“Mute,” by Stephen King (a review)
I finally found a well written, short story with a good ending by Stephen King, a little too many cuss words for my liking, but not bad; “Mute,” from the book “Just after Sunset.” In the process I found out he was seventeen-days older than I. Somehow I’m not surprised.
Anyhow let me just make a few comments, and be done with it, it was a challenge to find one with a skilful narration—no, let me, correct that, with a tri-focal, form of narration, seldom seen. His terminology in dealing with a deaf-mute is wise, not belittling. His vocabulary is a little higher in this story than in the several previous short stories I’ve read out of “Just after Sunset,” and “Night Shift.” From a forth grade level to a fifth grade level, an improvement, although he shows his limitation with his simple unneeded cussing. I was brought up in rough neighbourhood in Minnesota, and he does more cussing per short story, than I heard in a week long drunk. Do people really enjoy reading cuss words, evidently there is a group out there that must love them, I wonder if they use them themselves around the household, if so, no wonder America is going to hell in a paper bag.
The other thing I wonder about reading his stories lately, and I’m really not that much a fan of his—and have only read a few books of his, and threw them away some fifteen-years ago, finding only one well written, out of three or four, then I gave up, anyhow, I prefer H.P., and Stoker, and Clark A. Smith, and Howard, but what I notice with King, and even in “Mute,” he uses the priesthood, Jesus, the words sin, the church and its language, and all that kind of sacred talk quite a lot, as if he is himself trying to make a connection with the incarnate God-man, as if he’s trying to tempt him with his blasphemous stories. There is no doubt in my mind, he is very well aware of what he is doing, and perhaps has some childhood needles still in him because of Jesus being thrown at him, or shoved down his throat. Whatever the case, he’s surely not writing for posterity, or to get into the gates of heaven, but I suppose at an income of $173-million, that would even tempt the best of men.
I finally found a well written, short story with a good ending by Stephen King, a little too many cuss words for my liking, but not bad; “Mute,” from the book “Just after Sunset.” In the process I found out he was seventeen-days older than I. Somehow I’m not surprised.
Anyhow let me just make a few comments, and be done with it, it was a challenge to find one with a skilful narration—no, let me, correct that, with a tri-focal, form of narration, seldom seen. His terminology in dealing with a deaf-mute is wise, not belittling. His vocabulary is a little higher in this story than in the several previous short stories I’ve read out of “Just after Sunset,” and “Night Shift.” From a forth grade level to a fifth grade level, an improvement, although he shows his limitation with his simple unneeded cussing. I was brought up in rough neighbourhood in Minnesota, and he does more cussing per short story, than I heard in a week long drunk. Do people really enjoy reading cuss words, evidently there is a group out there that must love them, I wonder if they use them themselves around the household, if so, no wonder America is going to hell in a paper bag.
The other thing I wonder about reading his stories lately, and I’m really not that much a fan of his—and have only read a few books of his, and threw them away some fifteen-years ago, finding only one well written, out of three or four, then I gave up, anyhow, I prefer H.P., and Stoker, and Clark A. Smith, and Howard, but what I notice with King, and even in “Mute,” he uses the priesthood, Jesus, the words sin, the church and its language, and all that kind of sacred talk quite a lot, as if he is himself trying to make a connection with the incarnate God-man, as if he’s trying to tempt him with his blasphemous stories. There is no doubt in my mind, he is very well aware of what he is doing, and perhaps has some childhood needles still in him because of Jesus being thrown at him, or shoved down his throat. Whatever the case, he’s surely not writing for posterity, or to get into the gates of heaven, but I suppose at an income of $173-million, that would even tempt the best of men.
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