Book Review: 'Misery'
Stephen King's Misery focuses on Paul Sheldon, a
writer who has made a comfortable living for himself by writing a series of
Harlequin-type historical romances featuring a gorgeous English woman named
Misery Chastain. For millions of his mostly-female readers, the romantic
adventures of Misery are as riveting as, say, the mayhem endured by Jack Bauer
on 24, and although Paul was willing to write more books in the series
to get those royalty checks, he is now growing weary of his character and her
non-contemporary world. And, like many novelists, he wants to get on with the
business of writing a serious work that might place him on the same literary
level as Faulkner, Steinbeck and Hemingway Giving in to his heart’s desire, he
does what his legions of fans and his agent least expect him to do: he kills
off Misery Chastain.
Unfortunately, when Paul is involved in a one-car accident out in the middle of nowhere, he’s saved from certain death by Annie Wilkes, a former nurse who also happens to be one of his most loyal readers – “I’m your Number One Fan,” she declares several times – and although she is surprised that she has saved her favorite author’s life she’s none too pleased at Misery’s literary demise.
By now, the plot of Misery -- adapted in 1990 by Rob Reiner into a classy film – is a familiar one; Annie is not just a dedicated reader, but a disturbed woman with homicidal tendencies, tendencies that surface when she finds out that Paul will not revive Misery Chastain but instead wants to do a “serious novel” that has nothing to do with romance, the 19th Century, or England. Angrily, she gives Paul, who is now more prisoner than patient, a choice: write a new Misery novel right now or die.
As a best-selling “genre” author, King is all too acquainted with both the effect of his horror novels on the public and the sometimes-extreme behavior of some of his more obsessive (and unhinged) fans. He has, in his non-fiction book Danse Macabre, mentioned a few instances in which his works have “inspired” a few nuts to do bizarre things.
Thus, it’s not hard to see Misery, one of the best of his mid-1980s novels, as an exploration of King’s feelings about the love he has for the fine art of writing, the “nuts and bolts” of the creative/storytelling process, the dangers of being “pigeonholed” into a single literary genre, and the ambiguous relationship between an author and his fans.
At 310 pages, this is one of King’s more focused novels. Confined as it is to Annie’s house, it’s a crisply-written duel of wills between captive and captor and an insightful examination of the writing process – within Misery, there is the rough draft of Misery’s Return as Paul labors to write it using a “dying” Royal typewriter that sheds letters as the new work progresses. Creepy without werewolves and vampires, Misery is horror at its best.
Unfortunately, when Paul is involved in a one-car accident out in the middle of nowhere, he’s saved from certain death by Annie Wilkes, a former nurse who also happens to be one of his most loyal readers – “I’m your Number One Fan,” she declares several times – and although she is surprised that she has saved her favorite author’s life she’s none too pleased at Misery’s literary demise.
By now, the plot of Misery -- adapted in 1990 by Rob Reiner into a classy film – is a familiar one; Annie is not just a dedicated reader, but a disturbed woman with homicidal tendencies, tendencies that surface when she finds out that Paul will not revive Misery Chastain but instead wants to do a “serious novel” that has nothing to do with romance, the 19th Century, or England. Angrily, she gives Paul, who is now more prisoner than patient, a choice: write a new Misery novel right now or die.
As a best-selling “genre” author, King is all too acquainted with both the effect of his horror novels on the public and the sometimes-extreme behavior of some of his more obsessive (and unhinged) fans. He has, in his non-fiction book Danse Macabre, mentioned a few instances in which his works have “inspired” a few nuts to do bizarre things.
Thus, it’s not hard to see Misery, one of the best of his mid-1980s novels, as an exploration of King’s feelings about the love he has for the fine art of writing, the “nuts and bolts” of the creative/storytelling process, the dangers of being “pigeonholed” into a single literary genre, and the ambiguous relationship between an author and his fans.
At 310 pages, this is one of King’s more focused novels. Confined as it is to Annie’s house, it’s a crisply-written duel of wills between captive and captor and an insightful examination of the writing process – within Misery, there is the rough draft of Misery’s Return as Paul labors to write it using a “dying” Royal typewriter that sheds letters as the new work progresses. Creepy without werewolves and vampires, Misery is horror at its best.
Comments
Post a Comment