This is unrelated to China, and I don't know if anybody will care to read it, but oh well.
I finally finished Stephen King's
Wizard and Glass today, after trying to force myself through it for over a year and a half now.
WaG is the fourth book in King's seven book "The Dark Tower" series, which my mother asked me to read back in January 2006. I sped through the first three books, as the first one is very short and the second and third are actually startlingly good (this is high praise from somebody who normally does not dig Stephen King's general writing style), but I skidded into a full halt with
Wizard and Glass, and it took knowing I'd have a month and a half of fairly carefree time in China to finally push me through it.
WaG starts out strong. The first part of the book is the ending of the previous book's cliffhanger ending, and it features some of my favorite storytelling in almost any book, ever. However,
Wizard and Glass drones its way through the exceedingly long mid-section of the book, which consists of approximately five hundred pages of background story for Roland, the series' main protagonist. The story is long and complex, and while it definitely picked up in the last two hundred or so pages of its telling, the first three hundred were almost torturous to wade through.
I think this is because the Dark Tower series is Stephen's little lovechild. In his introduction to the books (and in many of his afterwords), he mentions how the story has been haunting him, piece by piece, since he was nineteen years old. It took a decade between book three and book four, and he admits in the afterword of
WaG that after a point he couldn't tell if the book was good or bad anymore, but just that it needed to be written. While I do have some major issues with his writing style, I admit to a bit of fondness for King due to his extreme honesty when discussing his relationship with the story; most of Roland's back story took place when Roland was fourteen years old and in the throes of early teenage love, and King admits that he really faltered when trying to write it, because he'd been so far removed from that feeling for so long that it was hard to try and reclaim. Indeed, I think most of my problems with those three hundred or so pages had to do more with my inability to take the characters seriously than anything else. I thought that King's writing was unnecessarily flowery and reeked of amateurish effort; it took a while for me to realize that this was precisely the effect he was going for, because what is teenage love but overly dramatic and stupendously meaningful? Especially in a romantic age such as Roland's, could one's first (and ultimately tragic) love be anything
but melodramatic?
By the end of the story, I understood why it had to be as long and drawn out as it was; I remember asking my mother (please tell me you, at least, are reading this!) multiple times if I could just "skip Roland's past" and get back to the story I was interested in -- the one of Roland's present, with Eddie and Jake and Susannah. She hesitated to tell me I could, and now I know why. By drawing up the story to such dramatic heights, the force of its savage ending completely explains why Roland acts and feels the way he does about so many things. I knew what was going to happen (it is hard not to if you pay attention), but I still found myself teary eyed at the end, heartbroken (as I am want to be) over the tragedy suffered by young Roland. It was an absolutely chilling story, and King's intended effect hit dead on -- Roland went from the cold-blooded, almost robotic gunslinger to an incredibly moving
human in those five hundred pages, and that is enough to make me want to read on.
It is not perfect writing. A lot of it is actually quite sloppy, and there are pages worth of description and thematic writing that could have been better served by one or two concise paragraphs. There are times when it is difficult to remember which background character is which, which is especially frustrating when they suddenly become major players in the end. You can tell sometimes that Stephen is just desperate to get the words out, because once they're out, at least it's over.
But, in the end, it's
effective writing, and that's all that matters at the end of the day. Writing should sound beautiful, yes. But above that, it should be emotional, and that's what Roland's tale in
Wizard and Glass was for me.
I feel a connection to the Dark Tower series for more than one reason. I understand how Stephen King must have felt about these books, because I've been carrying around my own Dark Tower for about twelve years now. Unlike King, however, my story has no real form; it takes a form but soon changes it, like a sort of creative amoeba, and while my biggest dream in life is to actually pinpoint what the story is supposed to be and
write the damned thing, part of me knows that's about as likely as, well, everybody in Roland's new story turning out happily ever after.
My story began when I was eleven years old, and found a picture of an unusually styled female character in a review in some video game magazine. I now know that it was an anime styling, but Japanese pop culture hadn't hit America hard yet back in 1995, so all I knew was that the art style was somehow infinitely compelling. I took out a piece of manila-colored paper (I seemed to have an endless amount) and scribbled down a picture of a girl in the same style; she was skinny, with long, messy hair (which I immediately knew was red) and big, doubtful eyes (piercing green). I also knew, instinctively, that her name was Lunar. Pretty standard juvenile fantasy fluff, I now realize, but to this day I'm still unable to really change any of those first few characters that came to me; as ridiculous as they may be, Lunar will always be Lunar, and Will will always be Will.
My first story with Lunar and Will was pretty awful. It had to do with magic pendants, but it read more like a video game script than an actual story; there was perhaps one big twist intended at the end, but otherwise it was almost painfully linear. First they'd go here, then they'd go there, and eventually they'd end up where they had to be. Middle school happened and I gave up on the quest for the four pendants, but it always remained somewhere in the back of my brain.
As much as I want to teach when I get older, I'll always want to write a little bit more. But I don't think I can really properly devote myself to any writing project until I at least get some headway on the Lunar story. My main problem, however, is that as I grew older, I began to realize more and more just how important structure and purpose is in a story, and, looking at Lunar and Will scrambling through their fictional kingdom to find four conveniently placed pendants, I realized my story had absolutely none. No structure, no purpose. I loved stories that seemed well planned; when I realized JK Rowling had name-dropped Sirius Black in the first chapter of the
first book, despite him not becoming a major player until book three, I knew that the Lunar story (affectionately titled "Sun and Moon") had to be completely reworked.
But I didn't know how. And I still don't know how. Because as much as I may try and change the form of the story, something inside of me refuses to give up on the most constricting of points. I can't, for example, get rid of the pendants. I can't give Lunar a better name. There has to be some physical form of divinity. It has to be a goddamn
fantasy story, a really, really trite and uninspired fantasy story. I have tried everything to make the story work. I've changed the setting, I've changed the time, I've made bad characters good and good characters bad, but nothing works. To be honest, I can't even tell you
why Lunar and Will need these damn pendants so much, but I know the story falls apart without them.
So I understand Stephen. I understand this obsession with a story. And I can even forgive him three hundred pages of
would you please get to the point already because I'm sure that, if Lunar ever deigned to tell me what it was I needed to be writing about, there'd probably be parts where I just had to get through it, be it good or bad writing in the end. (If it's me writing, it already defaults at "pretty awful.") My only hope is that, if I ever get to chasing my pendants like Stephen chased his Tower, I can manage to create a story that is as moving and heartbreaking and simply
touching in parts as his (and Roland's) own.
...okay, so nobody read that at all, but that's fine. Hi Mom! Hi guys! I'll be back three weeks from today.