Finished - Firestarter
Jan. 1st, 2006 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mokie_shifuFirestarter - Stephen King
linkage coming later!
(There's nothing like a move to make you simplify. I'll be eliminating the publication info unless offering quotations, because damn y'all, the point of the read-along log is to keep quick notes on what I'm reading, and it's hard to keep quick notes when you have to stop and look things up.)
First, I loved the development of and the contrast between Charlie's relationship with her father Andy and her relationship with Rainbird, the father-figure who betrays her. (It's no spoiler, trust me.) From Andy anxiously coaxing a whiny child to use her power to help them escape the Shop versus Rainbird offering a calmly logical perspective on cooperation (still not a spoiler), to Rainbird's careful preparations for the future versus Andy's utter idiocy that even panicked flight cannot explain ("We're fleeing a powerful and secretive government agency that probably has extensive files on us and everyone with whom we've ever crossed paths. I know, let's go to my cabin in the woods! They'll never look for us there!" And nope, that's still not a spoiler), the two men are night and day in a very interesting way.
Beyond that, however, is the perspective each has on Charlie, and how well that works for the story. To Andy, she's always his little girl and we always hear her described in that way, as a tiny and fragile thing incapable of protecting herself--either from detection, as we see in his thoughts on the holes in her story at the Manders farm, or from herself, as we see in his worry that she can't control the power when she finally unleashes it. Although Rainbird describes himself as a placebo paternal figure in his own plans, his admiration of Charlie's guts, his assessment of her intelligence, even his thoughts on her appearance, never feel fatherly. When he thinks about his love for her, it's with a creepy predatory undertone that's almost sexual (especially when one puts George C. Scott out of mind--while Scott is plenty creepy in his own right, Rainbird works much better as described by King).
One could argue that the story is all about a little girl growing up into a young woman, the betrayal of innocence and whatnot. Take all of that psych talk about women looking for their father in a potential mate and read a bit too much symbolism into Rainbird's desire to kill Charlie, observe the end-o-the-book Charlie who takes the necessary adult actions on her own and also the passing comment about some young man almost falling in love with her after a fleeting smile, and you've got all of the ingredients for a nice book report.
I'm not sure I'd agree, but then, I'm not sure I wouldn't either. I'm not sure if it's finishing the book while sick or the book itself, but there are a number of ideas about the story I'd need to talk out to nail down, and that requires someone on hand who's also recently read it, and I don't see that happening in the near future.
Finally, what didn't I like? The same thing I never like in King's books: his tendency to throw in his own spoilers. "The day when all hell broke loose and the devil came to Georgia started off like any other," or "On the morning of the last day of his life," and so on. I know the idea is to create a sense of anticipatory dread and tension in which the reader must keep reading to find out what happens, but it deflates my balloon a bit and makes me wonder why he can't just let us get there when it happens. It's even worse when he tells us this on page 135 (for example) and the story then tangents down three different character's perspectives, hops back and forth through a few flashbacks, shuffles off for a dream sequence, and then gets around to the actual aforementioned destruction a hundred pages later.
Mind, the tangents and flashbacks and dream sequences that diffuse the spoiler actually work out for me, giving me time to regain the momentum the spoiler cost me, so, it all works out.
linkage coming later!
(There's nothing like a move to make you simplify. I'll be eliminating the publication info unless offering quotations, because damn y'all, the point of the read-along log is to keep quick notes on what I'm reading, and it's hard to keep quick notes when you have to stop and look things up.)
First, I loved the development of and the contrast between Charlie's relationship with her father Andy and her relationship with Rainbird, the father-figure who betrays her. (It's no spoiler, trust me.) From Andy anxiously coaxing a whiny child to use her power to help them escape the Shop versus Rainbird offering a calmly logical perspective on cooperation (still not a spoiler), to Rainbird's careful preparations for the future versus Andy's utter idiocy that even panicked flight cannot explain ("We're fleeing a powerful and secretive government agency that probably has extensive files on us and everyone with whom we've ever crossed paths. I know, let's go to my cabin in the woods! They'll never look for us there!" And nope, that's still not a spoiler), the two men are night and day in a very interesting way.
Beyond that, however, is the perspective each has on Charlie, and how well that works for the story. To Andy, she's always his little girl and we always hear her described in that way, as a tiny and fragile thing incapable of protecting herself--either from detection, as we see in his thoughts on the holes in her story at the Manders farm, or from herself, as we see in his worry that she can't control the power when she finally unleashes it. Although Rainbird describes himself as a placebo paternal figure in his own plans, his admiration of Charlie's guts, his assessment of her intelligence, even his thoughts on her appearance, never feel fatherly. When he thinks about his love for her, it's with a creepy predatory undertone that's almost sexual (especially when one puts George C. Scott out of mind--while Scott is plenty creepy in his own right, Rainbird works much better as described by King).
One could argue that the story is all about a little girl growing up into a young woman, the betrayal of innocence and whatnot. Take all of that psych talk about women looking for their father in a potential mate and read a bit too much symbolism into Rainbird's desire to kill Charlie, observe the end-o-the-book Charlie who takes the necessary adult actions on her own and also the passing comment about some young man almost falling in love with her after a fleeting smile, and you've got all of the ingredients for a nice book report.
I'm not sure I'd agree, but then, I'm not sure I wouldn't either. I'm not sure if it's finishing the book while sick or the book itself, but there are a number of ideas about the story I'd need to talk out to nail down, and that requires someone on hand who's also recently read it, and I don't see that happening in the near future.
Finally, what didn't I like? The same thing I never like in King's books: his tendency to throw in his own spoilers. "The day when all hell broke loose and the devil came to Georgia started off like any other," or "On the morning of the last day of his life," and so on. I know the idea is to create a sense of anticipatory dread and tension in which the reader must keep reading to find out what happens, but it deflates my balloon a bit and makes me wonder why he can't just let us get there when it happens. It's even worse when he tells us this on page 135 (for example) and the story then tangents down three different character's perspectives, hops back and forth through a few flashbacks, shuffles off for a dream sequence, and then gets around to the actual aforementioned destruction a hundred pages later.
Mind, the tangents and flashbacks and dream sequences that diffuse the spoiler actually work out for me, giving me time to regain the momentum the spoiler cost me, so, it all works out.
