The Dark Tower: A Readers Journey
Book I - The Gunslinger
Book II - The Drawing of the Three
Book III - The Wastelands
Book IV - The Wastelands
Book V - Wolves of the Calla
Book VI - Song of Susannah
Book VII - The Dark Tower
**WARNING** SPOILERS AHEAD - read at your own risk**
I have been debating with myself whether or not I would write about Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series for some time now. With the plethora of information, critical reviews, fan-sites, essays, journal entries, fan reviews and fan recorded music out there about these books, what more could I say, or even more importantly what more NEEDS to be said? After all, everyone who has wanted to read these books already has right? Maybe not. I bought THE GUNSLINGER only about nine short months ago at a bookstore in Columbia City down the street from our first house in Seattle. Me. A huge fan of fiction AND Stephen King started reading the author’s magnum opus less than a year ago. So with this said, there must be others like me, or even more to come who for some reason or another have not read these books yet.
Is it for these who have yet to travel with Roland and his ka-tet I write this? No, ultimately it is not. Who for then? For myself. You see, as a reader of fantastic fiction and a devotee to Joseph Campbell’s work on the heroic journey, the DT series holds a very special place in my heart. As of right now, just 100 pages into THE WOLVES OF CALLA, I can safely say that in my mind right now this is the most perfect story ever written (except for the long flashback in part four). I cannot imagine that in my life, right now, right this moment there exists a story, a book, or a series of books that is more perfectly suited for me to read - I believe I was meant to read these books now, it was my time, thus to me it is a perfect story (except of course for the long flashback in part four). Now listen to what I said: THE MOST PERFECT STORY TO ME RIGHT NOW (except for the long flashback in part four). Notice that I did not say it was the best thing ever written, nor did I claim King to be the greatest author to ever live.
This aspect is important to remember for a number of reasons. Perhaps the most important of these being that that emotion like mine will play a very important role in the DT story as a whole. Remember, I have not yet read the entire series; I still have almost three whole books to finish. Which leads to the next important reason: this essay is a work in progress. It will most likely be a work in progress for a year or maybe more to come. Maybe it won’t ever be finished. I don’t know, but this is part of a journey, and a story as important as Roland’s, and ultimately King’s, deserves to have my reactions, emotions, and analysis recorded. Eventually this work in progress will take the form of one or more of the following:
1. A scholarly work that will bedazzle and impress fiction fans and writers for years to come.
2. Nothing but a jumbled ego stroke, a sort of post-modern blog of nonsense.
3. An unfinished jumbled ego stroking post-modern blog.
4. A personal journal of a literary journey important to me, and maybe shared by others.
Whatever the outcome one thing is evident - this must be written. If for no other reason than to clarify and expound upon a very important revelation I had tonight (September 13th, 2005 12:40 a.m.) while getting into book five - I have figured it all out. I know what the Dark Tower is.
The Dark Tower itself IS fiction, it IS story. In this case, more specifically it represents the stories King writes and the stories that influenced him as an author. The Dark Tower is where King, the god of his universe, reigns supreme and all of his stories stem from the tower like spokes, The Beams, stretching into the distance and shaping the world around them. Story is the most important aspect to a writer of fiction. Without story there would be no fiction, no oral tradition, no myth, nothing. To an author like King who not only makes a living telling stories, but also uses stories as a personal way to deal with life and express his inner soul, to not have stories is like not existing. Something in King’s world is amiss, something has usurped his own thrown, his own place of rule from the tower and is causing his stories to unravel. This mystery is what the ka-tet is searching for, and ultimately it is up to them to not only save their world, but Stephen King’s world as well.
NOTE
As I sift through Roland’s journey, and in turn King’s world, I will be updating this analysis from time to time. I will be handling the updates in a variety of ways. Each book of the series will have its own section, and there will also be a section where I tie everything together. If everything turns out according to plan, I am hoping this will be one of the more in depth studies of King’s The Dark Tower. I hope you enjoy what I have to say.
The Gunslinger
I’ve been craving an imaginative, mature, epic fantasy lately. Something without elves, dwarves, and the host of other post-Tolkien fantasy cliché. I’ve been craving something that is well-written, and not groan inducing, and something that is genrebusting in nature. All too often, I’ll pick up a fantasy book, read a few pages, and promptly return it to the shelf, shaking my head at the trite prose and tired exposition. Needless to say, I’ve been having trouble finding something that fits these criteria. And so, I have once again turned to Mid-world, and to Roland, the gunslinger, and to Stephen King to fill this literary void in my life.
