The Gunslinger by Stephen King

If I'm lucky, my commute to or from work each day is about 30 minutes long. That gives me an hour a day to take in a story (or sometimes more, if I'm unlucky). With my eyes on the road and the drive taking up some of my concentration, I can't take in too complex a story but when I saw Stephen King's Gunslinger book I thought it would serve for a few day's entertainment.

Only after I started it did I learn that this was the first of a series of 7 books which Stephen King considers his magnum opus, and which take in by reference throughout a variety of his other fiction. (Thank you, wikipedia.)

I found it entertaining to listen within the story for the references to previous King stories such as The Stand and The Eyes of the Dragon; I'm the type who likes to hunt for easter eggs in software too. The main character, Roland Deschains, was not compelling to me, but the characters he encountered were - I truly wanted to know more about the naif Jake and the wizardly Man in Black. Sadly, at the conclusion of the story these two seem to be leaving the story arc (though one can never tell, it is authorial fashion to bring back supposedly dead characters from time to time). The ruins of the ancient civilization that the travelers pass through underground were fascinating, as were the mutants they encounter. I'm not sure yet if I'll be reading the next book in the series; it is hard for me to engage with a series that lacks a strong central character, and Roland just wasn't such a strong presence for me.

Pure blood-sucking evil

I recently re-read Salem's Lot by Stephen King, perhaps in some irrational avoidance of a commitment to read Bram Stoker's Dracula for a 2006 challenge. I read Salem's Lot first more than 20 years ago, and the story stayed with me. But the details were vague.

Salem's Lot is clearly a derivative work, intentionally so - the introduction by the author is a wonderful explanation of his approach and motivations. But it is derivative in the sense that an heir is derivative of one's ancestors - the comic book vampires, Stoker's masterwork, and all the other stories of blood-suckers over the years.

Barlow, the villain of Salem's Lot is first only referenced obliquely by reference from other characters. This highly clever ruse of secreting the villain away succeeds wildly - such that the villains first intro in the junkyard seems as well orchestrated as a formal debutante ball in the finest noble estate.

Comparing Barlow to other favorite vampires - LeStat, Silas, and the current crop of vampires in horror films - Barlow comes off as the most evil - unrepentantly evil - of them all. And compared to the current crop of dewy-eyed, sympathetic vampires cropping up in teen chic lit books, he cuts a sinister figure.

So now I should really read Dracula, right?