I'm sure that you are already aware of the fact that your family loves you so very much. I'm also certain that you are looking down on them from your new residency in Heaven, and that you are able to see this for yourself. I had a unique vantage point over the last week. I was actually able to witness an already close-knit family become so much more stronger as they coped with the loss of such a wonderful person in their family. I met a vast amount of people whom you personally impacted with your kind heart and positive nature. It touched my heart to see how much one individual changed the lives of so many. I just thought you should know that.
You should also know that your family loves you, and will continue to do so no matter what. You were (and still are) an integral part in their family system and they are devastated that you are no longer physically here. Hell, I only knew you briefly and I miss the crap out of you! You always made me feel like I was a part of your family, more than anyone. I want to thank you for that. It meant a lot that you made an effort to include me in conversations and to get to know me. The greatest thing you ever did for me was to run up and hug me the first time we met, instantly deeming me part of the family though you had no clue what kind of person I was or if I would be staying around.
Your family...OUR family is in so much pain right now, but they are a strong bunch. Do not fret over their pain; it will become easier to manage as time heals their broken hearts. If you could put in a word to the Big Guy upstairs for me, please ask him to send much love and comfort to all of your beloved family members. They will sorely need it in the times to come.
There will come a time when we will meet again. I am sure of it. Until that day comes, I will always remember how you approached life, with a positive attitude, a selfless demeanor, and a fondness for fun. I will always remember how you loved. Hopefully I can learn something from your wonderful life, and maybe pay it forward as you did. No one can deny that you were an expert at spreading joy. I wish I could do that as well as you could. I may not ever be able to achieve that, but I will try. For you.
I miss you brother. I can't wait to see you in the next life.
Love,
Justin
Monday, August 15, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Stand: A Review
I recently finished reading Stephen King's complete and uncut version of The Stand. After reading the final words on the last page, page 1141, I felt a sense of wonder. How is it possible that I felt compelled to continue reading this novel when it was so long? That is just how King is; his writing is incredibly enthralling and never leaves you uninterested in what is happening. His characters are so real it's scary. He doesn't hold back or pull any punches. People die, the world moves on. It is the way of the world. Just because you have invested over four hundred pages of material with one character doesn't mean that character is immune to the touch of Death when he comes to collect them. Anyways, time to review.
The Stand is basically a study of humanity in a post-apocalyptic setting. The first third of the novel is about how a government-manufactured virus (superflu, Captain Trips, etc) gets set loose across the globe, systematically eradicating the human race except for a small percentage who happen to be immune. The virus in itself is horrifying in its simplicity. It is a modified version of the influenza virus that constantly mutates and circumvents the human immune system. Humans are not the only beings effected by the virus; it wipes out almost all of the dogs and horses as well. The suddenness of the virus's impact is strongly felt due to the fact that the characters' lives are literally interrupted in the strangest fashion. Fran is amidst a strong argument with her mother about her becoming pregnant out of wedlock. She is attempting to figure out how to handle this situation, which is a difficult situation in and of itself, when her mother comes down with the superflu. The superflu soon takes out the entire town of Ogunquit, Maine, leaving only her and her friend's younger brother, Harold Lauder. Stu Redman, a simple man from Texas, begins his journey at the actual epicenter of where the superflu becomes spread throughout the nation. He gets shipped to various plague centers and multiple tests are done on him to see why he is immune. Larry Underwood, a semi-established singer and songwriter, moves back to New York City to get away from the self-destructive atmosphere he was falling into. He has a front-row seat to the slow decay of the world's greatest city, NYC. The most upsetting of all the characters' lives pre-outbreak is the life of Nick Andros. Nick is a deaf mute. The first time we meet him is as he is being beat almost to death by some ignorant low-life jack-asses. He is merely a good man who tries so damn hard to do the right thing, but things keep getting in his way. All of these characters share a dream about a dark man and a very old, black woman named Mother Abigail.
Mother Abigail represents all things good and pure, while the Walkin' Dude (which conveniently is also the Man in Black from the Gunslinger novels!) is the avatar of pure evil and malice. Each of these characters gathers like-minded, similar groups of individuals to themselves and form opposing civilizations in different parts of America. Ultimately, the entire novel is a giant case-study on good versus evil. I'm not going to go in depth on all the plot details, but one thing leads to another, their is a giant betrayal at the Good Camp, and it gets decided that a few people need to go to Las Vegas, home of the Bads, and finally confront the Walkin' Dude. Although the trio who eventually make it to Las Vegas get captured and are in the process of being crucified, Trashcan Man (who loves to burn things and has been ignored by the Walkin' Dude) sets off a nuclear warhead, decimating the entire bad camp.
