i finally read stephen king
an October spooky book report on Carrie
Yes, this is hitting your inbox a day late. Life happens on its own timeline, and sometimes creative pursuits fall victim to shifts we didn’t anticipate nor desire. An earlier version of me would have used a missed (self-imposed) deadline as a valid excuse to call the whole thing (this newsletter) off. Luckily, I am now capable of carrying on without going to extremes.
As Confucius said, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” So for anyone else carrying the weight of a delayed artistic outlet, I hope you too can be inspired to keep showing up, and try, and try again.
Last Halloween, I wrote about Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, one of my all-time favorite books that I re-read each spooky season. With three (3!) editions of Paraphrasing in October this year, I wanted to do more chaotic fun spooky Halloween book reports. Each issue this month will feature horror book reviews, all written by an internationally renowned author whose work I have never read: Stephen King.
An avid reader with an eclectic taste, I am a bit surprised myself that I have made it 32 years without reading any one of Stephen King’s 60+ books. But I only started really reading horror novels a few years ago, too scared of potential nightmares to truck with clowns or dead pets. I’m finally ready…for some of his books at least.
I wanted to start with Carrie for a few reasons: I was familiar with the plot, thanks to Wikipedia and Too Scary Didn’t Watch summaries; and, at 306 pages, the length is far less intimidating than other King tomes. I devoured the book in 2 sittings and <24 hours.
Mild spoilers below.
first, the first paragraph
Even knowing the basic outlines of the plot & main characters beforehand, I was hooked from the start, and how could you not be with an opener like this:
“Nobody was really surprised when it happened, not really, not at the subconscious level where savage things grow. On the surface, all the girls in the shower room were shocked, thrilled, ashamed, or simply glad that the White bitch had taken it in the mouth again. Some of them might also have claimed surprise, but of course their claim was untrue. Carrie had been going to school with some of them since the first grade, and this had been building since that time, building slowly and immutably, in accordance with all the laws that govern human nature, building with all the steadiness of a chain reaction approaching critical mass.
What none of them knew, of course, was that Carrie White was telekinetic.”
From a story-telling perspective, I love what King does here. He doesn’t bury the lede - readers know Carrie has mind powers. Readers also immediately know that there is a “us vs. them” (or more accurately, “she vs. them”) element to this story: “nobody was surprised”, “all the girls”, “none of them”, etc.
And the language is thrilling. I will be rolling “the subconscious level where savage things grow” over and over in my mind for a bit.
then, the plot
Carrie White is a seventeen-year-old senior in small town Chamberlain, Maine, abused by her religious fanatic mother Margaret at home and by bullies at school. The book opens with her getting her first period in the gym locker room, leading the other girls to laugh and scream and chuck pads at her. Having never been told anything about menstruation, Carrie believes she is bleeding out, adding to the trauma of the entire experience.
The fallout from this incident starts with punishment for the girls, includes some horrifying conversations with Carrie’s mother, and ends in an infamous bloody prom night, revenge, and death (like, a lot of death).
an ensemble with biting descriptions
The title is slightly misleading. While Carrie is the central character, driving the series of events that end in utter tragedy, readers are acquainted with a surprisingly long cast of characters. There is Chris Hargensen, the mean high school bully with a rich lawyer daddy, and her lightly criminal greaser boyfriend Billy Nolan; Rita Desjardin, the young P.E. teacher who pities Carrie; and Sue Snell, a tormentor turned repentant after she convinces boyfriend Tommy Ross to take Carrie to prom (as a mea culpa for throwing tampons at her); and numerous other named townsfolk.
Despite this litany of names, King is adept at saying a lot without saying much. A few examples:
“Vic Mooney lurched out of the shadows near the Bankers Trust drive-in office with a grin on his face. It was a huge and awful grin, a Cheshire cat grin, floating dreamily in the fireshot darkness like a trace memory of lunacy.”
“She was glad they had decided to leave her alone, because she was still uncomfortable about her own motives and afraid to examine them too deeply, lest she discover a jewel of selfishness glowing and winking at her from the black velvet of her subconscious.”
“A first-year teacher, she still believed that she thought all children were good.”
vivid narration techniques
The story unfolds using multiple formats, weaving close-third narration with (fictional) interview transcripts, book excerpts, court documents, and AP news flashes, among other media “sources”. This strategy builds tension & reveals information to the reader that the characters aren’t aware of.
King effortlessly flips between the ego and id, the interior and the exterior, the surface and the subconscious. It’s stream-of-consciousness at times, but slickly so, each word serving a purpose in the story he is telling.
skin-crawling visuals (but they’re words so it’s the same)
I have never seen any film adaptation of Carrie (again, too scared), but I am familiar with the famous still of Sissy Spacek standing in her prom dress, eyes white and wide, covered in blood. I was curious how King would convey the graphic horror of this scene (and others) in his writing. That he conveys it so well, with so few words, leads me to believe that the best horror is the most straightforward.
Few things are scarier than a room full of your peers laughing at you. At its heart, this is what this story is about. In the words of Sue Snell:
“But hardly anybody ever finds out that their actions really, actually, hurt other people! People don't get better, they just get smarter. When you get smarter you don't stop pulling the wings off flies, you just think of better reasons for doing it. Lots of kids say they feel sorry for Carrie White—mostly girls, and that's a laugh—but I bet none of them understand what it's like to be Carrie White, every second of every day. And they don't really care.”
If the ending of Carrie isn’t an emphatic vote for more empathy, I don’t know what is.
good things on the internet
Obsessed with these cutey spooky ghosties from local maker Introverted Potter 👻
currently reading
It Was Only a Matter of Time Before Abortion Bans Killed Someone by Michelle Goldberg: RIP Amber Thurman.
Every Time I Read Virginia Woolf’s “Orlando,” Something Changes by Andrea Lawlor: “Then there’s some years between 1994 and 2007, when I remember only one thing about Orlando—the passage where Orlando goes to sleep, sleeps for a long time, and wakes up as a girl. The ease. Class magic, Woolf’s inheritance of audacity.”
Somewhere Beyond the Sea by T.J. Klune: Anything T.J. Klune writes is delightful, but this new sequel by “the anti JK Rowling” is especially so.
this week’s jam
photo of my cats
Probably my favorite author - I've only read 4 of his books but they are all so good, and so unique!