Bag of Bones was my first Stephen King since I'd read the monumental
The Stand when I was a teenager. I don't suppose it will be my last. One of the first things I enjoyed about this novel was the protagonist's mention of a Thomas Hardy quote, comparing the dullest human on the face of the earth to the most brilliantly drawn fiction character, and ultimately stating that the fiction character is still nothing more than a "bag of bones" compared to a living person (however dull). I think the quote conveys well how impossible the task of an author sometimes feels--as well as provide a phrase almost tailor-made for a Stephen King title.
The main character is Michael Noonan, an author perpetually on the latter end of the top 15 on the New York Times bestseller list. He also refers to himself as "V.C. Andrews with a prick." I guess if you are the sort of person who's always been curious about the inner life of an author or what it must be like to be an author with any measure of success, this book might satisfy some of that curiosity in a small fictionalized way.
I won't go too far into plot synopsis, but here are a few highlights...the protagonist's wife dies 4 years prior to the action of the story and he's been suffering from severe writer's block ever since--he has a horrific panic attack every time he starts up his word processing software on his computer. He has been prolific enough in years past to set aside several complete manuscripts in a safe deposit box, which he carefully doles out to his publisher as the years tick by. He then decides to face his fears and confront a recurring nightmare at a lake house he's never visited since his wife's death.
After settling in, he notices some odd things like bells ringing of their own accord, sounds of a child crying, and refrigerator magnets spelling out messages to him. He also meets the beautiful and poor Mattie Devore, who had the misfortune of marrying and having a child by the son of the wealthiest man in town. The son is deceased (freak accident during a lightning storm). The wealthy man, Max Devore, wants to raise the child himself and is fighting the young mother for custody. When Michael Noonan falls in love with her (about two seconds after he accidentally brushes up against her perky breasts), he decides to help her.
More mystery crops up in the realm of the lake house as he realizes slowly that there are perhaps a legion of ghosts haunting the area, including his own wife and a black woman who was at one time a well known blues singer. Some things I could gladly have done without--such as the protagonist's tiresome and endless references to the "blue steel" of his erection that seemed to emerge from his jockey shorts at the slightest provocation. The detail of the gang rape scene was more than I bargained for, but it was perhaps important to explain the anger of the ghosts and why the haunting had been going on for three generations now. I also felt like the ending was overly dramatized to the point of nonsense. King describes every move the protagonist makes during the last harrowing pages, and you're along for the ride with very little understanding of what's going on or why it's going on. It honestly felt a little rushed and not entirely well thought out.
There were some thoroughly horrific moments that scared the heck out of me, very much what I had hoped for and expected. King has always known how to create dread, draw it out, and then torturously linger over the fine details of whatever hellish scene he's created. By the time he was through with me, I never wanted to look under a bed, swim in a lake, or walk down a gravel driveway at nightfall ever again. But yeah, I might pick up a Stephen King book again, maybe.
529 pages
Love in a Nutshell by Janet Evanovich and Dorien Kelly 320 pages
The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh 308 pages
This novel, first published in 1943, is considered a classic. Even though it was written almost 70 years ago, it does not feel at all dated. It was based on the author's life, and is a vivid protrayal of the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York City, as Francie Nolan was growing up there in the early 1900's. Her father is a singing waiter who works sporadically, and her mother is a janitress. They are very poor; the children scavenge for items to sell to the junk man, and they often go hungry. Yet there is joy and love and, yes, fun. In the end, there is triumph as they manage to lift themselves out of the grinding poverty that their families have known for generations. This book is a testament to the endurance of the human spirit. I highly recommend it.