King displays awesome skill at character development in this novel. Every person, whether they have been in only one chapter or the entire novel, has a depth and purpose to the overall story. The message of the novel is that being good is ultimately better off than being evil, even though evil is easier and seems more comfortable. Nick goes through hell, but he never allows it to break his spirit. He stays on the path of righteousness and never falters, sacrificing himself to save others. Most of the people in Vegas pretend that they are living this great new life yet allow people to be crucified. They turn a blind eye to the evil surrounding them. Ultimately, all of the choices in one's life are between the right choice and the wrong choice. Life is dealing with the consequences of the choices you make and deciding if you want to lead a life of doing what is right or wrong. King's novel leaves the reader with a sense that good is the better choice, and that good ultimately triumphs over evil.
At the end, Flagg (the Walkin' Dude) is shown to be alive and well in a different part of the world, starting his process all over again. After all, good cannot exist without evil.
All in all, I would give this novel 4 out of 5 stars. I thoroughly enjoyed the read.
The Stand is basically a study of humanity in a post-apocalyptic setting. The first third of the novel is about how a government-manufactured virus (superflu, Captain Trips, etc) gets set loose across the globe, systematically eradicating the human race except for a small percentage who happen to be immune. The virus in itself is horrifying in its simplicity. It is a modified version of the influenza virus that constantly mutates and circumvents the human immune system. Humans are not the only beings effected by the virus; it wipes out almost all of the dogs and horses as well. The suddenness of the virus's impact is strongly felt due to the fact that the characters' lives are literally interrupted in the strangest fashion. Fran is amidst a strong argument with her mother about her becoming pregnant out of wedlock. She is attempting to figure out how to handle this situation, which is a difficult situation in and of itself, when her mother comes down with the superflu. The superflu soon takes out the entire town of Ogunquit, Maine, leaving only her and her friend's younger brother, Harold Lauder. Stu Redman, a simple man from Texas, begins his journey at the actual epicenter of where the superflu becomes spread throughout the nation. He gets shipped to various plague centers and multiple tests are done on him to see why he is immune. Larry Underwood, a semi-established singer and songwriter, moves back to New York City to get away from the self-destructive atmosphere he was falling into. He has a front-row seat to the slow decay of the world's greatest city, NYC. The most upsetting of all the characters' lives pre-outbreak is the life of Nick Andros. Nick is a deaf mute. The first time we meet him is as he is being beat almost to death by some ignorant low-life jack-asses. He is merely a good man who tries so damn hard to do the right thing, but things keep getting in his way. All of these characters share a dream about a dark man and a very old, black woman named Mother Abigail.
Mother Abigail represents all things good and pure, while the Walkin' Dude (which conveniently is also the Man in Black from the Gunslinger novels!) is the avatar of pure evil and malice. Each of these characters gathers like-minded, similar groups of individuals to themselves and form opposing civilizations in different parts of America. Ultimately, the entire novel is a giant case-study on good versus evil. I'm not going to go in depth on all the plot details, but one thing leads to another, their is a giant betrayal at the Good Camp, and it gets decided that a few people need to go to Las Vegas, home of the Bads, and finally confront the Walkin' Dude. Although the trio who eventually make it to Las Vegas get captured and are in the process of being crucified, Trashcan Man (who loves to burn things and has been ignored by the Walkin' Dude) sets off a nuclear warhead, decimating the entire bad camp.
King displays awesome skill at character development in this novel. Every person, whether they have been in only one chapter or the entire novel, has a depth and purpose to the overall story. The message of the novel is that being good is ultimately better off than being evil, even though evil is easier and seems more comfortable. Nick goes through hell, but he never allows it to break his spirit. He stays on the path of righteousness and never falters, sacrificing himself to save others. Most of the people in Vegas pretend that they are living this great new life yet allow people to be crucified. They turn a blind eye to the evil surrounding them. Ultimately, all of the choices in one's life are between the right choice and the wrong choice. Life is dealing with the consequences of the choices you make and deciding if you want to lead a life of doing what is right or wrong. King's novel leaves the reader with a sense that good is the better choice, and that good ultimately triumphs over evil.
