It seems like an age since I read Duma Key and returned to my usual state of waiting for the next King novel. Now his next, Under the Dome, is well and truly on the radar my thoughts have turned to all the wonderful hours I have spent engrossed in his fiction.
This got me into musing which of his novels did I enjoy the most? A bold territory, granted. Not unlike being asked to choose between who gets the bullet between Kylie and Dannii (for me, anyway); I’d be happy with which was left, but it would always feel like…cheating.
I had to start thinking about what my question meant. What, in fact, was I looking for? Through some serious pondering time spent reminiscing at my bookshelf, I realized that there is an important difference that needs to be distinguished. That is the difference between that which I consider to be my favorite and that which I consider to be the best. One in the same, you may assume. Not so, says I.
I think this is a misconception that is made too often these days. In today’s media saturated world there many easy channels for people to express their opinions and from that is born a society that is very quick to judge; it’s either good or it’s shit. Not necessarily a bad thing, as long as the judgment is based on the right factors.
In order to make a fair decision about the quality of…anything, it is important to put your personal preferences to one side, or else you will simply be judging whether you like it. Not the same thing.
For example, I have grown up listening to some very dubious heavy metal bands, all of which I have grown to love deeply. As a younger fan I would defend their credibility deeply, as I was naïve in the complexities of song composition. As I grew older and became more familiar with some of the master songsmiths I realized that my favorite bands did not hold up under scrutiny when put head-to-head with the best, although they would probably win in a bar brawl.
And so, I learned to appreciate that Judas Priest, although my favorite is not the best band around. On, the flip side of that I learned that I consider a band to be great through appreciation of their work without having to consider their work a favorite of mine, or even to like it for that fact.
Let’s face it, whether you like Sgt Pepper’s or not; Dark Side of the Moon or not; or Pet Sounds or not, if you put your taste to one-side you can’t deny the quality of the work.
Anyway, I digress. The point is I want to decide which is my favorite King novel, not which I believe the critics would say is the best.
Although I have to say that I haven’t read a King novel I haven’t enjoyed, I soon realized there are a couple that seemed to have bored a special place in my heart. Those two are The Stand and It.
Both bodies of work are vast – perhaps this is why I like them so much. King has given himself room to breathe and allow his descriptive and character development skills the full run of the field which are the aspects of King’s writing I like the best. I admire the balls it requires to stand toe-to-toe with such daunting plots and to complete the challenge. As someone who finds it difficult to write a short story through to completion I think this is a very commendable attribute.
I love the apocalyptic aspect of The Stand, and the way King captures the human reaction to a catastrophic event, the enormity of the human will to survive and also the fragility of the human condition. The way the story follows the detail of the genesis of the biological disaster, through the encounters of the main groups of characters on their journey to survival and the eventual attempt to regenerate society and thusly the human race kept me hooked throughout.
However, as much as I love The Stand I have concluded that It is my favorite King novel…so far.
I first read It when I was in secondary school, despite much protestation from my teachers at the time who thought that such a book was unsuitable for school reading (heaven forefend a student should actually enjoy reading – there’s clearly something wrong with the child!).
Such is the book’s enormity and so slow was my reading at the time that it took me about sixth months to get through, and I must admit that some of the subject matter was over my head at the time. Despite this something about the book hooked me.
I fell in love with the idea that a group of children could be involved in a horror story that adults were unaware of. It was this idea that also terrified me. As a child we take comfort from the boogie-man in the arms of an adult, the hug of a loving parent banishes the demons that come out when the light goes out. The thought of these poor children experiencing a nightmare that did not go away when they ran to their safe place, indeed it was more likely to happen there than anywhere else terrified me.
I loved that King finds horror in those things that we consider being where we can find the most comfort; our town, our family, our house, and most importantly (and terrifyingly) our home. For me this is where true horror lurks.
Of course, monsters from outer space, beasts from a parallel universe and demons from the underworld are scary. But we all know that when the morning breaks the nightmare is over. But to make the horror part of our home, an ancient evil that has bled its way into the very fabric of the community, the Derry disease, is a pure masterstroke.
That is why I love It so much. That is why I have read it four times, each time just as excited as the first, just as anxious to turn the page, and just as excited to catch up with my old friends down at the Barrens, the Losers’ Club.
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