April Reading Log

 

I spent a lot of time in three big books this month, wrapping up all three just in time to quickly polish off a novella and write up this log. Take a look!

THE BACHMAN BOOKS by Stephen King

From 1977 to 1985, bestselling novelist Stephen King periodically released short novels under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman, a ruse that endured until a bookstore clerk in Washington D.C. noticed the similarities in Bachman and King's writing styles. Tracking down a publishing document in the Library of Congress, the clerk proved the two men to be one and the same and King's secret identity was blown once and for all. The Bachman Books collects the first four of the pseudonymous novels.

Rage is the most (in)famous of the four books due to King's 1997 decision to allow it to fall out of print. The book tells the story of Charlie Decker, a disturbed high schooler who shoots his teacher and holds the class hostage. When the book was tied to several real life school shootings in the 1980s and 1990s—one shooter had not only read the book, but written an essay about it—King decided a book arguably glamorizing school shooters didn't need to be out there, a verdict that looks wiser and wiser as time goes on. Controversy aside, this also just isn't a great book—borrowing heavily from The Catcher in the Rye and The Breakfast Club, it doesn't hold up to careful scrutiny, and its protagonist is never as sympathetic as he's supposed to be.

The Long Walk is generally regarded as the best of the four Bachman books, with good reason. It tells the story of an annual Hunger Games-esque competition in which contestants walk across the United States and are shot dead by monitoring soldiers if they stop. Like all the best Stephen King novels, it's a compelling premise which is then given life by his writing voice. Even when the story drags, it feels purposeful, your fatigue as a reader mirroring that of the long walkers. While the ending feels anticlimactic, this was definitely my favorite of the stories in this volume.

Roadwork is a story that screams 1970s, both intentionally and unintentionally. Like Taxi Driver and Death Wish, it tells the story of a man let down by modern society—in this case, because of the seizure by eminent domain of his home and his business in order to build a highway extension—who turns to vigilantism, building an arsenal of guns and dynamite to go out in a blaze of glory. Like Rage, the character isn't charismatic enough to support 300 pages of rooting for a psychopath, and so this story falls flat even when the climax finally, mercifully arrives.

The last story, The Running Man, is another mixed bag, a high-adrenaline story about a dystopian televised competition where one man is a fugitive and ordinary citizens are encouraged and rewarded for finding him and turning him in. Every hour he lives earns him money for his family, and when he is inevitably found he will be killed. King tries a little social commentary in this one about the haves and the have-nots and, strangely, environmentalism, but mostly this is a cinematic mix of The Fugitive and Blade Runner.

As you probably gathered, I wasn't overly impressed with The Bachman Books, and I can see why King submitted these offerings (some of which were actually written, though not published, before he hit it big with Carrie) pseudonymously. For hard-core King fans, you'll need to get to these eventually, but with the exception of The Long Walk, prepare yourself for lesser material.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by Jane Austen

When I was a young reader, I was guilty of classifying books according to two categories: boy books and girl books. Boy books included The Hardy Boys series, Hatchet, Treasure Island, and basically any sci-fi/fantasy book. Basically, if the plot revolved around adventure and featured a male protagonist, I was game. Girl books, which often emphasized love stories and featured female protagonists, included titles like Little Women, Little House on the Prairie, and the Nancy Drew books. And, to bring us to this review, anything by Jane Austen.

As I resolve to read classic literature on my own time, it seems important that I rectify the sins of my youth and devote some attention to the "girl books" that I previously ignored. Half Price Books helped me out with a boxed set of all of Jane Austen's novels in hardback for $25, a steal by any measure. And this month, I decided to break the seal with Austen's most beloved novel, Pride and Prejudice.

The book begins with a brilliant first line that perfectly captures both the tone and plot to follow: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." With that lead-in, Austen sets the stage for a Victorian novel filled with gossip, etiquette, and, ultimately, love.

The primary love story is that of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, a will-they, won't-they romance that predated Julia Roberts rom-coms by 150 years. Around the edges, you also deal with the love lives of Elizabeth's sisters, Jane, Lydia, Mary, and Catherine, as everybody seeks husbands who will both provide for them and care for them.

Austen's flowery, veeeeeery British writing takes a minute to get used to for a 2024 reader, but once you do, what's most striking is how funny she is. Characters like Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Collins serve as parodies of high society, and Austen ably mocks them while also speaking their language. The Victorian writing style, which I usually find tedious, sings with Austen at the helm. My only word of caution: if plot is your thing, this book is going to feel very long to you. Things happen, make no mistake, but the point of this novel is its characters—this is a novel built on a foundation of conversations, not plot progressions.

I really enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, a readable, light, amusing story that really does feel like a romantic comedy. On to the next girl book!

THE BRIEF AND FRIGHTENING REIGN OF PHIL by George Saunders

You can't go wrong with George Saunders, one of America's greatest living writers, and this Animal Farm-like fable is no exception. It tells the story of the border clash between the creatures of Outer Horner and Inner Horner and the rise of a strong man, the bitter but clever Phil. Told in Saunders' inimitable style, the story is at turns hilarious, strange, and prescient.

Published in 2005, the story's universal message about the danger of "othering" people and of giving too much power to one person is so relevant today that I checked the publishing date midway through to see if Saunders had been intentionally making a statement about politics today. And while it may not have been a response to our present moment, it certainly speaks to it.

At 130 pages, you can can read this novella in one or two sittings, and its "once upon a time" cadence and Saunders' humor makes what is ostensibly a dark tale into a cozy read. A great place to start for anyone interested in this writer!

WHAT IF? THE ORIGINAL MARVEL SERIES OMNIBUS VOL. 1

By 1977, Marvel Comics had developed a sprawling universe held together by its house style, colorful characters, and strict continuity. That last piece, the idea that every story was part of a grand tapestry, was one of the key things that set Marvel apart from competitor DC, where individual titles and issues largely didn't affect one another. Marvel had 16 years of interconnected lore to build upon in 1977, countless stories which were now considered "classics" by fans.

So writer and editor Roy Thomas, who had cultivated a reputation as a sticker for maintaining consistency in continuity, proposed a series where writers could fiddle with that continuity, changing Marvel's biggest moments for an issue and seeing where the story went as a result. What If...? was born.

With stories asking questions like "what if Rick Jones was the Hulk instead of Bruce Banner," "what if Sue Storm had married the Sub-Mariner," and "what if Conan the Barbarian walked the earth today," each issue, narrated by the Watcher, took place on an alternate earth where these changes really did occur (largely to differentiate these hypothetical tales from DC's popular-but-derided-by-Marvelites "imaginary stories.") The result is, as you might expect, a toss-up, largely dependent on who was writing that issue, how compelling the hypothetical was, and how zany they let the story get.

As a general rule, the stories are too long—the issues are double-sized, so stories run 35 pages plus a letters column—and the art is mediocre. Nevertheless, there is something fun about seeing the rules broken and the Marvel universe turned upside down issue after issue. Highlights include the aforementioned Conan story and a tale where Doctor Strange became a disciple of Dormammu. Next month I'll read the second volume of this collection, which concludes What If...?'s original 47-issue run, and we'll see what other alternate stories remain to be told.