Full Dark No Stars is a perfect title for these four stories, each more haunting than the last. King has written the major difference between the Bachman books and his own is in the King books the good guys ultimately win. These stories embody Bachman in the sense they are by far some of his darkest creations.
I usually read before bed, but these stories kept me awake if I did that. If I read them during the evening hours it wasn’t by the dim light of a book light but rather every light in the room on because each story is dark, each story creates its own battle, leaves its own scars-not only on the characters but on the reader.
The jacket on the book said the third story was the most disturbing, I wasn’t sure of that until I’d finished it and thought about it in retrospect.
In 1922 I was reminded of The Yellow WallPaper which is one of my favorite early American short stories. It was a tale of madness, a haunting, and maybe even truth. I felt the same way about 1922. How much do we trust our narrator? Is he crazy? Is he sane? And while I felt so sympathy for him I couldn’t put the story down. Because by the end of it, wouldn’t you have done the same thing?
In Big Driver I don’t hesitate to identify with our main character because she is clearly the victim. But, has this monster inside of her always existed lurking beneath the surface or was it created by the devastating event. Each step of the way I question her sanity a little more.
The final story puts to question what would happen if the wife of a serial killer actually knew what her husband was up too. It gave me chills. How would you ever sleep again knowing the person you loved and trusted most in the world was doing unspeakable things to women and even one child when they weren’t home? It truly makes you wonder how well you can know anyone.
In all four stories we are forced to question ourselves. Would we react the way the character did? Would we find ourselves alone in the dark with someone we no longer know or trust? How can you condemn any of them? How can you blame them? How can you not be disgusted? How can you not in your own way be changed?