At the end, Flagg (the Walkin' Dude) is shown to be alive and well in a different part of the world, starting his process all over again. After all, good cannot exist without evil.
All in all, I would give this novel 4 out of 5 stars. I thoroughly enjoyed the read.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
A poem from my past, resurfaced.
I was rummaging through some old writings and I found something that had been lost to me for some time. A poem, to be exact. This poem was the best thing I had ever written while I was in high school, and I was very proud of it at the time of its inception. I still am proud of it. Sadly, the original copy of it was on a hard drive of an old computer that crashed, and I was sure the poem was gone for good. Just today, I went searching for my old writing book. When I found it, I perused the contents within and, to my utmost joy and surprise, there it was. My poem. So, in light of this rediscovery, I have decided to begin my writing anew. Also, I have decided to post the poem. Here it is.
The Forgiven
Dream the dream that was dreamt before,
Only this and nothing more.
Drifting by a river shore,
Pain overwhelms a heart so sore.
Taste the tears upon my lips.
Clouds beyond my fingertips.
Hand reaches out, but nothing grips;
Falling, falling, the hand now slips.
Skin burns as if on fire
In the desert sun so dire.
Death is nigh - He will not tire,
Wreathed in flames upon His pyre.
Try to breathe, lungs too tight.
Death advances, I cower in fright.
Dropping down, I pray in light
That God will save me from my plight.
Death arrives, the Collector of Souls.
His eyes burn like fiery coals.
Says Him, "Give to me the soul of souls
Wherein the body in which it grows."
An angel appears, cries, "You cannot
Have the soul my Lord hath sought!"
Between Heaven and Hell a war was fought,
The details of which I'd rather tell not.
When it had ended my soul stood alone
Amidst a sea of blood and bone.
From the heavens above a light doth shone
Upon the soul of souls so grown.
Descending to me was a thing so pure
With a light so bright one could not ignore.
Says to me, "Come! Ignore me no more!
All you need do is open the door."
Open I did with little a thought.
To Heaven it was that I was brought.
Said a voice, "Leave your pain, yet forget it not,
Oh great soul whom I have sought."
The voice was that of the great I Am.
To His right sat his Son, the Sacrificial Lamb.
Together they declared, forgiven I am
For the sins committed when I was a man.
Dream the dream that was dreamt before,
Only this, but something more.
Awake upon the river shore,
The pain of my heart haunts me no more.
Thoughts?
Friday, April 1, 2011
On reaching a quarter of a century.
I have been doing a lot of thinking and soul searching this past week on life and everything else surrounding it. On Monday, April, 4, I will have been living for 25 years. I think of it as a milestone achievement. I have survived the toils of existence on Earth and I have lived to tell the tale. This may sound silly, but I know quite a few individuals in my life who did not reach 24, and that is a travesty. Sometimes, the thread of life is severed before us mortals believe it is time. Some who deserve life have it prematurely end, while others who keep their life do not deserve that extra time. But, that is the way of the world. Life ends and the living move on.
Back to my point. I will be 25 soon, deep into the journey of adulthood, so I began to think about how I view the world. I came to realize that I dwell on the past more than I would like to. I am constantly wondering if I have made the right choices in the past that I tend to miss out on the present. This doesn't mean that I live in the past, as some people tend to do. I don't believe I have made ALL wrong choices. I am fairly responsible now. I am back in college, gaining knowledge and stepping onto the path of enlightement. I married a woderful woman and work hard to make sure our marriage is strong. I have kept a job steadily for over six years. But still I find myself thinking...what if I hadn't slacked off in college the first go around? What would have happened if I followed my dreams and migrated to the west coast, tried my best to become a legitimate actor/director/writer? And on and on...
The truth is, I don't believe I ever truly grew up one hundred percent. I never fully escaped the cocoon of adolescence, bitterly trying to hold firm to that fleeting thing called childhood. I'm not saying I traipse around in my undergarments, staying up till God knows when playing the latest video game, making myself late to work in the morning. I am a responsible adult, for the most part, though there is still a bit of work I could do to better myself.
