home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1993
/
TIME Almanac 1993.iso
/
time
/
112089
/
11208900.080
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1992-09-23
|
3KB
|
53 lines
BOOKS, Page 105Slice of Death
THE DARK HALF
by Stephen King
Viking; 431 pages; $21.95
Another Stephen King blood leaker is loosed upon the world,
this one in a record first printing of 1.5 million copies. The
ghost of Gutenberg, calling feebly for beer from the gridiron
of some Germanic hell, must be wondering whether movable type
was really a good idea.
That is snobbery, of course, and a reader addicted to
another sort of trash -- detective stories, say -- must distrust
his instinct to ridicule horror novels. But in each genre there
is good trash and bad trash, and King's does not seem very good.
Mention this to a fan -- young, intelligent, well read -- and
the reply is the same as is heard, above the level of pop lit,
when one more dismal fiction by Joyce Carol Oates appears: "Yes,
but you should read the early books."
In his new thunderation, the first of four in a reported
$30 million to $40 million publishing deal, the author plays
with a twist of the old good-twin, bad-twin theme. Novelist Thad
Beaumont, who lives in Maine (as does King), collided with
writer's block a few years ago and rescued his career by writing
four novels under the pseudonym of George Stark (just as King
has written five novels as Richard Bachman). These tales, unlike
Beaumont's, were violent, brutal and very successful. Now
Beaumont, writing on his own again, wants to bury Stark.
No dice. Stark, actually the ghost of Beaumont's fetal
twin, who was incompletely absorbed in utero (the medical horror
here is the book's only high-voltage shocker), comes to life as
a cunning psychopath who, somewhat ludicrously, is determined
to keep on writing. He slices up Beaumont's agent and editor and
several other innocents with a straight razor, in scenes so
lovingly detailed they would be called pornographic if the
author had given the same attention to sex.
As usual, King's prose is fast, simple and sloppy. He has
young Beaumont in 1960 use the current slang "get off on,"
meaning enjoy, and lets an elderly English professor say he will
"loan" the hero a car (old pedants say "lend"). The climax has
the brutish Stark absurdly trying to write another novel to keep
his ectoplasm from sloughing away in rivulets of goo.
Characterization is perfunctory, with an odd exception:
Beaumont's eight-month-old twin babies are vividly and
charmingly described. For King fans this may be the sort of
thing that sustains the myth that "he writes so well."