Shining (The Shining)

by Stephen King

[Amber (The Literary Phoenix)]

Up until about six months ago, I was unfamiliar with The Shining.  I mean, of course, I knew the "Here's Johnny!" famous scene and the classic film references, but I had never seen the movie and never read the book.  My loves, I have been educating myself - after all, what better time to read about murderers and snowed in isolation than during a quarantine, right?

Tasteless jokes aside, I understand why The Shining is such a gripping book.  It's a great example of everything Stephen King - a little creepy, a little science-fiction, and a whole lot of slow build.  The world of the Overlook Hotel is haunting and intriguing, and he plays so well on the idea of the haunted hotel, something that truly permeates modern ghost stories.

Focusing solely on the book and erasing the film from my mind (as hard as that is) I was shocked and precisely how haunted The Overlook is... and the sheer madness that the owners have been so successful in keeping it all quiet.  That seems like another story behind the scenes, some secret swallowed by Jack's friend Al that only Stephen King knows.  There are ghosts and specters of some sort in nearly every scene once the snow moves in, and I really appreciated how much King uses bad luck to hamper his characters.  More than a ghost story, The Shining feels like a psychological thriller, a dark story of magical realism, and a mystery rolled into a blood-soaked horror blanket and it's wonderfully done.

I was also impressed with the characters, something else I didn't expect after experiencing the iconic film.  Of course, Jack Torrance is as round and broken as he has ever been, but there was a normality to Danny and resolute trust to Wendy that made me admire both of them.  I was invested in the fates of all three family members, for different reasons.  Of course, and perhaps the most impressive of the lot, is the character of the hotel itself.  We start with it's charm and grandeur, but without the people whose souls it feeds, the hotel becomes a dark, malicious thing.  It is manipulative and patient and hungry and just utterly fabulous.

As always, you must forgive King a bit of his writing because the pace, especially early in the book, is painfully slow.  Not to the point of The Stand, perhaps, but enough to try the reader's patience as they wait for the murdering to commence.  It's difficult to go into The Shining these days and not have a vague idea of what's coming, but nonetheless Jack and Wendy's history can be... trying to read.  As the slow, initial world building is simply King's writing style, it's something that must be endured if you want to experience the rest of the story.

Of all the King books I've read, The Shining has the strongest world building (save, of course, his Dark Tower series).  This may do in part with the personification of the hotel, but I think it's also thanks to the extreme weather conditions, Jack's addiction, and the colors and variety of the various hauntings.  It's easy to be pulled into this world, for better or worse.  As long as there's nothing creeping behind your shower curtain, you'll probably be fine.