The Gunslinger by Stephen King
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I’ve started an evening reread of this series. It’s been my favorite since I discovered it when I was about twelve. back then it was unlike anything I’d ever read, and it being before big ARGs and all, I ate all the connections and references and easter eggs up with the proverbial spoon. I mentally cast the movies. I to tried my darndest to predict where things would go with the end and spoilers of every new book.
The Gunslinger, however, is before all that. It’s spare and lays mysteries at our feet. The gunslinger we meet is the shadow of the one that develops as his quest becomes more urgent and likely to succeed.
I think King was a little obsessed with his characters as archetypes.
Roland is the epitome of the Lone Stranger. He is a mystery even to himself. That it becomes something of the reason he is the one to make it is interesting, but I do sometimes wonder if it isn’t a sort of cop out. Roland’s belief and romance is buried deep within and nothing can touch it, even him.
Marten is THE man in black,the evil enchanter, the MacGuffen of the day.
The version I read this time was the “special edition” I’m annoyed by some things in retrospect, and somehow still disappointed that he didn’t to specials for all the books up to that final stretch. There are the comics, now,I suppose.
Looking back at this I realize I didn’t say much coherent, but I loved and still love these books.
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Because I almost forgot… And am all about the lazy. Pic from right now on my deck.
I just realized that I’m almost one year in to our new life. It has been one heck of a year. There are still some things I’m debating on, but I can’t say life isn’t about a hundred percent improved.
The changes aren’t all the changes we thought they’d be, but I’m working at a job I like and so is my husband. We love right in the same town my family does. Our house is great. We finally have a new vehicle. Our debt is almost taken care of. I’m not bragging. God has just been good.
We’ve also lost loved ones and ridden right up to the edge of panic. God is just good. He saves you. He saved us.
The adoption we had been thinking about hasn’t come to pass. I’ve been adjusting to having less time for making and projects, and less energy to spare.
Really it seems more like less ability to pick what I really, really want. I’ve also fallen out of love with all three novels I was working on. I still love having something complete in my hands or brain, but my head keeps mocking me with procrastination and … I don’t know.
I’ve been doing way too much navel gazing, lately.
So, I’m going to post a picture of the current state-of-the-project overtunic I’m making.
The awesome and huge vintage doctor bag I found at the antique shop. The inside is nearly pristine!
A view from my chair of our new family room.
The deer that keep coming up out of Ferne Cliffe park into our street.
The Knit-along sweater I finally finished in time to wear to GenCon.
So, of course, I’m living in the new house. With a new house comes new house quirks. Rooms are in different places. A cabinet door is loose. A spigot drips a little. The back room houses a doorway to hell. You know…things.
On a recent morning, my husband had a bracing surprise. His toilet was looking back at him! There was a frog swimming in the toilet papery depths. I blearily ran to see what the shout was about. Because neither of us speak English before 8 it took a few tries to get it across: a frog was in the toilet. By this time the little bugger had leaped up on the edge of the toilet, and that freaked me out more, somehow. It could get out at us! As if a frog the size of a half-dollar could be much of a threat. My hero rescued us. By this time he found a small box to trick the frog into and toss it out on the deck.
I thought little of it, but this ritual repeated itself a week or so later. This inspired a paranoid inspection of the exterior of my house. What was bringing the Egyptian plagues to my house?
I considered sacrificing something, and was giving the neighbor’s horses the eye, when I saw the crack in the cap to the sewage outlet thing. Epoxy, a metal plate and duct tape later and we haven’t had any visitors since… We are just lucky it wasn’t a snake… Oh crap, why did I think that, now…?