by George Beahm
The psychological hold that Wilkes exerts over Paul Sheldon, even after he’s rid of her, is so tenacious that, as Tabitha King pointed out in her article for Castle Rock, he “has not freed himself of Annie Wilkes; she holds him captive still, emotionally and creatively.”
The monsters, Stephen King tells us, are real and they are us, an idea that forms the basis of Misery’s exploration of horror. It’s a familiar theme for King, who wrote about it extensively in his foreword to Night Shift. Michael Collings explicated King’s theme of human monsters in the Stephen King Companion (1995):
In both novel and film, audiences realize with shudders of horror that the character King has created and Bates has portrayed is a human monster. But in a larger sense, she is terrifyingly realistic, in ways that King’s earlier vampires or werewolves or shape shifters cannot be. Monstrous as she is, Annie Wilkes merely reflects similar monsters that really exist out there. After reading a novel like ’Salem’s Lot or The Shining or Pet Sematary, one can look out the window and breathe a sign of relief that, difficult as the real world might be, King’s fictive world is worse. But with Misery, audiences inured to the never-ending horrors of the six o’clock news might feel almost the opposite sense: for once, Stephen King has made no attempt to move beyond the darkest possibilities of the world in which we live.
“Happiness Is a Warm Gun”
I think it’s unhealthy for people to live vicariously through others. John Belushi and Elvis Presley were truly victims of their fame—and hence their fans—because a weak character has no defense against sycophancy.… Mark Chapman’s assassination of John Lennon was the result of celebrity worship in a country where the mentally unbalanced have a de facto right to both lethal weapons and access to famous people. Chapman, by his own admission, was out to kill someone famous; it did not matter to him whether it was John Lennon, or Paul Simon, or Steve [King]—all to whom he made personal approaches. Murder is the ultimate fan possession of the idol. It will happen again, given the American refusal to stop the epidemic of gun murder and the media-enforced insistence that a public person is public property.
—Tabitha King, “Co-miser-a-ting with Stephen King,” Castle Rock, August 1987
FANS, CELEBRITY, AND CRAZY STUFF
As Stephen King told Michael Kilgore of the Tampa Tribune, “The occupational hazard of the successful writer in America is that once you begin to be successful, then you have to avoid being gobbled up. America has developed this sort of cannibalistic cult of celebrity, where first you set the guy up, and then you eat him.”
Misery is dedicated to King’s sister-in-law, Stephanie Leonard, and her husband, Jim, “who know why. Boy, do they.” Both have witnessed year-round the behavior of King’s fans, the more ardent having made pilgrimages to Bangor to see where their favorite author lives.
On four occasions over the years, the Kings have seen the uglier side of fame, from men who clearly live in the world of the weird. One such incident occurred in 2003 when a man drove up to Tabitha King, who was walking her dog, and told her, “I see you just came from the King residence. I need to see him. This is concerning national security.” According to the Bangor Daily News:
Tabitha King told police she saw the same man in the same car parked in their driveway around noon Sunday. She told her husband, who went outside and asked [him] what he wanted, according to the report. [He] asked to come inside the house to talk with King. The author refused and told him that if he did not leave, King would call the police.
Stephen King told police he was fearful of this man, “so much so that when he came back into the house he went upstairs and loaded his handgun,” wrote Officer Butch Moor.
As Tabitha King explained to Castle Rock, “The public is frequently possessive and unforgiving, without seeming to understand that what they are attempting to exercise is a kind of emotional slavery. Money and fame attract the self-seeking, who are willing to do anything … even if it hurts or kills you.”
55
MAKING WHOOPEE
STEPHEN KING’S “GIFT OF GOTTA”
Kathy Bates introduces Stephen King at a fund-raiser, “Harry, Carrie, and Garp” at Radio City Music Hall in NYC (August 2006).
Radio City Music Hall has, over its sixty-year history, hosted some of the biggest names in show business. Best known for its Rockettes and its annual Christmas show, Radio City Music Hall is a haven for brand-name singers and a heaven for fans, because in terms of its views and acoustics, as its Web site states, “every seat in Radio City Music Hall is a good seat.”
On August 1, 2006, at 7:30 P.M., Radio City Music Hall hosted some of the biggest names in entertainment—comedian and film star Whoopi Goldberg, actress Kathy Bates, TV star Andre Braugher, comedian and TV star Jon Stewart, and reporter Soledad O’ Brien. These entertainers, however, did not showcase themselves and their talents; instead, they introduced and set the stage for three writers, who read from their works: in order of appearance, Stephen King, John Irving, and J. K. Rowling.
It’s a half hour before the show is scheduled to start, and after a six-block walk from my hotel to Radio City Music Hall, I’m tired and hot, and it’s no wonder: New York City is in a heat wave, with temperatures hovering near 100 degrees. Everyone is sweating profusely, seeking refuge in air-conditioned retail stores, coffee shops, and any other place that can provide relief from the oppressive heat. Concerned about power outages, New York City’s mayor has asked residents to conserve, to turn up their thermostats (yeah, right), as the city officials dim the lights at public attractions like the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. After a prolonged power outage in Queens, the mayor isn’t taking any chances.
