Book Review: 'Later' by Stephen King
With “Later”, the prolific writer and pop culture icon treads on familiar ground, this time with mixed results.
Behind the murdering clowns, lost corpses, and sadistic scientists, many of Stephen King’s classics zero in on the universality of lost innocence: the transition we undergo from child to adult, when our protective bubble of blissful ignorance disappears and the harsh realities of the outside world come creeping in. In “It”, a band of misfits known as the 'Losers’ Club' fall victim to the malevolence of Pennywise, who robs the children of their sanity and, with it, their youth. In “The Body”, a group of younglings trek through Maine looking for a dead body while discovering the challenges of growing older. And in “The Institute”, an abducted team of supernatural outcasts comes to grips with a future in which the safety blanket of their parents’ guidance no longer exists. While King has clearly mastered the art of creating terrifying villains, his ability to capture the fragility of childhood innocence is just as impressive.
“Later”, King’s most recent release, follows a similar path to the one paved by its predecessors. Despite not being set in Maine (a familiar setting in many of his works), the novel plays on King’s famed penchant for portraying social outcasts, forced to grapple with whatever it is that makes them different. In “Later”, the protagonist Jamie Conklin is burdened with a unique ability which sets him apart from those around him: he can see and communicate with dead people. How and why he sees dead people is unclear, though Jamie understands that his ability comes with two conditions: after a couple of hours, the deceased start to fade away, but during their time on Earth they are obliged to tell him the truth. Initially, Jamie’s encounters with the departed are harmless; his dead neighbour pokes fun at his artistic abilities while cracking jokes about the fidelity of the living. But when his hidden power is discovered by his mother’s old lover, Liz - a wayward police officer who hides a secret of her own - Jamie’s unorthodox talent becomes less of a gift and more of a curse. With Liz’s job on the line, her link to Jamie is the last chance to salvage her career, which she believes could be rectified by solving the mystery of a recently-deceased serial bomber, referred to informally as 'Thumper'. Knowing that the deceased have no choice but to tell the truth, Liz coerces Jamie into speaking with the dead killer in order to locate the lost bomb he planted before taking his life. When Jamie complies, a Pandora’s box of trouble is unleashed - one that looks set to stay open forever.
Marketed as a crime novel, “Later” works through a checklist of the genre’s most distinguishable staples: violent murders, corrupt mobsters, and seedy drug trades are front and centre in this novel. But - as Jamie reminds the reader - “Later” is a horror story brimming with King’s sinister imagination. Whether it’s the descriptions of occult traditions or the harrowing images of the deceased walking freely amongst the streets of New York, “Later” rarely deviates from King’s signature proclivity for the macabre.
Yet, while “Later” does feature some dark moments, the novel’s tone falls on the lighter side, thanks in large part to Jamie’s narration. His brutal honesty and directness is charming, as are his youthful observations on the rigidity of adult thinking: “grownups have a tough time believing”, Jamie claims. Moments of levity are also found in Jamie’s relationship with his mother, Tia, a literary agent and single mother who remains foul-mouthed, despite herself. With take-outs and empty wine bottles littered around their apartment, Jamie and Tia’s dynamic feels less like a mother-son relationship and more like two close friends navigating the complexities of adult life together. For all of her bad habits, Tia’s unyielding devotion to protecting her only child is striking and provides a glimmer of hope in a story otherwise weighed down by the direness of Jamie’s situation. King’s writing has always been subject to controversy, not least his occasional one-dimensional and hyper-sexualised depiction of women. Here, though, the author creates a nuanced and deeply sympathetic portrayal of a young woman tasked not only with the responsibility of raising a child as a single parent, but also with supporting an ailing brother and a sinking business.
Where the first two-thirds of the novel play out like a coming-of-age story, the third act sees the author reaching for a crime-filled adrenaline rush. Amongst the drug busts and tense encounters, Jamie’s emotional arc ultimately feels subsidiary to the flurry of chaos that takes place during the final act, which tries to squeeze in new characters and plots without tying up the loose ends of the novel’s chief narrative. King offers a genuinely shocking, but ultimately unsatisfying twist which can only be described as deeply uncomfortable. While it does answer one of the questions central to Jamie’s story, it leaves little room for further reflection and proves insignificant in relation to the novel’s scope. Whether King intends to expand “Later” into a series is unknown, but one can’t help thinking whether the novel’s ending could lead to anything as interesting as its opening and middle acts.
Sixty-two books into his illustrious career, it’s difficult to criticise King for repeating a formula sewn into the fabric of his previous works, especially when that formula has proven so successful. While “Later” does feature a host of familiar tropes: a young kid, burdened with a secret power and a difficult home life, King manages to suffuse the novel with a breath of fresh air, particularly with his depiction of women and his inventive blend of crime and fantasy which - for the most part - works well. At the core of “Later” is King’s understanding that part of what makes growing up so difficult is the isolation we experience in dealing with newfound feelings of confusion and uncertainty. For Jamie, his suffering is invisible to the outside world despite the attempts of those around him who desperately try to understand his predicament. Capturing the delicate moments when childhood innocence drifts away and is replaced by a jaded awareness of the hardship of the real world, “Later” is further proof that King’s understanding of the nuances of youth is unmatched.