So, on the eve of my 25th, I shall let go of my past a little more, shedding myself of it (though not forgetting it) and keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground. I will always remember the deep depression I sunk into after dropping out of college. I will remember the hard lessons I learned when I decided to trust the wrong person. I will remember all of those lessons, and keep them close so I don't ever forget. "The child is grown, the dream is gone" as Pink Floyd will tell you, but it is ok to keep dreaming. I just won't carry the weight of the past with me into the future, allowing it to drag me down as I once did. I will cast them aside like a recently freed prisoner sheds his shackles and steps forth from the darkness of imprisonment.
I know, a little melodramatic. I will be the first to admit that. But that is who I am. I write, therefore I am and other mumbo-jumbo. To be truthful, I feel a genuine spark of excitement about this choice. It has been awhile, for I have refrained from making some choices out of fear. Fear that I would screw up as I have done in the past. I feel like this is an important step in learning how to trust myself again. Hopefully, I will succeed in this endeavor.
I had trapped myself inside the hole I had dug. I stuggled to get out, but the hole had other plans for me. Handholds would disappear, the walls grew slick. Falling deeper, I began to despair. A familiar emotion, despair; He and I are bossom friends. Yet I did not give in to his temtations. I adamantly pulled myself to the lip of the hole. I slipped, I fell. But I also ascended. All thoughts fled my mind but for one: I must not give in to despair. What seemed like ages passed by as I climbed. When I reached the top, I pulled myself over the edge of oblivion and laid to rest. I had deserved it. When I awoke, I began to survey my surroundings. I wealth of possibilities lay before me in a multitude of paths, each more different than the last. But I was loath to stray far from the hole. Even though it had caused me misery, I was comforted by its presence. After all, it was of my own design, the hole. I spent long hours wondering what was out over the broad horizon. In order to discover the mysteries of life, I would have to leave that soothing turpitude that was the hole. It was difficult, but I managed to push aside my paralyzing fear and move on, away from misery, away from the hole. Who knows what I may experience on this new journey? I have not all the answers to life. No one does. That is the beauty of it. Life is a mystery. One can plumb its depths and never find its secrets. But one can find solice in its beauty, and that is what I intend to do.
"I'm sowing the seeds I take for granted
This thorn in my side is from the tree I planted
It tears me and I bleed..."
- Metallica
"What if all the world's inside of your head
Just creations of your own?
Your devils and your gods
All the living and the dead
And you're really all alone?
You can live in this illusion
You can choose to believe
You keep looking but you can't find the woods
While you're hiding in the trees."
- Nine Inch Nails
"Are you happy when you're standing still?"
- Jimmy Eat World
"There are stars in the southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of thyme sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road."
- The Eagles
Back to my point. I will be 25 soon, deep into the journey of adulthood, so I began to think about how I view the world. I came to realize that I dwell on the past more than I would like to. I am constantly wondering if I have made the right choices in the past that I tend to miss out on the present. This doesn't mean that I live in the past, as some people tend to do. I don't believe I have made ALL wrong choices. I am fairly responsible now. I am back in college, gaining knowledge and stepping onto the path of enlightement. I married a woderful woman and work hard to make sure our marriage is strong. I have kept a job steadily for over six years. But still I find myself thinking...what if I hadn't slacked off in college the first go around? What would have happened if I followed my dreams and migrated to the west coast, tried my best to become a legitimate actor/director/writer? And on and on...
The truth is, I don't believe I ever truly grew up one hundred percent. I never fully escaped the cocoon of adolescence, bitterly trying to hold firm to that fleeting thing called childhood. I'm not saying I traipse around in my undergarments, staying up till God knows when playing the latest video game, making myself late to work in the morning. I am a responsible adult, for the most part, though there is still a bit of work I could do to better myself.
So, on the eve of my 25th, I shall let go of my past a little more, shedding myself of it (though not forgetting it) and keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground. I will always remember the deep depression I sunk into after dropping out of college. I will remember the hard lessons I learned when I decided to trust the wrong person. I will remember all of those lessons, and keep them close so I don't ever forget. "The child is grown, the dream is gone" as Pink Floyd will tell you, but it is ok to keep dreaming. I just won't carry the weight of the past with me into the future, allowing it to drag me down as I once did. I will cast them aside like a recently freed prisoner sheds his shackles and steps forth from the darkness of imprisonment.