Ever since I finished book VII of the Dark Tower series, I have wanted to revisit King’s illustrious creation. My mind is constantly being drawn back to the adventures of the ka-tet, and even while reading other fiction I can’t shake the amazing memories I have of the grand, epic, and groundbreaking adventure King created. As I have said before, even though I do not think the Dark Tower books are the best ever written, the story King tells is my favorite – I have never read anything that touched me like this series did, and I will be surprised if I ever do in the future.
I am currently reading (or have finished reading, depending on when this is posted) the expanded version of Book I, The Gunslinger, and even though it has been over two years since I first finished it, the stuff King added is readily apparent. While some of it seems just a little forced (and in all honesty, the changes were forced by the way the story evolved over the three decades King worked on it), most of it works, and only further adds to the incredible modern mythos. The changes King made to the first book point more to the metatextual layers found in the final three books of the saga, while they also help to bring The Gunslinger more in tune with what comes later.
Because The Gunslinger was among King’s earliest creations, the prose, syntax, and focus are quite different than his later work, especially when compared to the final three books of the Dark Tower series. To remedy this, King went back to the first book and added more of Mid-world’s lexicon to the dialog, including more of the slang and platitudes he created. He also added passages about the number nineteen, Roland’s lost horn (a significance that becomes apparent after finishing Book VII), and more foreshadowing of what is to come in the later installments. To put it simply, The Gunslinger now feels more like a part of a series, and not just an introductory chapter to a grander story.
While some may disparage King for these changes, I’ve read more than one comparison to George Lucas, I do not. The changes do not feel as if they are fueled by fan-pleading, or by an artist wanting to change his historical legacy. They feel authentic and meaningful, and help to solidify the mythology King created. Ultimately the changes work because they do not alter the core story, the characters, or the mythology in any way. This is not a case of Han Solo shooting first. Roland is not pussified, modernized, or made to appear more PC. They are there only to build upon, and strengthen the overarching themes and mythology.
What is most changed in the expanded edition of The Gunslinger (beyond the platitudes and slang) is the relationship between Roland and Jake, and the foreshadowing the relationship points to. Knowing the fate(s) of the future Jake makes reading about his first encounter with Roland all the more tragic, and it also makes the Man in Black a far more menacing presence. Armed with the knowledge of what is to come, I am finding that I am enjoying The Gunslinger more the second time around. King litters these novels with tons of clues for repeat readers to pick up on, and the nuance of the characters is brilliant. King excels at many things, but creating vibrant, and authentic characters is his strongest suit. The Dark Tower series contains some of my all time favorite literary relationships, and the way King sets up the character of Roland in this first volume is masterful.
Even though the series contains a party of adventurers, it really is Roland's story - or, more importantly, King's story. Each character introduced to the ka-tet is done so to bring something to Roland's table, and each character represents a test of character for Roland. The Gunslinger finds Roland dealing with betrayal, lust, murder, and, most importantly, trust. As a lone gunmen, caught in a world that has moved on, left him far behind, Roland longs for meaningful relationships, he longs to trust, and to be trusted. Jake, the boy from our world, allows Roland an opportunity to embrace his own humanity, if only for a brief time. However, Roland, a creature of habit, like all of the gunslingers, reverts back to his cold, instinctual ways and thus, ironically, prolongs the inevitable and tragic outcome of his own quest for the Dark Tower.
While after my first reading I thought of The Gunslinger as a nice introduction, it wasn't as memorable as my favorite books in the series - it seemed more like a long prologue. However, the expanded edition does a lot to elevate this book in my mind. It feels far more fleshed out, and more in tune with the series. The carefully spaced new material does wonders to add even more mystery and nuance to Roland and his world, and because I now know the fate of Roland and his ka-tet, I am far more interested in the journey, and not the destination. While I tried to read the series as a "Susannah" the first time through, in all honesty, I read it as a "Roland," and while this might seem odd to those of you reading this, these metaphors will become more clear as I parse through my thoughts on each of these books.
What We Learn of Roland in Book I
As a character study, The Gunslinger is magnificent. We learn a great about Roland during the brief flashbacks and palavers he has with Jake and the Man in Black, Walter O'Dim. We are shown that, as a boy, during his training, Roland was not (or did not appear to be) the brightest of his peers. He was tenacious, a tank, and kind of brutish, but deceptively thoughtful - a trait that his cruel, tough-loving teacher, Cort, violently learns.
In Tull, a wasted little dust-bowl town on the outskirts of nowhere, we learn more of Roland. We learn of his passion through his relationship with Allie. We learn that Roland is able to see past the mere physical, even if it is only to serve his own cause. We learn that, even though Roland is stoic, the emotions he does possess are quite authentic, and deep rooted. We also learn that, when need be, Roland can become overwrought with murderous fury, leaving long trails of cold, dead, and bloodied bodies in his wake.
