IT (1986): The Alpha, The Omega And The Monster Mash
It issimultaneously the most famous and most infamous of Stephen King's formidablebibliography. Until the unexpurgated version of The Stand was released a few years later, it was the lengthiest ofKing's novels. When you read it, you get the sense this is the work of a manwho saw all the criticism stacking up against his work - it's too populist, toodivorced from good taste, too influenced by schlock culture, too lengthy, etc.- and decided to double down. It's also the book with "that scene" (moreon that momentarily). If you're doing a survey of his work, this is a book you mustread. Whatever you think afterwards,you'll have to acknowledge that few mainstream authors are willing to let itrip the way King does here.
Itoffers the reader dual timelines. In 1958, a group of misfit kids in the smalltown of Derry, Maine are trying to get through another summer. There's Bill,the stuttering but charismatic natural leader of the group haunted by thesudden, violent death of his younger brother. There's also the heavyset Ben,hypochondriac Eddie, big mouthed jokester Richie, token girl and abuse victim Beverlyand farm kid (and African-American) Mike. They form friendships as they dodge agang of bullies led by the psychopathic Henry Bowers.
However, there's a bigger evil to be dealt with: anundefinable evil that has haunted the town for generations. It usually takesthe form of Pennywise the clown but can take on any shape its opponent fears,popping up every 27 years for feeding cycles that usually target children. Before the summer is over, the kids - who dubthemselves the Losers' Club - will have to do battle with the monster.
They also make a promise to each other that they willreunite to fight the beast again if it is necessary. In the second timeline of1985, the reader sees that reunion unfold as the now-adult protagonists regaintheir memories of what happened during a childhood summer that was bothdreadful and magical. As they prepare for another battle, one that must be won permanentlyor else, they come to terms with who they were, who they've become, all they'veleft behind and the complexities of childhood and memory. Surrounding these dual timelines areadditional sections on the town's tormented, evil-studded history from theadult Mike, now a history-minded librarian.
If all of that sounds like a lot to chew on, restassured It delivers on all themonolithic potential that the synopsissuggests. Over a sprawl of 1153 pages,King delivers an narrative that is indefatigably epic in its portrayal ofsupernatural evil yet also oddly intimate in tone.
On the horror tip, one gets the feeling that King threwin every beast and horrific setting that tickled his macabre fancies during thefour years it took him to write the book: the titular beast from I Was A Teenage Werewolf appears inthese pages as well as a giant eyeball, a haunted house, flying leeches, amonolithic sewer system, a leprosy-addled hobo, the witch from "Hansel& Gretel," teenage hoodlum zombies, you name it. Alongside the fictional horrors, Kingintersperses a number of real-life horrors: gay bashing, serial murder, childabuse (both physical and psychological), bullying and more.
The intimate tone comes into play with how King deliversdeep, detailed portraits of his protagonists as children and adults. You spenda lot of time with them, often individually, in their kid guises and King usesthis time to build empathy and attachment in the reader. Some say he portraysthe kids as too perfect/noble but that makes sense as the book draws to a close,in which King goes off on a "child is father to the man" tangent andreflects on how the human sense of potential and imagination are at theirrespective peaks during that time.
However, the expanse of material requires an investmentof time and this is often the sticking point with It for a key segment of readers. Simply put, if your gripe aboutKing's work has anything to do with page-length or self-indulgence, you mightas well pass this one by. It is positively deep-dish on both thelength and self-indulgence fronts, with King going off on wild tangents inplotting, verbiage, portrayal of psychological and visceral terrors, etc. The result is maddening at times but you haveto plunge headlong into the novel's depths to unearth its rewards. The two areindivisible.
It has another big sticking point for readers, particularly the modern kind, in a moment best referred to as "that scene." Without getting too heavily into spoilers, there's a scene near the end of the book where the heroes are in a moment of peril and Beverly decides to make an unusual and unexpected sacrifice to bond them all together. This moment has been accused of perversion, sexism and more over the years - and yet, in the context of the book and what it has to say about childhood, it oddly makes sense. Every reader will have to make their own decision on this - those interested in pondering it are best directed to an excellent essay on It by Grady Hendrix that tackles the complexities of this controversial scene in detail.
If you are willing to hang in there until the end of thebook, King brings his epic sprawl of a novel home with a coda that isunexpectedly moving. Whatever his excesses, he is ultimately a humanist andthat shines through in the last twenty pages on the book as he finds an elegantway to deal with the passage from childhood to adulthood, why it is necessaryto leave the former for the latter and how it is not the death ofinnocence/magic that some perceive it as but a way to grow and access new formsof happiness.
In short, Itgives you the full Stephen King experience between one set of covers. Thisnovel's pages offers the reader transgression and humanity in equal measure,dishing out its storyline with breathless ambition and all manner of oddballdigressions as it searches for that balance between topping itself and stayingtrue to its vision of good and evil. It's the alpha and the omega of King's career, doing the monster mashall the way across your mind's eye as it sings "a-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-wop-bam-boom."