I know, a little melodramatic. I will be the first to admit that. But that is who I am. I write, therefore I am and other mumbo-jumbo. To be truthful, I feel a genuine spark of excitement about this choice. It has been awhile, for I have refrained from making some choices out of fear. Fear that I would screw up as I have done in the past. I feel like this is an important step in learning how to trust myself again. Hopefully, I will succeed in this endeavor.
I had trapped myself inside the hole I had dug. I stuggled to get out, but the hole had other plans for me. Handholds would disappear, the walls grew slick. Falling deeper, I began to despair. A familiar emotion, despair; He and I are bossom friends. Yet I did not give in to his temtations. I adamantly pulled myself to the lip of the hole. I slipped, I fell. But I also ascended. All thoughts fled my mind but for one: I must not give in to despair. What seemed like ages passed by as I climbed. When I reached the top, I pulled myself over the edge of oblivion and laid to rest. I had deserved it. When I awoke, I began to survey my surroundings. I wealth of possibilities lay before me in a multitude of paths, each more different than the last. But I was loath to stray far from the hole. Even though it had caused me misery, I was comforted by its presence. After all, it was of my own design, the hole. I spent long hours wondering what was out over the broad horizon. In order to discover the mysteries of life, I would have to leave that soothing turpitude that was the hole. It was difficult, but I managed to push aside my paralyzing fear and move on, away from misery, away from the hole. Who knows what I may experience on this new journey? I have not all the answers to life. No one does. That is the beauty of it. Life is a mystery. One can plumb its depths and never find its secrets. But one can find solice in its beauty, and that is what I intend to do.
"I'm sowing the seeds I take for granted
This thorn in my side is from the tree I planted
It tears me and I bleed..."
- Metallica
"What if all the world's inside of your head
Just creations of your own?
Your devils and your gods
All the living and the dead
And you're really all alone?
You can live in this illusion
You can choose to believe
You keep looking but you can't find the woods
While you're hiding in the trees."
- Nine Inch Nails
"Are you happy when you're standing still?"
- Jimmy Eat World
"There are stars in the southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of thyme sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road."
- The Eagles
Monday, March 21, 2011
I have ascended the Dark Tower...
Alas, my journey to the Dark Tower with Roland and his ka-tet has come to an end. It has been a long and trying journey, but that is the way I would have it. Those are the best kind, in my opinion.
First, I must apologize for my lack of entries over the past few weeks. Or has it been a month? That is neither here nor there. The reasoning behind my scarce blog posting can be placed upon my schoolwork. I had a very large amount of homework and studying for mid-term exams, so my blogging got left by the wayside. However, despite my school workload, I never ceased reading Stephen King's masterpiece epic story, The Dark Tower. I know it is actually seven books, but it is really one large book split seven ways, much like The Lord of the Rings is split across three books. Well, today, I finished the seventh and final installment of the saga. Wow. This series is one of the greatest book series I have ever read, and I have read a huge amount of them.
First off, this story is an ever-changing, constantly evolving...colossus? Is that the best word to describe it? I know not. I will not divulge any details to the plot; I have no wish to spoil this adventure for anyone else. That stated, I am going to put up a disclaimer anyways.
!!!!!!!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!
The Dark Tower cannot possibly be categorized into one specific genre. It is part western, science-fiction, horror, romance, fantasy, etc. I know that sounds insane, but it is true nonetheless. I encourage everybody who reads to give this series a shot. Anyways, the books are amazing.
The main character, Roland of Gilead, of the line of Eld, the last gunslinger, is one of the greatest flawed heroes ever written. He is completely absorbed with his quest to find the Dark Tower and see what is at the top, even if he has to leave behind (or sacrifice in the case of Jake) his friends along the way. Even with this major flaw, you cannot help but fall in love with Roland. His incredible eyesight, his faster-than-light reflexes with a six-shooter, his lack of humor, the depth of his ability to feel (and how deep he hides those feelings, even from those closest to him)...all traits that barely scratch the surface of how awesome he is. He has given up everything for his quest and my heart aches for him (I am even tearing up right now just thinking about what he lost along the way). My heart aches for him even now, for his journey is not over.
Another main character, Eddie Dean, is a heroin junkie at the beginning of the story, but he evolves into something that is so much more. He becomes a gunslinger (probably the best of Roland's trainees). His love for Susannah is so deep and so pure; it is the way a man should love a woman in every aspect. He also draws out a side of Roland that is rarely seen with his smart-ass attitude: he makes Roland smile. I think he completely becomes a part of Roland's world, unlike the others (except maybe Oy who was already a part of his world), and his residency becomes complete with his death in the final novel. I cried when he spoke his final words to Roland: "Thank you for my second chance. Thank you...Father." Very powerful words for a very powerful part of the story.
