"She thinks of Bill Hodges, sitting with her one day on the steps of his little house. Bill saying Sometimes the universe throws you a rope. If it does, climb it. See what's at the top."
"Holly" is the latest Stephen King installment featuring a character he fell in love with -- and has been unable to let go of -- years ago, Holly Gibney. Now embarking on heading up the detective agency we've seen her at previously, she is pursuing a missing-person case on the heels of her domineering mother passing and still dealing with the loss of her mentor, Bill Hodges -- all under the specter of Covid.
"They each hold one of the old poet's hands. There are no last words. Olivia looks at Marie. She looks at Barbara. She smiles. She dies. A world of words dies with her."
Working in an obscure Ohio town where a disproportionate number of freaky things happen (a Midwest Derry, if you will), Holly stumbles across similar cases with potential connective tissue (pun intended) and makes some bad decisions in acting independently. Some predictability occurs, but the master of the literary jump-cut still has a handful of tricks up his sleeve.
"They watch TV and have their desert, spooning up a mixture of raspberry sorbet and Peter Steinman's brains."
In this tale, Holly is much more well-adjusted, which makes her a little less relatable and unique. The book ends with some question about her future plans and potential retirement, but my suspicion is that King will be hard-pressed to subvert his compulsion to add to his collection of Holly Gibney tales.
" ... At three in the morning the mind fills up with unpleasant shadows and some of them have teeth."
No comments:
Post a Comment