Scott Card, Orson: The Grinning Man

This is why I read Sci-Fi. If someone asked me to define what appeals to me about Sci-Fi, I would read them this short story. It is great. I read it in the Robert Silverberg editied collection Legends (Silverberg, King, Brooks and other feature in this outstanding book). The mini-narrative is a side-line (like a lot of these types of stories) from Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series, and is a wonderfully warm anecdote. The characters are joyful and funny without spoiling into silliness, the scenes are believable and the story is sugar-coated with imagination. This is story telling in the vein of the brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. Perhaps it won't e remembered, but it should - it's a warm cup of tea on a cold winter's morning. It would only take an hour to read, so find this book and read it - rarely have I spent such a fulfilling hour in the world of commas and full-stops.

King, Stephen: Dreamcatcher

We were holidaying in beautiful New England. It was fall, the leaves had just started to rust, and the wind of the Atlantic started to chill. Clear, blue skies covered Acadia National Park and the Green Mountains were lush. Everywhere was beautiful... except, in the world of Stephen King. In his New England aliens had invaded and disease was preparing to spread through the Maine counrtyside like a forest fire. We passed a number of the places that I was reading about, which was interesting and gave a snug a feel to the story, like when the winter comes and the open fire is sparked up for the first time since Spring. But what of the story?

Well, Mr King is varied in his writing. I have always thought that. He has a noticeable style, one that's consistent, witty, interesting and colourful. Each sentence flowers, intertwining history, current events, philosophy and emotion. You find out interesting little facts and explore the local towns and countryside. It's always good entertainment, it's always fun.

Dreamcatcher is a hybrid of SciFi and horror; aliens harboring fatal diseases, crashed spaceships and long, slimey worm-like creatures known, peotically, as Shitweasels. The story has all the props, but with an added Stevey-Bonus - Four childhood friends, reunited and reliving the events that brought them close as Primary school kids. Like IT years before, it has the seeds for a wonderful creation.

But I didn't much care for it. Like IT, the plot starts of thoroughly introducing us to the characters, describing their varied upbringings and their more varied adult lives. Up North, strange things are happening, we are drawn into the plot. The winter scenery is described with a clarity as crisp as the snow, and the isolation from the outside world sounds more like Vladivostok than Northern Maine. There's a wonderful scene, possibly one of King's greatest, where the woodland creatures are all fleeing, the wolf and the rabbit, the deer and the bear, and none of them paying attention to what would normally be their prey or predator. The horror is rife, as always, King takes the Western World's fashionable fears, chops and dices them and sprinkles them between the lines - in this case, at the beginning of the 21st century, Cancer. But, sadly, as with a few of King's books, the plot looses momentum and withers away to a few fast-paced threads without much reader-relation, and ultimately the Humvee speeding down route one doesn't synchronise with my slowing pulse. I feel a little disappointed; the time I've invested in getting to know these characters all seems a little wasted. Then I take a look at the book I'm reading, it's horror, from the man who defines the genre. So why am I looking for emotion? Perhaps it's me, I think; I like to relate to the characters. But no, I feel let down because I know what Stephen King can deliver, he gave us the Shawshank Redemption, the Body (stand by me) and numerous others. He brought in all the props, and a great plot, but like the Shitweasels, they never really got anywhere.

Herbert, James: Others

Thanks to Mr King and teenage years smirking over hours of low-budget horror movies, I liked the horror genre, so decided I'd venture into the world of British author James Herbert. The first few pages set an interesting scene, a little dark, a little creepy. But as I started to unravel the lead character, I started to get a little unnerved. The lead is horribly disfigured, and as this is written in the first-person, it left me with a ill-feeling. I felt a little shallow at this, but put the book down, and never picked it back up.

Dickens, Charles: Hard Times

Except maybe Shakespeare, is there an author more famous than Dickens? How many other authors have been immortalised through the adjectivisation* of their name? I think that really must be the definition of fame and celebrity; the adjectivisation of one's name; Marxism, Newtonian, Cartesian, Leninism, Dickensian. Kafka almost gets there, with Kafka-esque, and a number of philosophers and sociologists do, but few storytellers (Clancian, Grishamian? Come on!).

Hard times is set in an imaginary industrial, British any-town. Like many of Dickens' books, it focusses less on the elite, and more on the lower-classes, I'm sure this must be a reason for its popularity. It observes the discourse and interactions that emerge from circumstance. Hard times is not richly plotted nor overly complex, it is a linear plot but crafted with such care that each paragraph is like a poem in itself. The characters are rich, realistic and individual with such traits as to make them believable. There exist three environments in literature, the now, the then and the alternative. The then, or the historic, is rendered with such detail and accuracy that you really feel like you are observing these places and people rather than a pithy echo.

I feel it is often easier to empathise with those whose plight is more desperate which often amounts to those down on their luck. In turn, it is frequently the case that 'down on their luck' is synonymous with having little money. This is part of Dickens' magic, he gets to the raw nerve, talks to you on a one-to-one basis. Him and I understand the same things, that's what I like. Perhaps this is why people often compare Dickens to King, though this may be doing Dickens a disservice (Steinbeck would fit the bill better in my opinion), it is clear how the comparison is made.