Susannah...where in the hell do I start with her? This is one of the most intricate character concepts and evolutions I have ever seen. She enters the story as Odetta, a pacifistic civil-rights activist from the '60s, an African-American, an amputee (she is missing her legs from the knee down), and a slight schizo. I know, a lot, right? It gets more intricate. She eventually overcomes her other personality, Detta, and becomes a totally new woman, Susannah. She has one of the strongest wills of any of the characters in the series. She gained my utmost respect and love when she sacrificed part of herself to save Jake (she humped/restrained a demon while Eddie made a key for the door...too much info, I promised not to spoil it). She ends up, through a very unique way, of carrying Roland's child without ever fornicating with him. This scenario also forces her to be the carrier of the demon-mother Mia. After all of this, she remains sane and still manages to become a gunslinger. Damn...that woman is a beast!
Jake. The boy who fell. I have to say Jake is probably my favorite character. He dies twice (not ruining it for you!!!). He has the most impact on Roland out of all the cast of characters. I believe he reopens a closed door (hahaha) in Roland's heart, allowing this cold man to love once again, an ability he thought he lost in his travels. This boy is only ten years old, yet he becomes a gunslinger through and through, ultimately sacrificing himself to save Stephen King (the universe). Roland does not even get to be with Jake as Jake fades away, having to deal with some petty bullshit. That scene literally broke my heart. As Roland buries Jake, he gives one of the sweetest speeches, while Oy howls out his sorrow as only a billy-bumbler can. "He knelt a moment longer with his hands clasped between his knees, thinking he had not understood the true power of sorrow, nor the pain of regret, until this moment. I cannot bear to let him go. But once again, that cruel paradox: if he didn't, the sacrifice was in vain." Just rereading this part steals my breath and hurts my heart. This character impacted Roland, but he also impacted me as well.
Oy, the billy-bumbler (a sort of raccoon-dog hybrid) is one of the most fun characters. Bumblers can be trained to talk, at least before the world moved on, and Oy has some of the most sweet and most comical lines in the book series. He is Jake's best friend, for it was Jake who took him in and nursed his wounded leg. Oy himself can even be catagorized as a gunslinger, even though he never wields a gun. But he proves his bravery time after time. He also gains the respect of Roland, and that is saying a lot.
There are other characters whom I love (Callahan, Cuthbert, Alain, Susan, Sheemie, Patrick), but I will not say much about them. If you would like to know of them, read the books! But there is one who I cannot forget to talk about.
Walter o' Dim/Randall Flagg/Marten Broadcloak/whatever else he has called himself throughout time. Walter, the Man In Black, is one of the most vile villains ever created. This is a guy who you want to die so much through every book. All of the shit he put Roland through...he makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn. But isn't that what a superb villain should be like? I think so. Ka finally catches up with him in the end.
Now, for the finale. The ending of the series, while not entirely happy or satisfying, is fitting. I wouldn't have had it any other way (I cannot change ka, though ka can change me). I will only say this about the ending. It ends where is begins: Ka...
As always after the end of a long book series, I end up feeling lost. What do I read next? Should I take a break? Will anything be able to satisfy me again? O' Discordia! Where shall I go after trekking along the Path of the Beam with the last of the Line of Eld and his band of gunslingers? But, then I remember Jake, who once said, "There are other worlds than these." I find comfort in those words. I see you, Jake. See you very well and say thankee-sai! Thus, I will continue on my epic journey to the next world, and the ones thereafter.
For all of you who read this, long days and pleasant nights...
First, I must apologize for my lack of entries over the past few weeks. Or has it been a month? That is neither here nor there. The reasoning behind my scarce blog posting can be placed upon my schoolwork. I had a very large amount of homework and studying for mid-term exams, so my blogging got left by the wayside. However, despite my school workload, I never ceased reading Stephen King's masterpiece epic story, The Dark Tower. I know it is actually seven books, but it is really one large book split seven ways, much like The Lord of the Rings is split across three books. Well, today, I finished the seventh and final installment of the saga. Wow. This series is one of the greatest book series I have ever read, and I have read a huge amount of them.
