King's scary fairy tale
Many of us reverted to favourite childhood reading in lockdown so it's no surprise that some writers had a similar regression in their work. Stephen King has said that his 65th novel is the book he wrote to see himself through the pandemic: a fairy tale set in a mysterious land populated by wolves, mermaids and giant crickets. It features a child-eating giant, a malevolent dwarf, a beautiful princess living incognito as a goose farmer and numerous hair's-breadth escapes and good versus evil battles.
Just the book, then, for readers who can't wait to escape into another world — except they will have to. We're nearly a third of the way through this novel (and, albeit not by King's standards, it's a long book) before the narrator, 17-year-old Charlie Reade, makes his way from our world into the magical land of Empis. Before that, Charlie tells us in leisurely style (“Said it before, but it bears repeating” is a characteristic phrase) about the death of his mother when he was eight, and his descent into hooliganism, while his father, the latest in King's long line of decent men undone by drink, was spending his days stupefied.
Eventually, Charlie turns to prayer, promising to straighten up if his father is saved, and the next day Alcoholics Anonymous — the answer to King's prayers in real life, and those of many of the characters in his later fiction — steps in. Charlie keeps up his side of the bargain by taking on carer duties for Mr. Bowditch, a cranky, reclusive resident of his small Illinois hometown, after the old boy breaks his leg. Their friendship unfolds slowly and realistically, with only the strange noises coming from
Mr. Bowditch's shed as a clue to the dramatic change of narrative style to come.
Not before time, Mr. Bowditch reveals his secret: his shed is built over a boarded-up portal to Empis, and if Charlie can escort Radar, Bowditch's ailing German shepherd, to the magical age-reversing sundial in the city of Lalimar, he can restore the pooch to health. So Charlie and Radar make the long journey, encountering many disfigured refugees, some clutching dead babies (this fairy tale is far from PG), who have been struck down by the “grey curse” inflicted on Empis by its evil, unlawful ruler. Could Charlie be the long-prophesied prince from a far-off land who will restore the country to its people?
This novel is a thing of shreds and patches, borrowing from the Brothers Grimm, Treasure Island, The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland and even Ray Bradbury. There is a splendid climactic battle written in a parody of HP Lovecraft's irresistibly overwrought prose.
King's delight in the world he has created is infectious and there's much to revel in here: I enjoyed the giantess whose song has the refrain “Stick me with your prong-de-dong” — “I had an idea that probably wasn't from the Brothers Grimm,” observes Charlie — and whose tremendous farts are memorably evoked as reminiscent of the trombone break in Midnight in Moscow.