I think in the future when reviewing Dickens' books I will have to start on the basis of the plot, much like comparing King's books, the style should be taken for granted. In that case by self-comparison, this is not one of Dickens's greatest, the plot is not outstanding, the characters only marginally memorable. But, still a classic book.


*I don't think this is a word, but the English language is not that prescriptive!

King, Stephen: The Gunslinger (Dark Tower I)

The Gunslinger is the introduction to King's epic seven-volume Dark Tower series. Spanning almost three decades, the whole series is a serious investment. When I picked up the Gunslinger, book number five (Wolves of the Calla) was just in publication, or thereabouts. There was considerable hype around the series. I wanted to know what the fuss was all about.

The Gunslinger operates in a skewed alternative-world. Writing this review almost four years after reading the book, I remember very little. This is odd, but I think in part due to the sparsity of the novel. King's vision evidently stretches well beyond the boundaries of this short story, which cannot be considered outside the series. The Gunslinger relies very much on being part of a series, it is not a novel or novella, it does not set a solid foundation for the series, rather it is very much like the first chapter of a book; an introduction I guess. But it is intriguing, I am told by Dark Tower experts that there are numerous references to other books, mainly the Stand, but also the Talisman and Black House, and a number of others (referencing like that is something I really do like). The Gunslinger reminded me very much of David Lynch films; quite odd and absurd and it had my curiosity held. Now, I don't like series, I like to get to the end - I watched the first five series of Sopranos and got annoyed when I found out there was more! I never got round to reading book two - The Drawing of the Three. But since the series has been completed I have bought collectable copies of all seven books. The illustrations, varying throughout the series and including Darrel Anderson and Michael Whelan, are really unbelievable and draw me deeply into the series - it is something I just have to read, a world I have to experience. But the investment in time is huge, and I have to think about this!

The Gunslinger gives a taste of the world dominated by the Dark Tower. At this point, I cannot imagine where the plot will go or how the Gunslinger fits into the story - in fact, all I know is that I long to read it. And I'm sure I will start with the Gunslinger once again. I have the feeling that this is the type of story I will like - something which I imagine I will need to share. I just pray there is some poignancy therein; I mean there has to be - such an epic - would it be a waste to just tell a story?!*

*I will answer this when I come back, I'm inclined to think that it will not be a waste - stories are beautiful thinks, our ability to tell them defines us as human beings!

King, Stephen: The Stand (unabridged)

The Stand is King's first epic (the other being the Dark Tower series). Originally published in 1978, some 400 pages were removed as Doubleday were dubious about publishing such a lengthy book. However, in 1990 they chose to republish an unabridged edition (1400 pages if I recall correctly). Quite a smart move on Doubleday's part in the long run - most long-term fans have a copy of both!

Anyway, onto the book. As usual King introduces each character with such a depth of backstory that you would swear that you could easily bump into Stuart Redman at a gas station in the Deep South. The difference with this book is King has allowed himself a little extra room to tell their stories fully. And this is what appeals to me most about this book, it is not a single-story, nor a bunch of interrelated tales, rather it is an episode of a post-apocalyptic world, experienced from every angle. Something encouraged by the sparsity of population. So many areas of life are explored, so many terrifying perspectives are daubed with King's to-the-point writing. It may essentially be an ultimate good against evil plot, but much more is included, pertinent points are addressed and the darker side of humanity is put on a platform and given voice. The scale of the novel maps neatly to the scale of the book's background (America - from the West to the East) and, unlike a number of King's books, the ending is paced well and hits just right.

Rarely touted as one of King's masterpieces, it always appears to exist outside of King's bibliography, as if raised to a height where competition cannot reach. Perhaps, quite rightly so. This book is a world apart, few authors succeed in writing such a world, it is too large a challenge and takes years to plan. Has King pulled it off? Well, yes, if judging against King himself. It does not compare to some other epics; it isn't the Lord of the Rings of Horror (I imagine the Dark Tower series may be). But what is important is that it is an epic in King's style, a style I think is all too often associated purely with horror, and, although this is his realm, his style is what is important. If you're a King fan, then you will like this book. King is not the literary king (although there are very good examples of such work), but he is the master storyteller. Nobody would be better suited to a campfire telling stories!

King, Stephen: Salem's Lot

After graduating from university, I found myself sitting on a bus with a record bag full of computer books. I found myself underwhelmed by excitement and anticipation. I ventured to delve into the world of fiction, stuck a stake in the ground, and chose Stephen King to immerse me into the world of the imagined through his early work - Salem's Lot.

I hadn't read fiction since my primary school years; I was under the impression that fiction was less valuable than fact; I felt I was wasting my time. But as my mind created images of yellowing vampires, Norman Bates-esque houses on hills and undead children floating in their pyjamas, the realisation of the enjoyment that my imagination gave me unfolded and uncrumpled in my mind. I was back on track. I was enjoying fiction again (I had read a lot when I was younger).

The book itself, I found unspectacular. The tension was raised occasionally, but the plot was mediocre and easily anticipated. It is King's second b

Publish Post

ook, and he was very much in his infancy - with respect to major publishing - and it is down to this that I put my lack of enthusiasm. But it painted a picture, the characters were described well, but I couldn't get to grips with them. The environment - the sounds, atmosphere and settings - were all, sadly, cliché. But hey, it may just be that King created this mood. I need comparisons.