In the two most telling vignettes, we learn of Roland's stubbornness, and his selfishness. Roland is a creature of undying drive, a man driven by his heroic journey, all else be damned. The first of these, his coming of age trial, where he faces off against Cort in a one-on-one, violent melee, we learn of how Roland uses his friends to get what he wants. When Roland and Cort face off, Roland chooses a hawk, David, as his weapon. The hawk pecks and claws Cort's face, leaving it barely recognizable, but the hawk dies in the process. When asked by Cort how he trained the hawk to attack in such a way, Roland responds by saying he didn't, “he befriended him.” Roland's friends always seem to die.
The second of these vignettes finds Roland coming to to terms with the brutal future in store for his new found companion, Jake of New York. Jake, only a small boy, is played like a trump card, first by the Man in Black, and then by Roland. Jake, the “poker chip,” is used as leverage. He is used by the Man in Black to slow Roland down, and, ultimately, he is sacrificed because of Roland's obsession with the Dark Tower. Roland is faced with a simple problem: to save the boy, he must abandon the Tower. Roland choses the Tower.
In the final chapter of the book, we find Roland and the Man in Black holding palaver. They talk of the Tower, the Crimson King who reigns over the land, the size of the universe, and of Roland's fate, or, more precisely, the inevitable fate of the three companions Roland is to draw into his mad and twisted quest.. Walter O'Dim, perhaps Merlin in one universe, the man who tempted Roland's mother, and the Crimson King's emissary, finds Roland's bull-dog attitude amusing. He toys with Roland and expands Roland's mind at the same time.
Here, we learn that Roland is not a typical hero, or anti-hero. He is merely a man of great strength who will stop at nothing to complete his quest. His quest is a deeply personal one, and one not guided by a hope to save the world from evil. His quest is one of personal discovery, and it is on this revelation that he Dark Tower's narrative is hinged. Roland is not called to be “the one,” he is not out to rid the world of evil forces. Roland's quest is simply to discover why he wants to reach the top of the Dark Tower, and this simple premise is the perfect catalyst for a grand and epic journey.
As an interesting side note, we also gather the first hints that, perhaps, Stephen King doesn't really like Roland, an idea that surfaces quickly in the prologue of book II.
Did-a-chick? Dum-a-chum? Dad-a-cham? Ded-a-check?
The Dark Tower as Metaphor - Part 1
The Dark Tower represents fiction and story telling. Each author has his or her own "Dark Tower." The Tower is the place where ideas are born. King writes about the Tower's "beams." Each beam is a powerful, direction force that extends from the Tower, and reaches out into the worlds of the author's creations; the beams are the threads holding the tapestry of mythology together. These beams create the very fabric of mythology, of story telling, of literature. During times of great creative output, and during times when people are reading, the various towers remain strong, and their beams ebb and flow with great power.
The authors and the readers benefit from these creative times, as mythologies grow deeper and more engaging, better and more nuanced stories are told, and there is more good stuff to digest and create. However, when an author loses his or her voice, or when readers stop reading and caring about the stories, the towers begin to crumble, and the beams that once held everything together begin to dissipate and grow weak. When this happens, worlds begin to implode, fictions become crossed, the lines of distinction become blurry, and the mythology becomes watered down.
Roland's journey begins after a time of collapse, and his quest to find, and perhaps save, The Dark Tower becomes a quest to save the very fabric of fiction. King has always been concerned with story telling, and with The Dark Tower he wanted to create one of the longest, most important, and epic works of modern literature. Roland's quest to find the Tower, becomes a metaphor for King's journey as an author. The two are inseparable, and they must coincide for either to maintain a sense of authenticity, passion, and vitality.
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Book II
Book III
Book IV
Wolves of The Calla
Wolves of the Calla is the most mature book in The Dark Tower Series thus far. It has a sort of Eastern-Western vibe throughout, coming off like Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai filtered through Sergio Leone-tinted glasses with a touch of Eastwood’s High Plains Drifter thrown in for violent measure. The narrative is quite methodically paced with ample amounts of time given for the characters to grow and the readers to become emotionally involved in the story as a whole. Which is a good thing too, because it is in this book that King clearly defines the direction the narrative is moving and gives us clues as to what the Dark Tower means to Roland and his ka-tet, as well as what this whole thing means to Stephen King, the real life author.