First off, this story is an ever-changing, constantly evolving...colossus? Is that the best word to describe it? I know not. I will not divulge any details to the plot; I have no wish to spoil this adventure for anyone else. That stated, I am going to put up a disclaimer anyways.
!!!!!!!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!
The Dark Tower cannot possibly be categorized into one specific genre. It is part western, science-fiction, horror, romance, fantasy, etc. I know that sounds insane, but it is true nonetheless. I encourage everybody who reads to give this series a shot. Anyways, the books are amazing.
The main character, Roland of Gilead, of the line of Eld, the last gunslinger, is one of the greatest flawed heroes ever written. He is completely absorbed with his quest to find the Dark Tower and see what is at the top, even if he has to leave behind (or sacrifice in the case of Jake) his friends along the way. Even with this major flaw, you cannot help but fall in love with Roland. His incredible eyesight, his faster-than-light reflexes with a six-shooter, his lack of humor, the depth of his ability to feel (and how deep he hides those feelings, even from those closest to him)...all traits that barely scratch the surface of how awesome he is. He has given up everything for his quest and my heart aches for him (I am even tearing up right now just thinking about what he lost along the way). My heart aches for him even now, for his journey is not over.
Another main character, Eddie Dean, is a heroin junkie at the beginning of the story, but he evolves into something that is so much more. He becomes a gunslinger (probably the best of Roland's trainees). His love for Susannah is so deep and so pure; it is the way a man should love a woman in every aspect. He also draws out a side of Roland that is rarely seen with his smart-ass attitude: he makes Roland smile. I think he completely becomes a part of Roland's world, unlike the others (except maybe Oy who was already a part of his world), and his residency becomes complete with his death in the final novel. I cried when he spoke his final words to Roland: "Thank you for my second chance. Thank you...Father." Very powerful words for a very powerful part of the story.
Susannah...where in the hell do I start with her? This is one of the most intricate character concepts and evolutions I have ever seen. She enters the story as Odetta, a pacifistic civil-rights activist from the '60s, an African-American, an amputee (she is missing her legs from the knee down), and a slight schizo. I know, a lot, right? It gets more intricate. She eventually overcomes her other personality, Detta, and becomes a totally new woman, Susannah. She has one of the strongest wills of any of the characters in the series. She gained my utmost respect and love when she sacrificed part of herself to save Jake (she humped/restrained a demon while Eddie made a key for the door...too much info, I promised not to spoil it). She ends up, through a very unique way, of carrying Roland's child without ever fornicating with him. This scenario also forces her to be the carrier of the demon-mother Mia. After all of this, she remains sane and still manages to become a gunslinger. Damn...that woman is a beast!
Jake. The boy who fell. I have to say Jake is probably my favorite character. He dies twice (not ruining it for you!!!). He has the most impact on Roland out of all the cast of characters. I believe he reopens a closed door (hahaha) in Roland's heart, allowing this cold man to love once again, an ability he thought he lost in his travels. This boy is only ten years old, yet he becomes a gunslinger through and through, ultimately sacrificing himself to save Stephen King (the universe). Roland does not even get to be with Jake as Jake fades away, having to deal with some petty bullshit. That scene literally broke my heart. As Roland buries Jake, he gives one of the sweetest speeches, while Oy howls out his sorrow as only a billy-bumbler can. "He knelt a moment longer with his hands clasped between his knees, thinking he had not understood the true power of sorrow, nor the pain of regret, until this moment. I cannot bear to let him go. But once again, that cruel paradox: if he didn't, the sacrifice was in vain." Just rereading this part steals my breath and hurts my heart. This character impacted Roland, but he also impacted me as well.
Oy, the billy-bumbler (a sort of raccoon-dog hybrid) is one of the most fun characters. Bumblers can be trained to talk, at least before the world moved on, and Oy has some of the most sweet and most comical lines in the book series. He is Jake's best friend, for it was Jake who took him in and nursed his wounded leg. Oy himself can even be catagorized as a gunslinger, even though he never wields a gun. But he proves his bravery time after time. He also gains the respect of Roland, and that is saying a lot.
There are other characters whom I love (Callahan, Cuthbert, Alain, Susan, Sheemie, Patrick), but I will not say much about them. If you would like to know of them, read the books! But there is one who I cannot forget to talk about.
