“‘Manchester said that if you put the murdered president on one side of a scale and Oswald -- the wretched waif -- on the other, it didn’t balance. No way did it balance. If you wanted to give Kennedy’s death some meaning, you’d have to add something heavier. Which explains the proliferation of conspiracy theories.’”
“There were no violins or warning bells when I pulled the janitor’s theme off the top of the stack and set it before me, no sense that my little life was about to change. But we never know, do we? Life turns on a dime.”
“He leaned forward, his eyes not just bright; they were blazing.
‘You can change history, Jake. Do you understand that? John Kennedy can live.’”
Leave it to Stephen King to envision a scenario where John F. Kennedy escapes Lee Harvey Oswald’s bullet to live out his legacy. And leave it to Stephen King to discover that that post-JFK world would be even shittier than the one we’re living now.
And while we’re at it, leave Stephen King to appoint a man who doesn’t know how to cry to handle the mission of saving JFK. Because all of that and more are what comprise King’s latest work, “11/22/63.”
King employs the premise of a depressed small-town writer (Jake Epping) fulfilling a dying diner owner’s wish by walking out of a mobile home and emerging 50 years in the past, with one vital task in front of him. What ensues brings up all kinds of questions about the butterfly effect, time envisioned as strings in a spider web, how decisions reverberate through the eons and how sometimes love doesn’t stop to ask what year you’re from.
“‘Because this matters, Jake. As far as I’m concerned, it matters more than anything else. If you ever wanted to change the world, this is your chance. Save Kennedy, save his brother. Save Martin Luther King. Stop the race riots. Stop Vietnam, maybe.’ He leaned forward. ‘Get rid of one wretched waif, buddy, and you could save millions of lives.’”
Two things jumped out at me in reviewing the book after reading it: it took him nearly two years to write, which is a long time for King. And that this was a book 40 years in the making, as he initially thought of the project that many years ago, but felt he wasn’t experienced or accomplished enough as a writer to do the work justice.
For a story that reads like a history book at times, King, as always, finds a way to make it completely engrossing. One technique that King uses often is to advance the plot through the use of song lyrics that are tied to specific memories and feelings. Another is his sudden introduction of revelations from the future, in a way that shocks the reader out of any comfort level he or she may be having with the pace and tone of the book. Cross-referencing characters from his pantheon of books is another cherished King tactic, so the resonances of “It” were well-placed and timely -- though the mention of Bevvie and Richie had me scrambling for a Stephen King encyclopedia I had.
The first-person choice was another wise one by King, who allowed the reader to experience America from a half-century ago through the perspective of Jake. However, the book began with a lot of talk about a janitor, which makes the reader a bit curious as to what is role in the coming tale will be, but King eventually explains his role and importance as a corollary to the main story.
The finality of Jake’s choice to embrace this epic challenge leaves him to traverse the country while making a number of key stops along the way. As a North Carolina native, it was mildly disappointing that the only reference to the state was to point out its pervasive racism, through a story about a path behind a gas station lined with poison ivy for coloreds to use as their bathroom. Also, Jake’s brief stay in Sunset Point, Florida, reminded me some of the storyline of King’s “Duma Key.”
On the down side, there were times when I felt like King did a poor job of representing how much time had passed (pun intended) on Jake’s third visit to the past; it seemed as if all of a sudden, the tale had leapt ahead two years. But I guess since the sole reason for Jake’s existence in that parallel time lay five years in the future, it became difficult for King to document the passage of time, since Jake was purposely trying to waste the time and pass the days, without jarring the future too much.
“Because the past isn’t just obdurate; it’s in harmony with both itself and the future.”
“Coincidences happen, but I’ve come to believe they are actually quite rare. Something is at work, okay? Somewhere in the universe (or behind it), a great machine is ticking and turning its fabulous gears.”
As well, King has always struggled when writing women; frankly, he doesn’t do it very well and never has. He also has a tendency to overplay the hilarity of his humor, which only makes the dialogue a bit more awkward at times. Along these lines, I found Jake’s courtship of Sadie both hokey and beautiful (“She filled a large amount of space in a very nice way ...”). That Jake eventually drew Sadie into his problems was inevitable, though still a bit surprising. And of course, there wouldn’t have been much of a payoff if all had gone as planned for Jake.
