I was a big time fan boy of Stephen King early in his career. Each new book enhanced my admiration for him and I always looked forward to new stuff as the years rolled by. Then something happened. He got cocky. He seemed to think his need for editing went away. I stopped reading him when his books grew in size but not quality and schlocky movies or television series got made from them.
Three or four years ago I was intrigued by the concept of his book “Under the Dome” and thought I might, someday, give it a go. I remember the reviews being pretty good and that helped my resolve. Anyway, a cross-country trip loomed last month and I thought it might be good air travel reading and, encouraged by my sister’s “Is there anything you want while I’m out?” I asked her to pick up the paperback version of “Dome” for me. Neither of us realized what that entailed at the time but she did as I requested. Big mistake.
“Big” being the defining word here. If any book cries out for the purchase of a Kindle this might be it. It is 1,074 pages long and it weighs three pounds (I’m not kidding; I weighed it). And this is the “pocketbook” version! So much for airplane reading.
Upon my return from my trip I embarked on another one in trying to read Under the Dome. I pretty much knew what to expect since I’m well aware of Mr. King’s assets and shortcomings. What I didn’t expect is that I can’t read it in bed or, for that matter just sitting comfortably on the couch, a diet Dr. Pepper and a bag of Fritos close at hand. Reading it in bed was impossible because, when I tried it, I suffered a paper cut in the webbing between my finger and thumb when juggling the tome to turn a page.
As a consequence I am now reading the book sitting on a tall stool at my kitchen counter so I can utilize its surface to lay it flat and turn the pages without doing damage to my fingers or creating possible carpel tunnel symptoms. I’m up to page 652 now and will plow ahead to the end. Yes, plow. Oh, Stephen, whence the winding road you have traveled since the wonder of “Salem’s Lot.”
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Update May 27, 2013: In the Author's Note at the end of the book Mr. King thanks various people including Nan Graham who "edited the book down from the original dinosaur to a beast of slightly more manageable size." I suppose he is right but the book is still a very clumsy hippo and I suspect that's not her fault. I can't even fathom what it must have been as a dinosaur. My paper cuts are healing nicely, thank you.
This monument is
called “Triumph of Civic Virtue” and it’s a fugitive from artistic justice. “Civic Virtue” is symbolized by a handsome,
muscular youth (with a jaunty sword) and “Vice” is represented by writhing
naked women and, yes, snakes. Guess who
wins. This fright was recently relocated
to Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn and, although I would like to say it was
done in the dead of night, it was actually approved by those folks at
Green-Wood who decide such things.
Instead of letting it crumble to dust as it should have, it was moved
from the Civic Center in the borough of Queens to its present location. Another “What were they thinking?” moment in
the history of art.