In the back of my mind, I’m wondering if the power grid will hold this evening. Broadway is lit up to the max—the show, after all, must go on—and store owners, in an effort to entice customers, have left front doors wide open, as air conditioners push themselves to their cooling limits.
Muggles—nonmagical folk in Rowling lingo—rush around the streets of the city, and I wonder how many of them knew that three of the most famous and most successful authors of our time are in their midst, preparing to read tonight to an audience of six thousand fans, some of whom had traveled from Europe to attend the event.
I expected a long line at Radio City Music Hall, but the length of the actual line surprises me. It stretches down only one city block and doubles back on itself. Even though it’s early evening, it’s unspeakably hot, muggy, and very uncomfortable. But the weather isn’t foremost on the minds of those standing patiently in line as it snakes around metal stalls where security guards check bags, purses, and backpacks for contraband: cameras and recording devices.
I immediately think that, no matter how hard security screens the seemingly never-ending line of people, the die-hard fans are not going to leave without a memento: if nothing else, a photograph or possibly an audio recording. They will want, and get, a tangible souvenir from tonight’s event.
Additionally, some people—mostly younger readers—have brought books that they hope to get signed. The opportunity is unlikely, but just in case.…
After a twenty-minute wait, I make my way from the end of the line through the ticket and security checkpoints and gratefully walk inside, where the air-conditioning is cranked up to the max. With a full house of six thousand people, the air-conditioning needs to be functioning at full capacity.
As I head upstairs, I worry that my balcony ticket, with a face value of a hundred dollars, is not going to afford the best view, which turns out to be a groundless concern. Located in the center section on the first mezzanine, I can see the stage clearly. Unlike a sports stadium where columns often obscure views of the playing field, Radio City Music Hall has no columns to obstruct a view of the stage.
I had expected a sell-out crowd and wall-to-wall people, but entire seat sections are empty. Were these tickets still available, or did people simply not show up?
It was clear, too, that
most of the audience was composed of young adults. This isn’t a literary crowd—in other words, not a John Irving crowd—and, given the lack of older readers in their thirties and forties, it clearly isn’t a Stephen King crowd, either. It is obviously a J. K. Rowling crowd: The number of teenage girls present rivals that of a concert for a boy band.
At 7:35, the lights dim and, to introduce all three writers, a short film montage plays to the accompaniment of rock and roll music.
On four oversized backlit screens, we get a quick visual and audio overview of the careers of King, Irving, and Rowling, who, collectively, have sold over 400 million copies of their books worldwide, in dozens of languages.
In the book industry, this kind of celebration is as big as it gets. In a world-class city on a world-class stage with thousands of fans paying rapt attention, it’s a world apart from the one that these writers inhabit when they work and produce the stuff of nightmares … and dreams: a small room in which the writer sits alone, dreaming, imagining, creating something out of nothing. It’s what a writer does most of the time—it’s the day job.
The clip plays and we see King walking through a forest. Rowling in an open, windswept field. Irving walking down a country road. Rowling amidst a large crowd of fans. A close-up of King in Durham, Maine; a black-and-white photo of him taken by his brother, Dave, showing a copy of Startling Mystery Stories propped up against the black platen of his manual Underwood typewriter, open to the page featuring his first pro sale, “The Glass Floor.” A young Irving looking up at a fan at a book signing. King laughing as he’s being strapped down in an electric chair on the set of The Green Mile, with director Frank Darabont looking on. Rowling at home, holding up Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Irving working out, punching, swaying, boxing. A close-up of Irving’s signature book, The World According to Garp. A close-up of King’s first published novel, Carrie, the book and movie that launched his career, like a fighter jet catapulted off an aircraft carrier. Rowling in her home office, holding a British edition of a Harry Potter novel. Irving casually dressed, seated in front of an IBM Selectric II typewriter, pecking away with two fingers. Rowling in an Edinburgh café, writing longhand, with a picture window in the background. King, wearing a Center Lovell sweatshirt, at his summer home, where he’s typing on a portable computer. Rowling standing up against a brick pillar as crowds of people rush past her, oblivious that a world-famous author is in their midst. From the first Harry Potter movie, actor Dan Radcliffe, in Quidditch uniform, looking skyward. A close-up of Kathy Bates in her most famous role as Annie Wilkes in King’s Misery. Tobey Maguire in a car from Irving’s The Cider House Rules. King walking down a country road in Center Lovell as he’s reading a book with his Welsh corgi walking by his side. Rowling coming on stage at the Royal Albert Hall in England. Quick shots of all three authors. John Irving boxing.
The lights come up and the audience bursts into applause and cheers as a casually dressed Whoopi Goldberg heads stage right to a podium fronted with a facade of upright books bearing tonight’s authors’ names: Stephen King, John Irving, and J. K. Rowling.
It was a night to remember.
Whoopi Goldberg introduces the audience to the three writers, explaining that “these three writers are forces of nature equal to or greater than any of the supernatural events you can find in any of their books. Listen, I have read every book by all three of these writers, and with a book your mind takes you on the adventure, and the writer shows you the path.”
