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Title: The Shining
Author: Stephen King
Genre: Horror
Thingummies: 5
Synopsis: A recovering alcoholic writer takes a job as a caretaker of an isolated hotel. But the ghost-ridden hotel has its own plans for his psychic son.
Thoughts: There are a lot of really terrible horror novels out there. From incoherent assemblages of everything that might be scary (evil ghosts and zombies and psychic possessions might not be enough--let's throw in rats and chemical spills and the devil, too) to ridiculous characters who exist only to make dumb decisions and die (yes, go down alone into the basement when a serial killer is on the loose), there are a lot of authors who go for cheap thrills over understanding what really makes something scary.
This is not that book.
On the surface, this novel is about an evil hotel who tries to possess and kill a family so it can take the power of the psychic child. But what it's really about is the legacy of abuse and alcoholism and how they can lure intelligent, well-meaning people into justifying horrific acts to themselves. Jack Torrance makes some terrible, terrible decisions in this book. But King walks us through his logic with horrifying clarity, so that it's easy to see how the hotel merely influences the dark impulses already inherent in him to create a monster. Jack wants to protect his son and wife. But his pride, his temper, and his addiction allow him to be twisted to the point that going after them with a roque mallet begins to make perfect sense. It's terrifying, not because the devil or an Indian burial ground or a gypsy's curse has upended the universe, but because Jack's slide into madness is one that plenty of people have made without any haunted houses egging them on.
Much of what happens is not entirely logical on a normal plane, but is deeply compelling on a dream-logic level. Can the topiary animals really stalk someone and then appear instantaneously back in their normal positions? In the real world, of course not. But by ghost story logic, it makes perfect sense. The thing I found most compelling about this is that Jack and his wife do not make irrational decisions. Their choices are completely logical, even when contradictory, because they are being tossed back and forth between two different sets of logic. On one hand, the hotel reeks of malevolence, and ghosts are actively trying to kill their son. As characters in a ghost story, the logical thing to do is to run, as far and fast as possible. But Jack and Wendy did not grow up as characters in a ghost story--they're from the real world, and they know perfectly well that if they abandon this job, Jack will not find another. They will be stranded with a dying car and a small child in a frozen, tiny town in rural Colorado, in winter, with no money to their name. They have no families who can provide safe refuge. There is nowhere to go. They might end up on the street--they might starve. Leaving now because they have the willies and their son is hallucinating will condemn them to poverty, possibly death. Is the noble thing to sacrifice their pride and Jack's career? Or is the noble thing to stick it out and fulfill their responsibilities and fight back the nightmares? King sets up a situation in which his characters make the wrong decisions, but at the same time, the opposite decision might be just as wrong. Trying to decide whether to believe in ghosts and psychics is not just a matter of upending a lifetime's worth of knowledge--it's making a choice between which set of bad options is the worst, when both are terrible.
One standard trope of horror is to take a few ostensibly ordinary objects and imbue them with dread. King does exceptionally well at picking things that are already a little bit creepy, but not at all cliches. Topiary animals, wasps, and an elaborate wind-up clock with dancing figures all have the potential to be sinister and unpleasant on their own--King turns them into symbols of the potent fury of the hotel, recurring images that become increasingly malevolent.
The one element that I've been trying to decide how I feel about is Hallorann, the black chef who shares the psychic gift with Danny. He's dangerously close to Magical Negro territory--he's black, connected and knowledgeable about supernatural forces white folks try to ignore, and his initial role is to tell the white protagonists enough information to kick off the story. But Hallorann does get a real personality of his own, with a backstory and character development. He has agency and arguably even becomes the hero of the story. Thank god, he's not the first person to die. (I won't spoil what does happen to him in the end.) He's also not the only one with some psychic abilities, or "shine". Danny doesn't count--he's a child and a focal point of the story. But Hallorann does encounter several other people of various races and backgrounds who also have the shining (although none of them seem completely aware of what it is they have). So while understanding of the shining is apparently confined to black people, at least the actual abilities are not. It's a close thing, but I think King manages to build a character who's rounded and developed enough that he skates by the stereotype.
King has a fantastic gift for creating tension without going over the top. His characters, even the dislikable ones, are humans instead of monsters (or monster fodder) and his monsters are as monstrous as only humans can be. I found the ending to be deeply satisfying, even a bit cathartic. It's a stay-up-all-night to finish kind of story, but in the end, you'll be able to sleep. With only a few, teensy tiny little nightmares.
Author: Stephen King
Genre: Horror
Thingummies: 5
Synopsis: A recovering alcoholic writer takes a job as a caretaker of an isolated hotel. But the ghost-ridden hotel has its own plans for his psychic son.
Thoughts: There are a lot of really terrible horror novels out there. From incoherent assemblages of everything that might be scary (evil ghosts and zombies and psychic possessions might not be enough--let's throw in rats and chemical spills and the devil, too) to ridiculous characters who exist only to make dumb decisions and die (yes, go down alone into the basement when a serial killer is on the loose), there are a lot of authors who go for cheap thrills over understanding what really makes something scary.
