A group of six quirky but resilient kids fall into the path of a immense and fearsome otherworldly darkness that has invaded our world from the farthest reaches of shadow. They are compelled to devote their lives fighting it, enduring horror after horror in the struggle.
This is the plot, broadly speaking, of Stephen King’s seminal work It (his best; no arguments). It similarly frames of Stephen King’s offspring Joseph Hillstrom King’s latest massive horror novel, in which a close-knit group invoke the age-old, infinitely malicious beast the Dragon King from the Abyssal Void to assist them in vanquishing some antagonists. As one might expect, their supernatural ritual has unintended consequences.
Joe Hill started his career striving diligently to remain separate from his renowned parent, adopting the nom de plume he still uses today and avoiding meeting his agent (he bears a uncanny likeness to his dad). Yet with this recent release, he fully acknowledges it. Several quotes that deliberately echo some of his father’s iconic (the famous Dark Tower introduction); a incident that evokes a recurring theme in King’s works (a riddling contest). In this epic story, Hill is delighting in his heritage, and we delight along with him.
Focusing on the companions: five of them are scholars at the imagined this academic setting in Maine. First is Arthur, studious and brilliant, cracking ancient puzzles in his leisure hours; another key figure, affluent, astute, and known for crushing obstacles in his path; Donna and Donovan; the stunning Allie. And there’s Gwen, who remains outside their academic circle, but emerges as crucial of their group as they dabble, half believing, partly skeptical, in supernatural practices.
Arthur is, due to circumstances beyond his control, forced into stealing valuable volumes from his cherished academic collection by a bunch of local criminals. This tears at his bookish heart, especially when he’s compelled to seize the library’s most valuable and chilling publication: the logbook of adept the historical figure (condemned “for conspiring with dark forces in 1703”; the binding is fashioned from his hide). These young investigators examine the log, discover they could summon what Crane describes as a “arrogant beast to assist Arthur with his coercion issue – and devote the remaining story reaping the consequences. This ancient entity will certainly eliminate those annoying regional antagonists, but they’ll have to choose a fresh offering each year or succumb to the dragon’s wrath. As Arthur later puts it: “You invoke terrible forces, all you get is further monstrosities.”
Covering a generation, the author shifts with seamless grace through various literary forms: as the companions strive to manage the situation they find themselves in by, through diverse methods, choosing undeniably wicked targets to sacrifice, or searching for methods to kill the dragon themselves, we transition from thriller to shadowy tale, black-ops torture to romance to fright. One particularly memorable shift was to a heroic journey, within the subterranean depths below Cornwall, a part sprinkled with JRR Tolkien that was gloriously terrifying.
There are trolls – bridge-dwelling ones and online ones, properly scary and superbly depicted. There are magical swords and deceptions, heart-stopping scenes of courage and scenes of appalling malevolence, both mortal and otherworldly. It stands as a masterpiece: a frightening tale that is primarily a ode to the human inventiveness, and to affection and camaraderie. “We needed a story to believe and {now we’ve got one|presently we possess it|currently we hold it,” says the wealthy student as the companions assemble around a surface, making preparations to call forth their beast to life with the power of their thoughts.
As Hill puts it in his epigraph: “Here be dragons”. Don’t miss them.
A seasoned IT strategist with over 15 years of experience in digital transformation and enterprise software solutions.