After riffing on a plotline involving all three writers and their fictional universes, Whoopi gets serious and tells the collective crowd of six thousand that “this evening is really a tribute to you all. So put your paper-cut fingers and carpal-tunneled hands together and give yourselves a round of loving applause, because in this room are the best readers in the world. And if this evening proves nothing else, it does prove that what this evening really does is communicate to everyone that reading is alive and well. We proved that what happens when great books fall into the hands of great readers, we all want to talk about it.”
She then introduces actress Kathy Bates, who gives a surprisingly humorous introduction to Stephen King. As she explains, “It’s no wonder at all why I have been asked to introduce the first author. After all, I am his number one fan. I used to be the number two fan up until about fifteen years ago when a woman named Annie Wilkes came off the list and the top spot opened up. I’m very proud to own that title and I’m very proud to have my name so closely associated with his. And I hope that all Stephen King fans will forgive me for being morbid. But I already know that no matter what happens to me in the rest of my life, one day the name Stephen King will appear in my obituary.”
She explains that she came to be chosen as the actress in the key role of Annie Wilkes in the film Misery after a friend read the novel and told her that “when they do the movie you ought to play Annie Wilkes.” Her response: “Yeah, that’ll happen in a million years.” But it happened because “Rob Reiner happened to be dating Elizabeth McGovern who just happened to be acting in a play with me. I was playing the part of a crazed fanatic, so I guess that gave Rob the idea to cast me as Annie,” a role that, when played by Bates, deservedly won her an Academy Award.
She closes her introduction with the reason why King’s fiction is so compelling: “But most of all, Stephen has the ‘gift of gotta.’ You know? I gotta turn the page. I gotta see what happens next. I know I gotta get up early tomorrow morning to go to work but I gotta keep reading this book.”
It is, as Bates knows, the reason why millions of readers worldwide eagerly look forward to his next book.
Harry, Carrie, and Garp:
Stephen King at the Press Conference
I feel like I’ve just been told the Beatles and the Stones are warming up for me.
—J. K. Rowling at the press conference, after both Stephen King and John Irving said that they were the “warm-up dance” for her
The morning before the first night’s reading, King, Rowling, and Irving sat for a press conference to share their thoughts on book publishing, reading, and the event itself. Below are some of the answers King gave in response to media queries.
How much money do you expect to raise for your respective charities?
I think we’re going to be able to raise at least $250,000 for each charity, which for three people who write books is a lot of money. When we set out to do this, we decided that we would do two nights: one to benefit the charity of my choice, Haven Foundation, to raise money for freelance artists who find themselves after catastrophic accidents and diseases with no resources for themselves, and one designed by Jo [Rowling], Doctors Without Borders; and she can talk very cogently about that.
As I say, all of this came out of the fact that last year I read for John’s charity, which was Maple Street School in Vermont, and he said he would read for me. And so while I read for a small school, I dragged him to Radio City Music Hall, and he came along!
What advice do you have for young people wanting to become writers?
You have to read, and you have to hold out hope, because as a young writer you have to remember that we will all die.
Fiction is often reflective of a particular community area. Is that true for you?
I think we all have a tendency to write about places that we know best. It’s where we feel most comfortable and grounded.
What are your thoughts on killing off your characters?
I don’t plan the books out very clearly.
There are writers who plan, and I think there are people who fire missiles the way that the United States fires missiles. I fire them the way Hezbollah fires missiles. I have a certain idea of where they’re going to land, but if they get within twelve miles one way or another, I’m happy.
I wrote a book called Cujo and it’s about a mother and a son trapped in a car by a rabid dog. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen at the end. I thought that the little boy would be ok
ay, but the little boy wasn’t okay, and that really shook me.
I had a book called Pet Sematary that disturbed me so much that I put it in a drawer. I ended up publishing it only because of a contractual issue.… Well, things happen. I felt like I had to publish the book, and I did, and with a lot of distress because I felt the audience would think, “Oh, this is the most dreadful thing,” but they loved it.
But the thing is, I’ve written other books where the strangest things happen. I wrote a book called The Dead Zone, which begins with a character named Greg Stillson. In the prologue, he kicks a dog to death. I wanted to establish this character as a real awful person in the beginning who covers it with this cheerful, smiling, happy, “Hey, I’m just a good ol’ fella” … and I got more letters asking “How can you do that to that dog?”
You write people back and you want to be nice to them, and you say, “I’m sorry you don’t like that.” I’m thinking to myself: number one, it was a dog, not a person; and number two, the dog wasn’t even real—I made that dog up. That was a fake dog, a fictional dog.
Do you have advice for Rowling as she comes to the end of her series?
Do I have any advice? I just want the story to be fair—that’s what I always want. I want to read the book. I love that series. I want to read the book, and I have total confidence because I read the other books. Man, I’m just up for it, that’s all.
Are you comfortable reading your own work onstage?
I don’t mind reading my own work. I know it best. That’s fine. The challenge is to find something that can hold a broad audience.
King reads “The Revenge of Lard Ass Hogan” at “Harry, Carrie, and Carp” at Radio City Music Hall in NYC (August 2006).
