Friday, November 2, 2018

#46. "Gerald's Game" by Stephen King

There's a lot of easy jokes to be made from describing Stephen King's "Gerald's Game" premise in one sentence. It could be seen as a bedtime story, or even a brutal feminist satire of the erotic novel. It's a lot of concepts that the writer hasn't normally been known for, at least not without mincing words. In this story, he creates what is arguably among the grossest and most uncomfortable stories he's ever written - and it's not because of any supernatural elements. No, it owes a lot of credit to what happens when a little round of S&M goes south and it sends Jessie into an existential crisis that includes a peak into her child molestation. These are all dicey subjects that would require deep nuance to not come across as icky. While King applies them to a quasi-supernatural premise that undoes certain elements of the book, it's effective enough as an exercise but will probably scar those squeamish to certain bodily injuries. It's what King is good at, though sometimes not in a good way.


Speaking a King has written expansive novels that have even explored the limitless potential of the world, "Gerald's Game" seems like a refreshing shift at first. He has dropped the complicated plot and boiled a story down to a simple premise: how is Jessie, wife of Gerald, going to get out of a pair of handcuffs while latched to a bed? The early pages are probably some of the more staggering introductory pages that the author has written, mixing explicit sexual language with this overbearing sense of discomfort. It's a slow shift as the titular game turns from fun to selfish and sadistic. Soon, Jessie is in a trap and unable to escape. She is naked in a bed and has nothing to entertain her except a rotting corpse and a series of plot devices that service the later plot.

As one can guess, the story becomes largely insular as things go on. Jessie's attachment to the bed becomes a deeper metaphor for her own submissive behavior. She is someone who hasn't been too assured about her femininity, latching onto male figures that have abused her. The bed is her latched freedom both literally and figuratively. If she can break the chains, she can be strong and independent. However, that's something that must happen over the course of around 400 pages. King is meticulous in his writing, managing to create dread out of the presence of a feral dog who enters the house. He also finds memorable moments within delusions in Jessie's head that coaxes her through the situation. As a whole, it's a miracle that the novel works in spite of its limited premise, However, it's also a bit too loaded to fully embrace its pulpy nature.

In what is probably an intentional satire of the erotic novel, King gets gross. Before the third act sends the reader into a prolonged disturbing image that manages to be graphic even on the page, there is the sense that King wants to demystify sex from a submissive perspective. Jessie's wrists are damaged from hanging in the handcuffs. Her shoulders are full of sharp pain as her throat loses voice. Even her lower orifices have soiled the bed with another unpleasantness. It's byfar one of the grossest things that King has wrote likely because he wants the reader to feel for the suffering of Jessie. It's the joy she'll get from escaping from this humiliation. The good news is that he manages to maintain the surprise getaway until it's absolutely necessary, but even then it's even more unpleasant. It may be desensitized by the couple hundred pages the precede it, but it's still gross and unpleasant.

The book was supposed to be the author's attempt to write something exploring female sexuality. There's no denying that he does so with a lot of jarring and sometimes powerful images. However, he's first and foremost the author behind horror and supernatural hits like "It" and "The Shining." He hadn't quite gotten the nuance of human character down at this point, relying on a supporting supernatural character at one point that adds little to the story. Even the third act is drawn out long after it serves plot convenience. For a story that doesn't have more than one central premise to worry about, it does meander quite a bit. Some of it expertly makes the discomfort feel real to the reader, though it then depends on how much you're willing to just go along with the queasiness of those pages. It is after all a woman bruised and damaged for 70% of its running time. That's not exactly easy reading.

"Gerald's Game" isn't a story that is easy to approach and thus may be among King's more esoteric titles. Even as he explores poignant themes, he gives the reader a fascinating story in an unpleasant texture. To see the writer addressing feminism in the 90's is at least a relief, as he seems to be working out issues that were even present in earlier books, such as Beverly in "It." He may have created something so plodding and torturous to more innocent readers, but at least there's a creativity to it that works. It's among his weaker books, but it succeeds in being just as intense and uncomfortable as it wants to be. Few books can proudly be this effectively poignant and off-putting at the same time. Then again, there are few books that King wrote that are this much of a deceptive character study. 

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