Stephen King's Just After Sunset

title: Just After Sunset
author: Stephen King
genre: short fiction
published: December 2008 (hardcover)
source: Franklin Grove Library
first line: "You don't see what's right in front of your eyes, she'd said, but sometimes he did."
rating: 4/5 stars


I can't even remember how old I was when I first read Stephen King. I know that in 8th grade I was already reading Christine, Insomnia, and Salem's Lot, but I'm pretty sure I attempted Tommyknockers back in pre-pubescence, never completing it, though whether my reason was fear of the contents or intimidation of its size is now lost to the ages. 


Regardless, I'll admit it--long time fan. Most people with graduate degrees in literature would never say this aloud. It's tempting for me to be self-indulgent and say, "Well, that's because I'm not a book snob and never have been," but that's not quite right. I AM snobby about books. I can't stand to read drivel, sap, or sloppiness anymore. Almost twelve years of studying the world's great literature at universities has heightened my standards to the point that for me, there is no guilty pleasure when I'm reading. If it's pleasurable, I don't feel guilty. If it's something I'm apt to feel guilty for reading, it's not pleasurable. It's like someone who's been off dairy for years and tries to eat a vanilla ice cream. I'd have to choke it down, it'd be liable to make me puke, and I certainly wouldn't enjoy it.


The thing with Stephen King is that he's not just a horror-genre hack. He's really talented. He may not be the next Proust, Dickens, or James, but he's also no Dean Koontz or James Patterson. I really don't think I have to defend this position too vigorously. King has started to earn a toehold in literary circles, partly for his 2000 memoir On Writing. In 2007, he was named editor of the prestigious "Best American Short Stories" series, cementing his position as Respected American Writer (totally different, as King himself will tell you, from Commercially Successful American Writer). It is in the short story that King truly shines. Heidi Pitlor, series editor of the "Best American Short Stories" series, did well to choose King. His novels have always terrified and captivated me, but his short fiction is, in short, dazzling. I think I've read about every one of his collections, Skeleton Crew most notably (my volume is losing its cover and is highlighted into oblivion). King's short stories range from comic to wistful to grotesque to horrifying to downright beautiful. If you're looking for a starting place, pick up Skeleton Crew and read "Mrs. Todd's Shortcut" and you'll see what I mean.


King's new collection, Just After Sunset, is most of these things. Notably absent is the "horrifying" story. Nothing chilling here, except for a few brain-burning images from "Willa," the opening tale. There is more beauty and sadness than anything else. King, as a writer, is showing his age. Mostly, that phrase means starting to fail at which you once succeeded. I mean literally. The tales are mostly about older adults with grown children, losing spouses, moving to Florida, facing their own deaths, and coming to terms with the afterlife. Which isn't to say that these stories are staid, boring, or flaccid. King writes with a humanity and a fearlessness that's both touching and disconcerting. 


"Willa," "Harvey's Dream," "The Things They Left Behind," "The New York Times at Special Bargain Rates," and "Ayana" are all tales that deal with what worlds lay beyond ours, and what happens when those worlds intersect. 


"The Gingerbread Girl," "Stationary Bike," and "A Very Tight Place," as well as all the stories listed above, feature a protagonist dealing with the loss of a loved one.


"N.," one of the most characteristically "scary" King stories, is more disheartening than anything. (At the end of the story, it's clear that the story goes on, and no good can come of it.) 


"Graduation Afternoon," one of the shorter stories, is more of a sketch, and is one of the two stories in the volume that King admits to "transcribing" from a dream or vision instead of intentionally creating (the other is "Harvey's Dream," also sketch-like). 


The best story in this collection, hands-down, is "The Things They Left Behind." It's part of a growing canon of post-9/11 literature, and it made me weep. It's haunting and beautiful and sad and not a little bit scary. 


All the stories in this volume held my imagination and attention. I became captive to each one in its turn. They stayed with me after I read them. If they didn't horrify me, that's all right--I'm past the stage where I'm looking for fear. Motherhood is full of fear every day. If you want more traditional, scare-you-in-the-dark King, grab an earlier volume. If you want captivating, beautiful, wistful, disconcerting tales, look no further.