My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Had a hard time finishing it. It it weren’t for our book club I would have put it down after reading the first few chapters. At first, I didn’t expect that there would be a supernatural element in the story. I think I would’ve enjoyed it better if there wasn’t. This was my first Stephen King novel and while I admire how detailed his storytelling is, sometimes I just can’t keep up. I find myself lost in some, if not most, of the references used in the book. But having said that, I know that this wouldn’t be my last King novel. The way he described those people dying of the super flu was really unsettling; it was very good and effective writing. Those chapters where it was getting close for the main characters to find their way to each other got me excited and gave me the extra push to finish the book.
When Stu faked his coughs while talking to Deitz. Deitz refrained from wearing the space-suit so he panicked when Stu suddenly displayed symptoms. Deitz was always withholding information from Stu so when Deitz asked him why he would pull something like that, Stu repeated Deitz words, “Sorry, that’s classified.” That was a cool move.
Glen Bateman’s superflu aftermath plan: Chill and paint. Then he said to Stu, “There is no one on earth painting better landscapes than Glendon Pequod Bateman, BA, MA, MFA. A cheap ego trip, but mine own.”
Movies after all, are only an illusion of motion comprised of thousands of still photographs. The imagination, however, moves with its own tidal flow. Films, even the best of them, freeze fiction.
That is not necessarily bad… but it is limiting. The glory of a good tale is that it is limitless and fluid.; a good tale belongs to each reader in its own particular way.
PETER: But you have to remember, Fran, she’s too old to change, but you are getting old enough to understand that.
Structure is a necessary thing.
GLEN: (On dreams) I have always believed they served a simple eliminatory function, and not much more — that dreams are the psyche’s way of taking a good dump every now and then.
But she suspected it was going to be held over by popular demand inside her head. (A more creative way of saying overthinking)
Well, for one thing, it might mean that all these people here were just an epilogue to the human race, a brief coda. (Tragic)
JUDGE: But you can only be one man. Isn’t that true?
JUDGE: And your choice is made?
JUDGE: For good?
LARRY: Yes, it is.
JUDGE: Then live with it.
There was a single final breath, the last of millions. (RIP Mother A)
(Tom’s chapter while spying in the West) They were nice enough people and all, but there wasn’t much love in them. Because they were too busy being afraid. Love didn’t grow very well in a place where there was only fear, just as plants didn’t grow very well in a place where it was always dark.
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