Book Review: Stephen King, Revival

“This is how we bring about our own damnation, you know – by ignoring the voice that begs us to stop. To stop while there’s still time.”

This book will haunt me for DAYS if not for the rest of my life…. lurking in the background…. what if…. something happened…. Another masterpiece by, in my humble opinion, today’s greatest living horror writer. From the opening pages where King honors “some of the people who built my house” to the excruciating climax in, where else, Chapter 13, King’s clever wit and brilliant storytelling shines on every page of this electrical novel. I had a lot of fun reading this with Wanda, collecting clues scattered by King one by one, helpless to stop, like Hansel and Gretel on their trail to the witch’s cottage, or… like ants, gathering their crumbs, carrying their source of life as well as their dead upon their backs as they march single file into the underground.

Revival follows Jamie Morton through his childhood in Maine and into adulthood in Colorado (SPOILER ALERT: Ned! I actually squealed when my beloved former mountain town popped up in the narrative and woke up everyone sleeping in the house). Jamie and his shadow, the good natured though odd “Rev” Charles Jacobs, who Jamie becomes connected to in Maine after a terrible accident and a terrible sermon, and stays connected to after a chance (or was it fate?) encounter at a tent revival in the mid-West. As Jamie will find out, the Rev’s generosity doesn’t come without cost, as he plunges into a mad world in order to save some small part of his past.

“I think that gratitude for life, whatever the cause, indicates that one has managed to hold onto the core of one’s sanity.”

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