Although I believe a collection of short stories by Stephen King to be an oxymoron in and of itself, I did enjoy most of them found in
Just After Sunset. I read it because of a common critical reaction which was: He's Stephen King. How dare he of the horror genre submit stories to magazines like
The Paris Review or
The New Yorker? I find them to be fightin' words 'cause I've always thought King was a good craftsman. (That's not in any way a slur. I put a lot of faith in craft.) So the gauntlet was thrown; I accepted the challenge.
As with any collection of short stories, some were good, and some weren't. I admit that my judgement is often based on my interest in the subject matter of the story, but since both concerns are valid, I'll talk about
Just After Sunset through general comments rather than settling on specific stories. Even with that limitation, I seem to have dog-eared a lot of pages. We'll see how many dog-ears turn into comments.
1) The wife in a long-lasting marriage decides not to tell him something because "it would hurt his feelings, and she still doesn't like to hurt his feelings; this is what now passes for love between them—at least going from her direction to his." (page 87) The wife then expresses content with how things are, and I wonder how many individuals wind up with the same type of love after a long marriage. I suspect the number is large.
2) I complain about description in the works of many writers. Sue Grafton jumps to mind. And, yes, responding to a Kathy comment on a recent RoundTable, I may well be complaining about Pat Conroy's description—the first time I would do so—after I finish
South of Broad. The above being the case, I'd like to point out some description I think is good. From
Just After Sunset: "… once he'd been both amused and horrified to see an alligator lumbering across the deserted pavement toward the sugar pines beyond the rest area, looking somehow like an elderly, overweight businessman on his way to a meeting." (page 98) While as a writer, I might have wanted "alligator" placed closer to the phrase that modifies it, I still think the description is good. King never "tells" us the place is, say, dark and lonely. He describes an individualized alligator—in motion!—and let's the reader "see" the surroundings through a few well-chosen details. I like to fill in the rest with my imagination.
3) I've always liked Stephen King's humor. In "The Things They Left Behind" the narrator comes home to discover he has been mysteriously gifted with possessions owned by friends who died on 9/11. He struggles to figure out why they're there and says, "My sister Peg was currently living in Cleveland, where she had embraced Mary Kay cosmetics, the Indians, and fundamentalist Christianity, not necessarily in that order. If I called and told Peg about the things I'd found in my apartment, she would suggest I get down on my knees and ask Jesus to come into my life. Rightly or wrongly, I did not feel Jesus could help me with my current problem." (page 155) I find the thought and its expression right-on.
4) The same narrator expresses his mother's belief that "the cornerstone of the male philosophy was 'If you ignore it, maybe it'll go away.'" (page 162) My question is: Why limit such a belief to males?
5) Question for the up-on-current/recent-music folks: Is there really a group called Slobberbone, or did King make up the name?
6) In another story King describes a spot where it's easy to see through reality to, well, something else. "There were seven stones again. Just seven. And in the middle of them—I don't know just how to describe this so you'll understand—there was a faded place. It wasn't like a shadow, exactly, but more like … you know how the blue will fade out of your favorite jeans over time? Especially at stress points like the knees? It was like that." (page 210) Cool idea—and description. IMHO.
7) Stonehenge? Perhaps its existence, "as well as keeping track of hours and months," is to protect us by "locking out an insane universe that happens to lie right next door to ours." (page 215) Ah, an explanation I can get into.
8) The ring of stones: "It only exists in his (the narrator's doctor's) mind, but that doesn't mean it's not real." (page 220) And, after all, what is reality anyway?
9) Finally, to anyone who was around during my reading, reviewing, re-reading and re-reviewing of "The Yellow Wallpaper," I think the following statement King makes in his notes is interesting. "Can you think of a single successful scary tale that doesn't contain the idea of going back to what we hate or loathe? The best overt example of that might be "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. If you ever read it in college, you were probably taught that it's a feminist story. That is true, but it's also the story of a mind crumbling under the weight of its own obsessive thought." (page 365)
