Wednesday 14 November 2012

Jack Lights Out

I first read this book when I was about thirteen or fourteen, I think, so it was an easy ten years ago at least, and coming back to it now I'm surprised by how much more clearly I can visualize almost everything.

I find myself wondering, often and consistently, if I was smarter when I was younger. I remember my thoughts being faster, or I think I do, like some quicksilver quality of my mind has started to slip away as I age, like I'm in a decline by the time I hit 25. That's not an entirely reasonable fear, but I am aware that the way my mind works is changing an it kind of frightens me because that means I'm necessarily losing parts of myself, like everyone does.

In that I share something with Jack, and I'm always surprised when book characters make me realize that about myself. Jack is a kid whose entire sense of self, in the beginning of the story, is framed by the losses he has either experienced or might experience. That's powerful stuff, especially when it makes you feel the loss too.

One of my favorite bits in stories is the stranger who comes to town, or the Bad Man. Now it can be a bad woman, too, but in lots of modern stories - especially King stories - it's the Bad Man, the man in black who scares you in ways that are different from a witch or wizard (I can't think of many Bad Women in the same vein as Flagg, if any, but I think that kind of character should be fairly easy to pull off). And Morgan Sloat, on the phone, comes across like a Bad Man, but he's overshadowed by a more effective device, which is the Bad World, where the entire world appears to be focused on making things bad for the hero, and coming apart at the seams for the sake of spiting him. The little dip in the sand, that swirls and blinks and laughs? That's as bad as it gets.

I like that stuff.

I just got to a bit where Jack drank the juice. Hopefully will be reading a bit more from here on in.

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