Doctor Sleep

Thirty five years after a possessed hotel drove his alcoholic father to nearly kill him in a psychotic rage, Dan Torrance is himself a recovering alcoholic who makes penance as a hospice worker. His psychic powers, which he turned to drink to suppress, are awakened by twelve-year-old Abra Stone, a twelve-year-old girl with powers even greater than his own. As Dan and Abra strike up a telepathic friendship, they become aware of the True Knot, a cult of traveling immortality-seeking pseudo-vampires who kill psychic children to absorb their “steam” and prolong their lives. After Abra “sees” on of their murders, she and Dan must stop the Knot before she becomes the next victim.

Be it the book or the Stanley Kubrick film adaptation, The Shining is synonymous with iconic modern horror. In this long-awaited sequel, Stephen King manages to maintain a strong continuity with the original while simultaneously taking the style, setting, characterization, and conflict in very different directions. Though these departures will disappoint those hoping for more of the same, they make Doctor Sleep a compelling read it its own right.

One major source of The Shining’s trauma was its setting: the haunted, mountainous, snowbound Overlook Hotel. In Doctor Sleep, the Overlook is long since destroyed, but its malevolent specter lingers as a reminder. Much of the action instead takes place in King’s preferred milieu: small-town New England. While this seems at first like a letdown, it actually introduces a different wrinkle of tension – the idea that evil may lurk in the most mundane locales (small towns, RV camps, etc.).

Speaking of evil, King has taken a new approach to conflict as well. In the past, his supernatural antagonists embodied malice for malice’s sake. But here, we are allowed to see the True Knot in a somewhat more sympathetic light. The cultists grieve for one another and experience fear and pain. Conversely, Abra, the nominal deuteragonist, is possessed of a sadistic streak that is chillingly wide. These complexities don’t render the conflict “softer” or really all that ambiguous (a child-abducting vampire cult is still a child-abducting vampire cult), but they do represent a refreshing change-of-pace from the stale black-and-white morality that permeated many of King’s prior works.

Despite the appeal of these supporting characters, the novel is at its strongest when it focuses on Dan. In contrast to his child self, the adult Dan Torrance is a tragic figure, and his descent toward rock bottom and attempt to pull himself back up form the novel’s emotional center. He may have psychic gifts, but he is otherwise plagued by the same doubts and regrets as many of us.

Though it may mark a return to form (of sorts), Doctor Sleep is still far from King’s best work. For as fun as it is to read, there are plenty of chinks in the armor. Like much of his latter-day writing, King’s prose is workmanlike and occasionally slack. A major twist comes across as plausible, but a little too convenient. And while the predictability of the ending can be forgiven, the tidiness with which it is executed is a disappointment. A younger, bolder King would have inflicted more tragedy before wrapping things up.

All told, for a sequel 35 years in the making, Doctor Sleep acquits itself as well as can be expected. It does not top – or even equal – its predecessor, but then again, it isn’t really trying to. Take it as its own tale, and you will find a lot to like.

8.25/10