as a longtime fan, it’s hard to critique this book objectively because the movie adaptation is so iconically well-made. whereas Red Dragon focused mostly on its villain and not enough on Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs is the exact opposite. it spends most of its time exploring Lecter’s infatuation with Starling, that it leaves no room for Buffalo Bill’s identity to evolve past just a maniacal “trans” person.
yes i know the title of this book is Red Dragon but the people yearn for more of Dr. Hannibal Lecter! as a fan of the show, i have never doubted the talent on screen but boy did Hugh Dancy do his big one as Will Graham. where Graham falls flat, Francis Dolarhyde stands with his wings spread ready to take over.
much like Harry and Voldemort, Order of the Phoenix and Goblet of Fire are tied by fate and cannot exist without the other.
the grief and the anger present throughout every thought and conversation becomes so suffocating it’s as if i’m the one experiencing every new rise of emotion.
the criticism this particular part of the series receives is one i will not partake in because i too was once 15 and angry. were you?
“If his surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside him, the pictures would have been screaming in pain.”
*though if i could offer some criticism it would be this: we did not get enough of Sirius and there was no benefit to his death coming so soon after his introduction.
at last, the beast has been conquered! i can’t believe that some years ago, i somehow managed to read this within a span of one week. crazy! there’s a reason why It is hailed as one of Stephen King’s best. his insanely detailed exposition and exploration of each character’s individual lives and their relationships with one another is something unlike anything i’ve seen in other written works. perhaps to a fault, as i think we could’ve done without so much information (sorry King.) as much as it’s praised though, i think there is A LOT of room for valid criticism. whether you chalk it up to the era in which it was written (or in which the story takes place) or his drug-addled mind, the language (aka the slurs, of which there are multiple), incessant sexual innuendos and sexual scenarios (chapter 22 i'm looking at you), and others... take up so much of the story it almost ruins it. if half of the time dedicated to fleshing out background characters like Patrick Hockstetter was instead used to dive into the clown known as Pennywise, you'd have a terrifyingly better 1000-page (or 45 hour) story on your hands.
i know it’s been said countless times already but it’s true, this is the turning point in the series. from beginning to end, the buildup is fantastic and the characters finally feel like they’re fully embracing their true personas. i’ve re-read this more than once now and i find myself crying every single time because for once, i wish i didn’t have to experience everything through the eyes of a 14-year old boy.
i can’t believe i once considered this to be my favorite book of all time. sure, it’s iconic and, unfortunately, relevant to our reality as the years go by, but the story is as two-dimensional as its main character (i mean, the guy’s name is literally Guy… how much more boring can he get?) the world-building is close to nonexistent and by the end of it, there are only two things i know to be certain:
1. firefighters burn books because they’re illegal 2. firefighters get cool mechanical dogs
Ray Bradbury, stick to short stories or you’ll end up lost in your narrative.
reading this book, or rather listening to the audiobook (which i highly recommend), transported me back to my high school days, where i first experienced the joy of discovering the author best known as Stephen King. in those days, whenever someone asked me who my favorite author was, i always said the same thing: Stephen King, of course. for a while i thought my own increasingly concerning interest in the macabre was influencing me in a way that wouldn’t allow any unbiased judgement, boy was i wrong. there is so much of himself poured into this book you can’t help but feel like you’re just two old pals having a conversation, maybe out somewhere in rural Maine like two characters out of his own novel. he manages to skillfully interweave his life and his writing because writing IS his life, and he’s real damn good at it. whether you’re a fan or not, a writer or just a reader, i highly recommend you pick this one up and get to know him a little better. who knows, you might earn the title of Constant Reader.
the first time i read this was about 7 or 8 years ago, but it wasn’t until now that i realized it’s all one big allegory for war. King’s (or should i say Bachman’s) writing truly shines here because, like he mentions in his preface, he allows himself to write unhindered by what is to be expected of him. a story so gruesome, raw, and grotesque, that you’ll have no choice but to carry it with you as you take on The Long Walk.
i genuinely genuinely love this book. i think more than the book though, i realized how much i love King's writing. his ability to interweave the essence of teenage love and friendships with the absurdity of a murderously good-looking car is something only the king of horror could get away with. so otherworldly, it almost feels like it might be taking itself too seriously. but who cares! it’s Christine baby, and she’s bad to the bone.
i’m torn on how to review this. on the one hand, i think it was very well-written, especially considering the genre’s poor reputation (i’m looking at u booktok.) on the other hand, i feel no particular connection to the characters or the story itself. i needed more. more pining, more groveling, more pathetic displays of desperation!!!! everything happened way too fast and yet it felt like nothing was happening at all.