Much of the dialogue and focus in Wolves is about stories themselves. In the previous installments King had offered a wide array of homage’s and narrative crossings, but in Wolves King lays all the cards on the table. The first passage that struck me and made me realize where this whole crazy tale was pointing was at the bottom of page 40 when Roland, Eddie and the ka-tet are discussing different genres in fiction. In this passage Eddie explains the various genres to Roland and how the people of his world (Eddie’s world or a world that closely resembles ours) don’t like things jumbled up. We don’t like our stories to be like “stew” but we like horror to be horror, action to be action and so on. It is here that I first realized that King was not only talking about the story within this story, but he was also commenting on his own personal life and how it has become impossible to separate the two - his life is imitating his art and vise versa. This theory also touches upon something that I have been writing about recently in my newest film reviews.
In my reviews for Godzilla Final Wars and Seven Swords, I spoke of the preconceived notions fans have for their beloved genres. A film or book is more likely to be enjoyed and accepted if it follows these established genre convictions. However, when a film, or book, falls outside the boundaries of these genre boxes, it requires more of the audience’s attention as it challenges our sensibilities and the established genre norms. Usually films and books that test these norms wind up being cult classics that have a hardcore and very dedicated, albeit small, fan base; in turn this kind of entertainment often does not bode well with the mainstream. However, it is these genre-busting examples that set the standards and the new convictions for others to follow.
The Dark Tower series does not follow genre convictions: it does not fit easily into any pre-configured genre boxes as it is equal parts drama, western, horror, action, and epic fantasy. King says in his book On Writing that when he does a book signing, or conducts a lecture/speech he likes to make his audience participate in an impromptu survey. He asks how many of them, by show of hands, have read one of his books. King says usually almost all of the hands go up. With hands raised, he asks them how many have read a Dark Tower book, and about half the hands go down. He then asks how many of those remaining have read the entire Dark Tower series, and yet another half goes down, leaving a quarter of the total audience. However, guess which books he gets the most passionate fan mail about? A’yuh, you guessed it, The Dark Tower series, thus proving, at least when King is concerned, my theory.
A very practical problem has arisen because King no longer fits nicely into the “horror” genre, and the problem is this: just where in the hell do you put an author like King? What section do you confine him to? But more importantly, why must we confine our authors, musicians and filmmakers to certain ghettos? With Wolves of the Calla King proved, once again, that his books are no less studies of humanity and character driven drama than any other work of fiction, classic or not. The difference is rather than have some high brow Victorian romantic-foil, King pits his antagonists against evil incarnate - monsters, robots, possessed machinery, inner and outer-demons and aliens, what have you - when you boil stories down to their core, genre fades away and you are left with a scant few differing narratives. With Wolves King clearly crossed all of these lines and wrote a book that could easily sit in any major fiction section of your local Borders bookseller. I for one was quite happy the day the major bookstores moved King out of the “horror” section and into the standard “Literature/Fiction/Authors” section, as this was one step closer to him being accepted into the American Literary canon.
So, how does Wolves bust these genre barriers and elevate itself above mere pulp entertainment (not that there is anything wrong with pulp entertainment)? Well it does so in a variety of ways. First of all, the narrative seamlessly breaks the fourth wall as the world of the author, the characters and the reader start to merge and become interchangeable. However, the narrative does not become just another “author’s characters out of control” type story, nor does King revert to post-modern tricks or gimmicks of prose. The first and most pronounced example of this is the re-introduction of a Stephen King character fondly remembered by all who read ‘Salem’s Lot, a man by the name of Father Callahan.
In Wolves, Roland and his ka-tet stumble upon Callahan in a small farming village called Calla Bryn Sturgis. Here, Callahan has once again taken up the cloth and has become a kind of mentor/priest for the locals, and he also protects a valuable and dangerous artifact called Black Thirteen which just so happens to be an eye of the Crimson King and opens a way to travel from one world to another. Callahan tells Roland and the others his own story of what happened to him the years after the accounts written about in ‘Salem’s Lot and how he discovered the secret highways of America that opened to different parallel worlds. Callahan’s tale serves two purposes: to inform the characters and the reader of important back story, and to be a kind of informal sequel, a story within a story, to one of King’s most beloved novels.
Callahan soon shows the ka-tet a secret door in a cave that leads back to his, Eddie’s, Jake’s, and Susanna’s world and the city of New York. With the help of the evil artifact Black Thirteen, they travel to New York, and back to the book store where Jake first received the book of riddles, and to the empty lot where the rose has grown - a place of power and a place that is very close to the Dark Tower itself. Is it any coincidence that King, an author of fiction and lover of books, would have his characters travel to a bookstore? Not when the very idea of story and fiction is the crux on which his entire tale rests.
