Inspiring Older Readers
Misery by Stephen King
I don’t think anyone picks up a Stephen King novel when they’re looking for a cosy read and I really needed something spikey and distracting to see me through a trans-Atlantic flight from North Carolina to London Heathrow. Popular though King is I’ve only read one novel of his before this – The Shining – but I’d coincidently been reading a review of Misery that appeared in The Guardian back in 2013 when James Smythe wrote of the book that:
“Misery is the strangest of them all, however, because it barely relates to any of King's other books. Instead? It's one of the greatest thrillers ever written.”
‘One of the greatest thrillers ever written’ has to be something that needs investigating as far as I’m concerned – if not to test out the hyperbole then to check out a book from a writer of horror and supernatural fiction that has no element of either in it.
But this is Stephen King after all and although it may not be easily slotted into a convenient or familiar genre, it’s still a pretty emotionally draining and frequently painful and bloody experience.
Commentators and critics of King’s work tend to note the same things when it comes to writing about Misery – the book came out during an incredibly productive period in the author’s career, many aspects of the book are autobiographical and it is possible to read the story as an allegory of King’s own drug dependency habit that he was trying to kick at that time. All of which seem to me, having now read the book, to be entirely possible and pertinent things to have in mind.
But the real triumph of the book isn’t what lies behind it but the sheer power of the storytelling. Some years ago I had seen the movie that was made of the book (the one starring Kathy Bates and James Caan) and watchable though it was it left me feeling a bit ‘meh’ – if you know what I mean. What the film lacked of course was the breath-taking ability King’s prose has to conjure the graphic internal cosmos of the characters as well as the gripping tension of the action.
I’m not sure how much of the plot I need to recap here because it is now a well-known trope all of its own. A successful writer, Paul Shelton, famous for a series of bodice-ripper novels featuring a character called Misery Chastain has just killed off his heroine and written another novel that’s still only in manuscript form but is the polar opposite of his romances. Following a car crash on a snowy road he finds himself being tended to by Annie Wilkes who declares herself his ‘biggest fan’. Shelton’s legs have been shattered and he rapidly becomes dependent on Annie and her supply of opiate drugs - but it soon becomes evident that he’s not being cared for so much as being held prisoner.
Annie is clearly emotionally and mentally unstable and forces Paul to burn his latest manuscript and write another book resurrecting Misery Chastain – something she does by excruciating physical and emotional pain.
I’m not going to detail here the way the story develops but it’s not really a spoiler to say that Annie’s behaviour and the unfolding of her background story are all wrapped up in her escalating acts of bloody violence. We, along with Paul, know that if he doesn’t escape he will die and much of the tension in the novel revolves around whether he will actually make that escape and how much of him will be left if he does get out.
What is hard to get across here is the intense, cloying, claustrophobia of the book. From the very beginning the tension dial is set to 11 on a ten point scale and somehow King manages to ratchet that up even more as the plot develops. King had had his own run-in with fans disappointed by his failure to stick rigidly to the horror genre and his own drug dependency clearly enables him to write authentically and convincingly about Paul’s growing addiction to pain medication. But it really is Annie, the coiled spring just waiting to snap, who brings that edge of terror to proceedings. That she’s unhinged is evident from the outset but just how dangerously mentally ill she is we are left to experience along with the helpless and hapless Shelton.
The book was reviewed on its release by Publisher’s Weekly and they pick up what I think would be easy to overlook – just how thoughtful and multi-layered the story becomes and the way King uses it to look at issues above and beyond the hostage thriller:
“Studded among the frightening moments are sparkling reflections on the writer and his audience, on the difficulties, joys and responsibilities of being a storyteller, on the nature of the muse, on the differences between ``serious'' and ``popular'' writing. Sheldon is a revealingly autobiographical figure; Annie is not merely a monster but is subtly and often touchingly portrayed, allowing hostage and keeper a believable, if twisted, relationship. The best parts of this novel demand that we take King seriously as a writer with a deeply felt understanding of human psychology.”
So, is it ‘one of the greatest thrillers ever written’ ? I really don’t know but what I can say is that it’s a magnificent, powerful and distressingly disturbing book and one that will stay with you for a long time after you’ve closed the covers.
Terry Potter
July 2019