This is not that book.
On the surface, this novel is about an evil hotel who tries to possess and kill a family so it can take the power of the psychic child. But what it's really about is the legacy of abuse and alcoholism and how they can lure intelligent, well-meaning people into justifying horrific acts to themselves. Jack Torrance makes some terrible, terrible decisions in this book. But King walks us through his logic with horrifying clarity, so that it's easy to see how the hotel merely influences the dark impulses already inherent in him to create a monster. Jack wants to protect his son and wife. But his pride, his temper, and his addiction allow him to be twisted to the point that going after them with a roque mallet begins to make perfect sense. It's terrifying, not because the devil or an Indian burial ground or a gypsy's curse has upended the universe, but because Jack's slide into madness is one that plenty of people have made without any haunted houses egging them on.
Much of what happens is not entirely logical on a normal plane, but is deeply compelling on a dream-logic level. Can the topiary animals really stalk someone and then appear instantaneously back in their normal positions? In the real world, of course not. But by ghost story logic, it makes perfect sense. The thing I found most compelling about this is that Jack and his wife do not make irrational decisions. Their choices are completely logical, even when contradictory, because they are being tossed back and forth between two different sets of logic. On one hand, the hotel reeks of malevolence, and ghosts are actively trying to kill their son. As characters in a ghost story, the logical thing to do is to run, as far and fast as possible. But Jack and Wendy did not grow up as characters in a ghost story--they're from the real world, and they know perfectly well that if they abandon this job, Jack will not find another. They will be stranded with a dying car and a small child in a frozen, tiny town in rural Colorado, in winter, with no money to their name. They have no families who can provide safe refuge. There is nowhere to go. They might end up on the street--they might starve. Leaving now because they have the willies and their son is hallucinating will condemn them to poverty, possibly death. Is the noble thing to sacrifice their pride and Jack's career? Or is the noble thing to stick it out and fulfill their responsibilities and fight back the nightmares? King sets up a situation in which his characters make the wrong decisions, but at the same time, the opposite decision might be just as wrong. Trying to decide whether to believe in ghosts and psychics is not just a matter of upending a lifetime's worth of knowledge--it's making a choice between which set of bad options is the worst, when both are terrible.
One standard trope of horror is to take a few ostensibly ordinary objects and imbue them with dread. King does exceptionally well at picking things that are already a little bit creepy, but not at all cliches. Topiary animals, wasps, and an elaborate wind-up clock with dancing figures all have the potential to be sinister and unpleasant on their own--King turns them into symbols of the potent fury of the hotel, recurring images that become increasingly malevolent.
The one element that I've been trying to decide how I feel about is Hallorann, the black chef who shares the psychic gift with Danny. He's dangerously close to Magical Negro territory--he's black, connected and knowledgeable about supernatural forces white folks try to ignore, and his initial role is to tell the white protagonists enough information to kick off the story. But Hallorann does get a real personality of his own, with a backstory and character development. He has agency and arguably even becomes the hero of the story. Thank god, he's not the first person to die. (I won't spoil what does happen to him in the end.) He's also not the only one with some psychic abilities, or "shine". Danny doesn't count--he's a child and a focal point of the story. But Hallorann does encounter several other people of various races and backgrounds who also have the shining (although none of them seem completely aware of what it is they have). So while understanding of the shining is apparently confined to black people, at least the actual abilities are not. It's a close thing, but I think King manages to build a character who's rounded and developed enough that he skates by the stereotype.
King has a fantastic gift for creating tension without going over the top. His characters, even the dislikable ones, are humans instead of monsters (or monster fodder) and his monsters are as monstrous as only humans can be. I found the ending to be deeply satisfying, even a bit cathartic. It's a stay-up-all-night to finish kind of story, but in the end, you'll be able to sleep. With only a few, teensy tiny little nightmares.
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Date: 2012-06-23 02:07 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 11:54 am (UTC)From:I've been very choosy about what King I've read--I've read this and Misery. Both were fantastic. But I'm really reluctant to read a bunch of the others, because of worries about this kind of thing.
In this one, at least, the wife does have some self-loathing problems because of an abusive childhood. But so does the husband. They're two extremely damaged people who clung to each other, but did not manage to heal each other. So when things go to shit, they both start to fall apart. Ultimately, though, he's more selfish--she manages to hold it together by the skin of her teeth for the sake of the kid, while he ends up blaming the kid. And it's not spun as a male-female thing--it's just that he's an alchoholic.
(King apparently wrote this while stuggling with being an active alcholic and harboring a lot of unjustified rage towards his family. It's clearly a mix of trying to process feelings and also staring in horrified fascination into a dark mirror. It resonates so strongly. It's terrifying. And really, really well done.)