Through a long twist of events Eddie Dean winds up brining a glass-case full of first edition books back with him as he escapes from New York to End-World through the door in the cave. Roland eventually stumbles upon a very interesting book in the case that captures his attention. Roland finds a first edition misprinted copy of a book called ‘Salem’s Lot, by an author named Stephen King. He gives the book to Father Callahan who is absolutely astounded and quite pissed off. Here, between the two covers, Callahan reads an important chunk of his own life story; written with the greatest of detail by a man he has never heard of - how could this be? Callahan starts to freak out as his whole existence comes into question. Is he just a character in some deranged author’s book or imagination? How could this be true when he is so real and has traveled to so many places and lived his life outside of the novel’s narrative? Who is to say the rest of the characters are nothing but pawns in some game of prose and that their journey is nothing more than an author’s pretentious ego stroke?
To further move away from the “author’s characters gone awry” story (which the Dark Tower is clearly not - at least not up to book 7), we must return to King’s book On Writing. In an interview within, King states that he does not write his plots, nor does he create his characters. Instead, he says he finds them. King looks at himself as some kind of archeologist who digs up remnants and mythologies of other worlds through his craft: as Roland is a gunslinger in his world, King is a wordslinger in his own. With this in mind, it is clear to see that Callahan, Roland, Eddie, Susanna, Jake and Oy are not characters created by Stephen King. These characters are actually people that exist or existed in some world, in some time, that King stumbled upon, excavated and recorded their adventures for us to read. With this scenario in place, it would be quite easy for Stephen King himself to make an appearance in the story - which he does. After all, it wouldn’t even have to be the real King; it could be another King from another when and where.
Okay, so the book has some deeper meaning to the author, and to the reader. It breaks the fourth wall and leaves room for some insightful analysis. This is all fine and dandy, but is it any damn good? In a word, or two, hell yeah. Not only is Wolves the most mature book of the series, it is also my personal favorite of the six I have read. What I really love about the book is the build up to the climatic finish, and the answers the characters and readers unearth during the many palavers. The narrative is methodically paced, and like the films ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13, RIO BRAVO and SEVEN SAMURAI, the entire thing really is all set up for one final action set piece.
The palavers, or talks, the characters have in Wolves are utterly fascinating and King does a remarkable job of balancing back-story and answering questions during these discussions - they are all remarkably entertaining as well. We learn about The Breakers, which are in no simple terms the minions of the Crimson King (evil) and basically every evil force in King’s entire written catalog is a Breaker of some sort. The Breakers are the enemies of the Dark Tower and they want nothing more than to destroy the beams and destroy what the Tower stands for. We also learn about the evil artifact Black Thirteen, its connection to todash (the traveling between worlds), and more about the beautiful rose growing in the empty lot in New York. The narrative during these long-winded talks is wonderfully constructed and King draws the reader into the world like no other.
Because of the slow but engaging narrative, we have ample time to spend with the characters and their own personal conflicts, each of which reveals important layers of characterization. We see Jake become a young man, Eddie take more responsibility, Roland suffer from physical affliction, and Susanna becomes yet another entity, this time a woman named Mia who just so happens to be pregnant with a demon spawn she calls “her chap.” The quality time spent with each character makes for fascinating discoveries that reminded me of real times I have spent getting to know real people. If there was ever an author who knew how to write character development and dialogue it is Stephen King - this is trait that I believe King shares no equal.
When the final conflict finally arrives, we have spent so much time with the characters that each and every action means the world. The conflict is fast and furious hardly leaving room for the characters or the reader to breathe. As the Wolves attack the ka-tet and the village itself (trying to kidnap their children and feed their brains to the Breakers who use them for psychic energy), they all to soon realize that they are up against a competent foe. Like Clint Eastwood’s character in HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER, Roland has carefully laid out a finely crafted plan and trap for the invading marauders: of course, in typical thriller fashion, part of the plan backfires, but this only ads to the already thick atmosphere and excitement. With The Drawing of the Three, King proved he could write pure action on par with anyone, and in the closing battle of Wolves, he solidified this accomplishment with a thrilling action set piece worthy of Kurosawa, Leone and Carpenter.
So, in a long-winded and round about way, it is safe to say that Wolves of the Calla is an excellent work of fiction, and the narrative is nearly flawless in its execution. I almost wish this volume were not part of a bigger series because I would love to recommend this novel to everyone who reads. It handles the fantastic elements with an air of maturity and reverence, it draws and details wonderful characters with real desires and conflicts, it tells an exciting and suspenseful tale, and answers more questions than it asks. Wolves of the Calla is an exemplary novel of wonderful prose, and one that this constant reader will always remember fondly.
Book VI
Book VII
