One of the most popular tropes in Stephen King's bibliography is focusing on writers in mental distress. With the case of "Misery," he finds Paul Sheldon stuck in a compromised state following a car crash in Colorado. His "number one fan" Annie Wilkes has rescued him and will do anything to get him to get back to writing. The only catch is that he must write about her beloved character Misery, whom Sheldon had recently killed off. In order to appease the increasingly unstable host, he abides and does everything to keep her happy. The only catch is that things get from bad to worse quickly in typical King fashion before diving into a fairly deranged third act that makes it one of the most uneven King classics from the 80s. It's a story with plenty of his engrossing prose and moments of sheer brilliance, but it's also the same old song and dance, keeping it from being something more.
A big conflict with "Misery" is that King has written better books about writers in constrained environments. For example, "The Shining" is a haunting narrative about being stuck with one's demons. Later on, he would explore feminism in the messy (but ultimately more interesting) "Gerald's Game." For "Misery," a lot of benefits come from the Oscar-winning film that followed. It helped that Rob Reiner created a more focused vision for the novel, refusing to let the madness spiral too much into a gore-fest. There are so many chaotic turns that may please those into calling King a mad man who needs to be nutso crazy every time out, but for those who want a cohesive narrative, it's one of the biggest stumbling blocks in his career.
Part of it definitely owes to what the book is secretly about. Much like "The Shining" is about alcoholism, "Misery" is a story about cocaine addiction. That means that Annie Wilkes is intentionally messy, constantly falling apart and doing increasingly repulsive and dumb things. How does one escape the alluring power of drugs? If read this way, the novel has some redemption, though of course King takes things too far. Many who have seen the film will know that the story features physical brutality, an increasing co-dependence on Wilkes to get around and a desire to write something that pleases her. Paul's life is in her hands, and he needs to do everything to avoid dying in this deformed position.
Another conflict is that the part of the story that works has a certain intimacy that grows to be a bit redundant. To King's credit, a lot of it is necessary in order to build the psychological sense of madness. However, it's evidence that this would work better as a shorter, pulpier read. Instead, he draws out the moments beyond reason, needing to hold onto repetitive details that aren't necessarily forwarding plot but reminding readers of Paul's misery. It's not pleasant and his constant need to write becomes less interesting the further that things go. King manages to personify the pain through a decaying typewriter and physical changes, but otherwise it's not necessarily a story that works.
What makes "Gerald's Game" a better story with similar limitations is that King embraces a more complex understanding of peril. It's at times just as disturbing and graphic, but there is a sense of care for the character, a need for them to escape. There is that sweaty fear of being trapped forever, but King uses space with an effectiveness that feels absent in "Misery." There isn't much keeping the drive besides an empty room with a typewriter. Maybe it works as a metaphor for drug addiction, but it doesn't make for an interesting read. It helps that the characters are eclectic and have enough going on, but there's too much resentment early that keeps the catharsis from feeling as deserved as King wants it to be. It's a decent book, but at a point it turns directly into mean-spiritedness where the stakes fail to hold any weight.
"Misery" is a good book, but one whose appeal may be misinterpreted thanks to a much superior film. King was coming off of the gargantuan "IT," where he threw every idea into 1,000 pages of pure absurdity. It also seems like he threw in too much of his heart and empathy for the characters, as there's little here to resonate with. The mystery itself keeps the story alive and King can make watching paint dry at least compulsory, but what is ultimately said feels disappointing and not all that satisfying. He's made better books out of similar premises, using insanity in more methodical manners. This is fine, but the further into uncertainty that things veer, the less desirable everything is. It's another book about writers, and while readers will naturally want to see them survive for their benefit, it's not necessarily the best outlet for their cheerleading capabilities.
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