And finally, though I’m rarely critical of King’s choices, I took issue with his decision to include an addendum about a “last dance” between Sadie and Jake. I felt it cheapened the ending quite a bit, and it was a bit difficult to digest, as it seemed out of character for King to go that route. The addendum allowed him to hedge his bets a little bit with the sacrifice that Jake made -- knowingly or not -- and I didn’t think that was fair to what Jake went through in 1958, in 1963, in 2011 or in any of the ensuing years.
As usual, those quibbles and discrepancies pale in comparison to the overwhelmingly vivid and involving story -- and world -- that King is able to painstakingly (though easily, if that makes sense) construct for us. King is able to evoke a surprising level of emotion through Jake’s second life as a schoolteacher, and the bonds he forms with his students and the community. There were some real touching moments related to the play he directed, and especially the football player, Mike Coslaw, that he helped turn into an acting version of a diamond in the rough. And of course, King, as usual, comes through at the end, evoking a hyper-intensity that makes you feel as if you’re in it with Jake and Sadie, racing the clock to stop an event that actually already happened.
“For a moment, everything was clear, and when that happens you see that the world is barely there at all. Don’t we all secretly know this? It’s a perfectly balanced mechanism of shouts and echoes pretending to be wheels and cogs, a dreamclock chiming beneath a mystery-glass we call life. Behind it? Below it and around it? Chaos, storms. Men with hammers, men with knives, men with guns. Women who twist what they cannot dominate and belittle what they cannot understand. A universe of horror and loss surrounding a single lighted stage where mortals dance in defiance of the dark.”
The novel was well-researched by King (he said he read a stack of books and articles “almost as tall as I am”), which became very evident through the minutiae and exquisite detailing he exhibited. The what-if nature of his affinity for JFK bled through, and one can almost tell he was relieved that, at the end of his research, he was “ninety-eight percent, maybe even ninety-nine” convinced that Oswald acted alone.
I felt like the storyline about the betting goons tracking Jake down seemed a trifle over the top, but the resulting coma dream state was well-handled—and even lends itself to the cinematic format. In fact, like many King works, “11/22/63” is very easy to envision as a movie -- and a really good one. Along similar cinematic lines, in the alternate future created by Jake’s changing of the past, the instability of the earth’s crust is referenced at one point, similar to the movie “2012” (not John Cusack’s finest day); the resulting landscape brought up elements of “Children of Men.”
But purely on the page, it’s a thinking man’s novel. Because at its core, “11/22/63” turned out to be a love story; but also -- and not in an unrelated way -- about teaching a man to weep, not for the future (like Ferris Bueller’s waiter), but for the past as well as a lost present. Though its very existence and rules are confusing, the wormhole for Jake represents not only a purpose to his life, but also an escape hatch out of a mundane, broken present. And the more times that Jake heads into the past, we see his confidence growing, as well as his assertiveness as a person; in fact, we see him growing as a person throughout.
“But I believe in love, you know; love is a uniquely portable magic. I don’t think it’s in the stars, but I do believe that blood calls to blood and mind calls to mind and heart to heart.”
That growth results in Jake learning how to cry by the end. The theme of the man who can’t cry is omnipresent, but not pervasive. It is brought up again at a key moment near the end, in a way that makes us feel that the world threw as much as possible at this guy to see just what it would take to bring tears.
“ ... I will lay my wet face on the pillow and pray to a God I can’t quite believe in to send my Sadie some good angel so she can live. And love. And dance.
“Goodbye, Sadie.
“You never knew me, but I love you, honey.”
And even through the prism of Jake’s tears, we develop a melancholy connection and wistful desire for the America of 50 years ago, despite what that might mean and what it might cost. That may be King’s biggest achievement in “11/22/63” -- the acknowledgement of what we might be willing to give up in exchange for a few fleeting, dancing moments in a world that finally, briefly harmonizes itself.
“Life turns on a dime. Sometimes toward us, but more often it spins away, flirting and flashing as it goes: so long, honey, it was good while it lasted, wasn’t it?”
“Home is watching the moon rise over the open, sleeping land and having someone you can call to the window, so you can look together. Home is where you dance with others, and dancing is life.”
“‘Jake.’
‘What, honey?’
She smiled. ‘How we danced!’”
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