Subject: doctorlit reviews Firestarter by Stephen King (spoil)
Author:
Posted on: 2019-05-03 13:37:00 UTC

My family and friends are crushing me with plans all week, and unfortunately, I also finished reading Firestarter last night. Now I have to churn out this review during breakfast before work today. I really wish life would move more slowly!

Spoiler warning for Firestarter.

This is more of a spy thriller with some science fiction elements, rather than a “classic” horror novel. The scary parts are what the government was willing to do to its own citizens in the name of power “security,” and the strange powers they unlocked in their victims that are so destructive and hard to control. It reminds me quite a bit of Frankenstein, in that way, but at least Victor’s test subjects were already deceased when he did his experiment. The government Shop in this novel intentionally targeted college students with no close family, just to protect themselves if things went wrong. And oh boy, did things go wrong, and the Shop destroyed so many lives. It’s interesting that while the Shop’s experiments are, on paper, about protecting U.S. citizens, they’re also clearly terrified of the overall U.S. populace finding out about what they’re doing. The professor who administered the initial tests even seems to go mad with guilt and shame near the end of his life, and presses for all the surviving test subjects to be executed to wipe out all evidence of what he had done. Funny how the Shop doesn’t want the country to find out what the Shop did on its behalf, huh?

Even though it’s Charlie’s pyrokinesis that got the focus of the government’s research and the title of the book, and even as destructive as it could get, I actually found her father Andy’s mind control power way more terrifying. The weird mental connections he could accidentally forge when giving people suggestions, ones that could eventually spiral out of control and unravel their minds completely if he didn’t undo what he had done, are just dreadful to imagine happening in my own mind. It’s like another facet of the experiments themselves: the human brain is complex and its function, incomprehensible, and mucking around with it can open up mysteries we aren’t ready for. Then there’s the fact that his psychic ability is so strong it can actually affect the real world, like when he made the gunman drop his weapon by convincing him it was too hot to touch, and the man’s hand actually blistered. Finally, the little detail that Andy has been basically punching holes in the nerves of his brain all these years is just so painful to think about. Again, the human brain: complex. Don’t play around.

Maybe I’ve just seen too many Marvel movies this past decade, but I can’t help but look at Charlie’s story in this novel as a botched origin story for a superhero. If the Shop had just left the McGees alone and let Charlie grow up with the support of her parents, she could have grown into a well-adjusted, if cautious, young woman. Then, superhero for sure, yeah? Maybe. But the Shop removed all possibility of that occurring when they panicked and killed Charlie’s mom, set her and Andy on the run, and eventually wound up imprisoning both. They were so focused on seeing her as a weapon, it didn’t occur to them to let her be a person, as well. And they screwed themselves out of getting a bona fide U.S. superhero because of it. Good job, government!

There are a couple of characters that are artifacts of the 1980 publishing date that rather lessened my enjoyment. One is a Shop psychologist who is revealed to be a crossdresser, and that’s portrayed . . . about as positively as you might expect something written in the seventies to be. It’s even used as a facet of his death, though that’s all I’m going to say about that, because it was pretty gruesome. The other is John Rainbird, who . . . honestly bothered me more early on than he did by the end. I actually didn’t notice how much his character changed until I started writing this paragraph; some more proofreading was perhaps in order, Mr. King! Anyway, Rainbird is a Native American, and he starts out the novel being very eccentric and magical in a kind of faux-spiritual kind of way. You know, they way white people tend to write Native Americans? He also has a weird obsession with death, and looking into people’s eyes when he assassinates them, trying to glean the meaning of life from seeing the light fade. Toward the end of the novel, he does come to feel a lot more like a more standard villainous character, partly because he acts normal around Charlie to make her trust him. But that still doesn’t fix the fact that the only character of color in the novel is a death-fetishizing villain. Yay.

I do love the way King structured the novel to have Charlie’s powers ramp up in dramatic effect from the reader’s perspective, even telling some parts as flashbacks to keep them in “order.” It makes it feel like we’re experiencing the same ramp up in power and lack of control as Charlie is, culminating in that big final scene of destruction. It felt like the fire power was surging up in the novel, getting ready to burst out, just as it felt for Charlie.

All right, got that done in about an hour. Time to go get crushed by all the rest of this week!

—doctorlit, understanding spoon theory a little better now

All they could see were SPOILERS, glittering and blinking like some mythical Vegas jackpot. All they could see were SPOILERS, glittering and blinking like some mythical Vegas jackpot. All they could see were SPOILERS, glittering and blinking like some mythical Vegas jackpot.

Reply Return to messages