The Shining

Author: Stephen King
Publisher: Hodder and Stoughton
Published: 2007 (Originally 1977)
RRP: £6.99

  OK, I’ll admit it; I can be a snob when it comes to books.  I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets wound up by the amount of low quality literature that’s around.  If you set out to write a book, at least try to make it good.  The thing that baffles me most about these substandard reads is that they always seem to have such a huge readership.  The literary classics, for many, go untouched and instead they wait until a shockingly terrible adaptation is released on film...because obviously that’s the same as reading it.   

  Having had that rant I now want to make it clear that I love Stephen King books.  This may seem bonkers when you think I occupy most of my time reading the classics but everyone has their guilty pleasure.  Sure he isn’t a great wordsmith but he is an amazing storyteller.  His characters have clear voices, you feel as though you know them and the plot always oozes tension.  The Shining is no exception.  I have always loved the Stanley Kubrick film adaptation but now I have read the book I have realised that the film really doesn’t make much sense.  The film focuses on Jack’s decent into madness, the book however provides the insight into how and why this happens.  Most significantly, it provides the back story to the characters.

  Jack is troubled.  His past is full of anger and alcoholism.  He broke his baby’s arm in a drunken rage a few years ago (an incident his wife won’t allow him to forget), he then went on to start a fight with one of his students losing his job at the college.  He is offered the job as caretaker in an isolated hotel, ‘The Overlook’ situated in the mountains over the harsh winter months.  He moves in with his family and from there he begins to unravel the violent past hidden within the hotel walls.  His son, who has psychic abilities (the shining), is being pursued by the terrifying ghosts of the hotels past.  The hotel longs to have the boy, Danny, as part of its collection recognising his great psychic power and manipulates Jack in order to get at him.

  What Stephen King does so well is that he opens a window into the minds of his characters, we see their thoughts, we know their feelings.  Danny sees right from the start of the book how the story will end and the suspense is heightened as we see this premonition become a reality for him.  King expertly twists and turns making the situation for the family more and more terrifying.  It is unbearable to read, you grow to care about these characters yet know what will become of them.  The fact that grow to know the inner workings of Jack so well, makes his downfall painful to read, his not a bad man, he is a weak man manipulated to do evil things.

  Do not think for a moment that because you have seen the Kubrick film that you know the story.  Quite simply you don’t.  There is very little that is similar between the two in my view.  The twins aren’t in it, the tricycle isn’t in it, the ‘Here’s Johnny’ moment isn’t in it, the dead lady in the bath tub is though...eek!  Instead there are other sinister characters lurking in the depths of The Overlook, the remains of a shoot out in the presidential suite, a continuous masked party in the dining hall and my favourite ‘ghost’ of a man wearing a dog suit, barking mad with blood on his face.  Truly a gripping, terrifying read and for me has made the film, one which is already worthy of its own high accolade, complete.

Rating: 8/10

The Collector

Author: John Fowles
Publisher: Vintage Classics
Published: 2004 (Originally 1963)
RRP: £8.99

Frederick Clegg, a lonely, boring clerk becomes obsessed with the art student Miranda.  He watches her from his office window, he follows her into shops, but seriously lacking in any confidence or indeed social skills he knows she will never be his.  As his hobby he collects butterflies, an interest that he has been scorned for throughout his miserable, boring life and then one day he wins thousands of pounds in the pools.  Suddenly he has a greater sense of power, a feeling that he can do anything and he sets his sights on making Miranda the latest addition to his collection of beauties.  Knowing she will never love him, he buys a remote house, refurbishes the cellar and decides to keep her as his special ‘visitor’.  His motives are as innocent as wanting to spend time with her, disgusted by any physical intimacy and he spends the time showering her with gifts.  It’s not all roses and sunshine though and obviously these things don’t and never will end well. 

The first section of the book is written from his perspective, you feel as though you really get inside the strange mind of this lonely and pathetic man and in some ways it stirs up sympathy towards him.  It later switches to the diary Miranda kept whilst in captivity so you are equally able to understand how the experience effects her and how her feelings towards him change almost hourly from disgust to pity to fury.  Seeing the story from both angles is an excellent tool to really help the reader know the characters and see how they change but I couldn’t help feeling annoyed and bored by the Miranda diary section.  I just didn’t like her enough!  

Fowles apparently wrote the book to show the dangers of power getting into the hands of people incapable of handling it, of course the subject matter clearly establishes this but the fact Miranda is so unlikeable and arrogant takes away from the argument.  I get that she is meant to be a strong-minded idealistic ‘artist’, but in my opinion she seemed just as inhuman as Frederick (and that’s saying something!).  I think the book feels like an over-the-top sermon by one of those TV priests, preaching about God, what it is to be human and art, it’s relentless.  References to butterfly collecting are clumsily added in here and there as though an afterthought during Fowles’ final draft.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate it, I genuinely found the character of Frederick quite interesting but that wasn’t enough for me.

Rating: 4/10

The Wolves in the Walls

Author: Neil Gaiman
Illustrator: Dave McKean
Publisher: Bloomsbury
RRP: £5.99

    Lucy hears noises coming from the walls of her house and her claims that wolves are living in the walls are quashed by the other members of her family.  That is until wolves do suddenly burst from the walls of their home and take over.  The family are forced to flee to the bottom of the garden and Lucy tries to come up with a plan to get back their house. 

      This is a picture book like few others.  Aimed at older readers the images are dark and sinister and the plot gradually builds a sense of imminent dread which is suddenly released with a barrage of humour.  The art works within the book are stunning, a blend of collage, paint, photography and drawing create an eerie and unique feel to the book.  There are lots of hidden details etched on the walls of the house which add another dimension to the images created.  The storyline is highly original and the references, jokes and familiar family characters all add to the appeal of older readers of all abilities.  The character of Lucy is strong willed and relentless, children I have read the book with find it funny how submissive and weak her parents are portrayed.  Although there are some notable features of common picture books, such as the repetitive phrases and the use of font size to add emphasis, this is no fairytale.  There is no knight in shining armour.  Instead the book screams to me “If you want something, go get it!”

    I have read this book with several classes of children and every time it has been a huge hit.  I have great fun building up the suspense and horror elements and really going to town with the humour, the kids all end up enthralled and/or in hysterics.  Some reluctant readers have even asked if they could borrow it to read themselves.  This in itself speaks volumes.  Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean have completed several books together and although this is my favourite, they are all well worth exploring.

Rating: 10/10