The Science of Stephen King

Sara Melendez: “I was impressed with two characters the most—Beverly in It and Rose in Rose Madder. Both were not addicts or mentally ill; however, they were victims of close family who had addictions and mental illness. Beverly had an abusive father who was sexually attracted to her, and had difficulty adjusting to her transition to womanhood. It would be safe to say he was a sexual addict as a father attracted to his own biological daughter and struggling to contain his impulses and therefore abusing her. Rose in Rose Madder had an abusive, alcoholic husband. What stood out to me the most in this book was that once she left her husband, started a new life, and found a new relationship that wasn’t abusive, she became abusive herself and acted out to her new significant other who wasn’t abusive at all. In my work with victims of domestic violence, I have found this to be true across the board, although no one really talks about it. Unless a victim of domestic violence works through their issues after they leave the relationship, they are very likely to act out violently toward their new partner, even if the new partner is not violent or abusive. It’s like they have all this internal rage. Mr. King touched on that, and it was the first time I’ve seen it in print, although I’ve witnessed it in working at domestic violence shelters and with victims of DV.”

Kelly: “I’ll have to re-read Rose Madder with that new perspective!”

Meg:“Aside from Stephen King, when you see or read fictional accounts of those with addiction or mental illness, do you feel they are depicted fairly? Have there been times you were disappointed with their portrayal?”

Sara Melendez: “Yes, very much so. Oftentimes the media will vilify a character and label them as bipolar or schizophrenic. They are portrayed as killers, or dangerous, or menaces to society. While there are of course people with either of these diagnoses who break the law, there are so many that are perfectly functional adults. Because I’ve worked in the trenches throughout my career with people who are bipolar or schizophrenic, I’ve found that they are amongst us at work, in the community, our neighbor, and sometimes our family. Most of the time as long as they take their medications, stay away from alcohol and drugs, and have support, they are not these crazed insane characters that the media portrays. In fact, those diagnosed with borderline personality disorder do far more damage to families and individuals than others more seemingly ‘dangerous’ diagnoses.”

Kelly:“What is your favorite Stephen King novel or story and why?”

Sara Melendez: “Hmm … so hard to narrow down, and there are so many! I think Carrie really captivated me because I was only a teen and a very sheltered one at that, raised in a dysfunctional household in a small town with a mom who didn’t have a grip on reality and a high degree of religiosity. I wished I had superpowers so I could escape. Carrie was my tortured superhero! That was the one story that resonated with me, in a strange way, I guess.”

Meg: “What a great example of how fiction can be such a healing and vital part of growing up!”

Thanks to Sara Melendez we were able to stand back and see Jack, Wendy, and Danny Torrance from her perspective as a crisis counselor. This is a testament to the true humanity, whether sweet or depraved, that Stephen King evokes in his novels and stories. While Jack Torrance ultimately succumbs to the evil at the Overlook, the balance of good and evil within him remains the truly compelling aspect of the modern horror masterpiece The Shining.

CHAPTER THREE

Salem’s Lot

One of my (Meg’s) most delightful college courses was a literature class called Tales of Terror. It was naturally popular, in no small part because of its enticing name. As a lifelong horror reader, I made sure to pounce on it once registration was open. We read a number of memorable books and short stories, including Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) and Shirley Jackson’s The Possibility of Evil (1965). What really tickled me was the chance to deconstruct and discuss a Stephen King novel. As a literature major, I was used to my fellow students maligning King, one very loudly sharing her disdain for the author in our Romantic Literature course. Many had agreed with her analysis, nodding their heads in unison at her insistence that Stephen King was not “literary.”

I had remained silent, seething underneath.