the fears of childhood and knows we’ve all been there. Who’s never been frightened by a clown like Pennywise in IT? Personally, I don’t remember a time I didn’t find clowns scary.

Even Christine, which is perhaps a borderline case for YA, is all about the losers in high school, full of teenage angst and anger. Breaking the rules for the first time to get what you want, breaking away from your parents.

Stephen King missed his calling. He’s wasted on all those adults! YA’s should take him as one of their own!

So I put it to the world: Start a campaign. Stephen King should write YA!

Tony’s Thinking…Why Stephen King Missed His Calling

I’ve read quite a few Stephen King books. Not all of them by any means – I believe the list is now up to sixty two, – but I’ve read enough of them to know his writing pretty well.

We all know the genre: Joe Average (who has a habit of being a writer) finds himself in a supernatural situation, gets himself out of it – though doesn’t always survive mentally.

And fair enough, some of them are gruesome to the max – I believe all aspiring writers should read Misery, just as an object lesson to run from anyone who tells you, ‘I’m your Number One Fan’, and as a delve into the writing process.

But I digress, and back to my point.

I put it to the world: He missed his calling. The man was born to write YA.

I came across the review Em posted on here for The Long Walk, and flicking through my shelves of King today, it occurred to me that the works I think are his best are all, at heart YAs: IT. The Long Walk. The Body (Stand by Me, for those who only know the film). The Talisman. Christine. Carrie.

But what about the horror? What about the profanity? Some might ask. I’d ask if they’d read any YA recently. I’d pick up a Bali Rai and point out the profanity in there. I’d pick up a Darren Shan and show you the gore inside. He’s not written anything in the books I’ve mentioned above that couldn’t be handled by a teenager.

The simple fact is Stephen King works best when he’s writing about teenagers and children.

He knows on a fundamental level how they tick, the elemental fears that move and shake them. He knows how a dark cellar scares the lunch out of them, how sunlight gleaming from the ankle bracelet of the first girl you ever love melts your heart.

And he knows the value of childhood friendships (The Body: I never had any friends later on like I had when I was twelve. Jesus, did anyone?), the easy pain cruel parents inflict on their children – and not always physically.

That’s why his horror works so well…he knows the fears of childhood and knows we’ve all been there. Who’s never been frightened by a clown like Pennywise in IT? Personally, I don’t remember a time I didn’t find clowns scary.

Even Christine, which is perhaps a borderline case for YA, is all about the losers in high school, full of teenage angst and anger. Breaking the rules for the first time to get what you want, breaking away from your parents.

Stephen King missed his calling. He’s wasted on all those adults! YA’s should take him as one of their own!

So I put it to the world: Start a campaign. Stephen King should write YA!


The Long Walk – Em’s Review

Being a massive Stephen King fan, the Long Walk, written under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman is a bit of a favourite of mine.

One of the things that really sets the book apart from a lot of King’s work, for me, is the setting. Often in King’s world, as Constant Readers will know, we find ourselves in a situation with normal everyday people, people that we can understand and relate to – our contemporaries if you like – suddenly dropped into an incredible and horrifying situation.

Take books like The Stand, Cell, The Mist and so on. Unlike many dystopian tales, these stories chart the cataclysmic events which lead to the dystopian future, following a normal person who we can understand – essentially one of us – into that future, seeing how they cope with the events and the horrors along the way.

The Long Walk is different in that it starts in this Dystopian future, and only hints at the events which have led us to this. There are hints along the way that this is an alternate history America, and that at some point in the past there has been a military takeover which has resulted in America as a dictatorship.

One of the things that strikes me most about the book is the casual acceptance of violence – by the Walkers themselves, the crowd – even small children. It is seen as entertainment, and life is apparently very cheap. However – this clashes with some of the descriptions in the book – the spectators and the boys themselves are very much of our world – the high school students, the problems, dreams and aspirations, and the experiences that the Walkers discuss. This makes the situation that much harder for us, as the reader to understand. On one level we can completely identify with the characters, but on another we can’t imagine the world in which they live, and what has led them to such a casual acceptance of their own mortality, and that of their fellow Walkers, in the name of entertainment. This is reinforced by the fact that the Walk is a voluntary activity  – these boys have put themselves forward for it, and bypassed opportunities to back out at several stages.

I think this is a really clever way in which King puts the characters on our level whilst also putting up a barrier of understanding between them and us, which throughout the book we seek to break down.

The stories of the different Walkers form the backdrop of the story – punctuated by the violent and sometimes disturbing interludes as one by one the boys receive their ‘ticket’. The slow pace of the book adds to the feeling of creeping fatigue, and in a very real sense, you feel like you are going through this experience with the boys.

Again, we never really find a real motivation for the majority of the Walkers to be there. Most come from stable and loving families, they have various tales of regret or problems in their lives, but nothing that you could imagine would push someone to the extremes that they have chosen.

And so, I started thinking – is the Long Walk an allegory for life itself? And the Walkers, and the way they take their ‘tickets’ symbolic of how people approach their own deaths? Or even of the elements of our personalities, and how they change and distort as we approach the end?  Even the concept…walking down your fellow Walkers until you approach the end alone stripped clean of the various facets of personality until there is just the compulsion to continue – could very well be symbolic of the journey through life, with Ray Garraty, our protagonist, symbolising all of us? Or maybe that’s too deep and meaningful! But I liked it!

Another very interesting thing about the book is the idea of the Long Walk as a televised reality show. In the era of books such as the Hunger Games, and with a proliferation of reality shows such as Big Brother on TV, one may think that this is standard fodder for a fiction writer. But you must remember that the Long Walk was written in the 60’s, one of King’s first books (although published later), so pre-dated reality TV by decades. This makes it all the more interesting, almost prophetic in its themes of real people as consumables for the masses, stripped of voice, personality, humanity.

The crowd is often described almost as an entity in itself – a solid shouting, jeering, undulating mass, single-minded in its uncaring brutality. This adds to the feeling of isolation of the Walkers. Though constantly surrounded by people, it is as if they were the only ones who are real – even the death-dealing soldiers on the half tracks are faceless automatons, part of the rolling scenery of the Walk.

As with much of King’s work, the characters are the crux of the story. Whatever else is happening, whatever horrors await, the characters are so deftly drawn, so real and vital, that they become the focus of the story – everything else becomes secondary to them – their thoughts, feelings and actions. King is a master of character building – his are living breathing characters – not just ‘bags of bones’ that he uses puppet-like to voice his dialogue. That is what makes a story like this so powerful, the realistic strengths and weaknesses of his characters – there are no ‘good guys’ or ‘baddies’ in his story, the good have bad points, the bad good. Just like in real life!

In summary, I think that the Long Walk is a gruelling, often gut wrenching, and sometimes heart breaking read – it makes you think about mortality in a different way – not as something momentous and hallowed, but as a switch that can be flicked at a moments notice by stumbling once too often as you pass along the road.

Book of the Month – March – The Bachman Books

Em’s choice this month – we’ve all read some Stephen King along the way – Em LOVES him I think 🙂 and so it’s no surprise she’s nominated one of his for BotM. I’m really looking forward to reading these short stories as I’ve not done any Stephen King for a while. As we’re doing The Running Man and The Long Walk, we’ll be on these for March and April to give everyone chance to read both.

As usual – feel free to join us in a read along – if you want a guest review just send it over or get in touch with comments 🙂