EVEN STEPHEN
Timothy Taylor’s new novel offers a compromise between King and Hawking Terra Arnone
LEGACY CAN BECOME ITS OWN FORCE AFTER A BODY BIDS ADIEU.
The Rule of Stephens By Timothy Taylor Penguin Random House Canada 240 pp; $22.95
Aquick, casual appraisal of my modest social circle tells me there is no shortage of Steph(v)ens making their way in our world these days, and a slightly more academic search confirms that observation: the name Stephen ( plus derivatives) has enjoyed a steady popularity over the last century or so, always finding a cozy home in the U. S. top 100 and peaking in the 1940s. Turns out Stephens Hawking and King were both born in that decade, and if their notability was watered down by the name’s popularity then, these two have made more than good on that average now, I’d say.
Our Stephens’ matching monikers weren’t lost on 2001 Giller Prize Finalist Timothy Taylor, whose latest novel plays on the authors’ eponymous parallel alongside their respective creative polarity. The Rule of Stephens sets its story against the scale of sanity our Stephens seem together to present: Hawking’s hard and literal logic versus King’s more pliable world, a battle between science, psychology and whatever grey area makes up the space between.
Doctor- cum- entrepreneur Catherine Bach is one of only six passengers to emerge from the wreckage of doomed ( fictional) Air France Flight 801 alive, although each survivor came away bearing permanent proof of their trauma: a smattering of visible injuries, as you might expect, and a single unifying wound, less conspicuous, that becomes the crux of Taylor’s story. The other passengers of Flight 801 died quickly, at least, but it seems the smaller-by-the-day group of survivors have been fated to a slower, spookier earthly demise.
Conspiracy is born among them and, as is its usual wont, that conspiracy comes to bear theory – one that’s wedging its way into otherwise hyper- analytical Catherine’s life at a frightening clip. A literal and logical student of Hawking’s laws, Catherine finds herself facing a phenomenon much closer to King’s fictional preference instead. It’s a terrific idea, but Taylor’s take isn’t entirely successful, overwritten suspense stalling pace throughout. The west coast author does his Vancouver home great justice, though, and crafts a portrait of Chicago compelling enough to sell flights despite the subject matter.
If King offers some leeway in how we interpret loss, his fictional characters often lingering past expiry, Hawking proved his own point in turn last week, with the beloved physicist’s passing offering ironclad evidence that mortal finality comes full stop. But it might be said that Hawking’s life, career and lasting impact play more to King’s approach, illustrating the way legacy can become its own enduring force long after the body bids adieu. The Rule of Stephens’ release is almost startling in its timing just weeks before one-half its story would make headlines the world over, and therein lies something even more celestial: auspice so seasonable it might well belong to King instead.