Walter o' Dim/Randall Flagg/Marten Broadcloak/whatever else he has called himself throughout time. Walter, the Man In Black, is one of the most vile villains ever created. This is a guy who you want to die so much through every book. All of the shit he put Roland through...he makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn. But isn't that what a superb villain should be like? I think so. Ka finally catches up with him in the end.
Now, for the finale. The ending of the series, while not entirely happy or satisfying, is fitting. I wouldn't have had it any other way (I cannot change ka, though ka can change me). I will only say this about the ending. It ends where is begins: Ka...
As always after the end of a long book series, I end up feeling lost. What do I read next? Should I take a break? Will anything be able to satisfy me again? O' Discordia! Where shall I go after trekking along the Path of the Beam with the last of the Line of Eld and his band of gunslingers? But, then I remember Jake, who once said, "There are other worlds than these." I find comfort in those words. I see you, Jake. See you very well and say thankee-sai! Thus, I will continue on my epic journey to the next world, and the ones thereafter.
For all of you who read this, long days and pleasant nights...
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
The Sea
Just a little excerpt on something I'm working on. Don't know what it is or even what it will become.
The sea. I always return to the sea. Every stray thought, a road; every whisper from the edge of my consciousness, a sign pointing the way to the sea, that vast and mystical body. I think it represents freedom. Yes, it must. Freedom of mind, body and soul. My soul greatly desires this freedom. It yearns to shed the shackles of society (in truth, shackles all souls wear willingly of their own accord) and seek out the liberty only the sea can offer. Others fear this, for it is a realm of uncertainty. Many a person takes comfort amidst the familiar bonds of establishment. They relish in the structure, the injustice of ordered servitude.
Not this soul, this wayward traveller you might say. I abhor that structure of society, stonelike and forbidding. Instead, I seek the sea, and may I drown in its blissful chaos.
I don't know. I like it, but I am biased.
The sea. I always return to the sea. Every stray thought, a road; every whisper from the edge of my consciousness, a sign pointing the way to the sea, that vast and mystical body. I think it represents freedom. Yes, it must. Freedom of mind, body and soul. My soul greatly desires this freedom. It yearns to shed the shackles of society (in truth, shackles all souls wear willingly of their own accord) and seek out the liberty only the sea can offer. Others fear this, for it is a realm of uncertainty. Many a person takes comfort amidst the familiar bonds of establishment. They relish in the structure, the injustice of ordered servitude.
Not this soul, this wayward traveller you might say. I abhor that structure of society, stonelike and forbidding. Instead, I seek the sea, and may I drown in its blissful chaos.
I don't know. I like it, but I am biased.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Thoughts on The Dark Tower series.
I have read many books in my almost twenty five years of life, but I had never read a novel by Stephen King, which deeply distrubed me. I have seen many of the film interpretations of his books, all of which I have loved (The Shining, Misery, It, Pet Sematary, etc.), but never have I sat down and read the actual paper-and-ink books. So, I decided that I would remedy this by picking up his seven-book epic, The Dark Tower. I am currently through the third installation, and I am loving it!
While I am not prepared to write a full review of this series, I just had to put some of my thoughts down before I lost them. King brings the world of Roland, the gunslinger, to life with such interestingly described imagery. I really enjoy his style of writing. He is blunt and unforgiving, which I admire. He's not afraid to pull any punches. I absolutely love the characters he has created. Roland, with his cold, calculating exterior which belies a kind-hearted soul (also a dark obsession to find the Tower); Eddie, the former junkie that always, and I mean always, has a witty remark on the end of his tongue; Susannah, the feiry woman who is missing both her legs from the knee down, but don't let that fool you (she is probably the strongest of the three!). I can't wait to read more!
I have always heard that, if you read a Stephen King novel, be prepared to stay on the edge of your seat. Well, I am definitely waiting on the edge of my seat, anxious to discover the answers to all of the alluring mysteries King has conjured up and placed in the gunslinger's (and my) path. He has an uncanny talent of keeping the suspense throughout the entirety of the story, even during the slower parts (of which there are very few). And I have never seen a more complex transformation of a character until I was priveledged to witness Susannah's amazing genesis. It is one of the most original, and incredible, character concepts I have ever read.
Once I finish my own journey, and I unlock the mysteries of The Dark Tower with Roland, I will go into more depth on what I thought about it.
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