Swan Song Journal

You read that right.  I'm journaling a non-King novel. Why? Swan Song goes beyond the scope of most books, requiring more than one entry. I've been reading the book for quite a while now on nights that I go running alone.  I have to admit that I've fallen in love with the book.

"I thought this was a Stephen King blog."  It is.  And if you only want discussions about Stephen King -- then don't read Stephen King.  Because King's own work is wound with commentary on other works.  So our discussion of King and the world of Stephen King should be wider than King's own stream of novels.

That was a long way of saying -- I've been reading Swan Song and want to talk about it.

I wrote a short article years ago on the similarities between Swan Song and The Stand.  I read both books in high school.  But I read the Stand many more times after that.  But Swan Song was given a single reading, and I was left with only impressions of where the book had taken me.  What I realized when I began reading Swan Song again is that I had no idea where  the book was going.  That's strange, since I usually know at least who is going to die and major plot twists. Except for a few scenes, my mind was a blank slate.  How could that happen?  I remember reading it.  I knew enough to have made a mental list of ways the book is like The Stand.

It comes down to this: I read Swan Song in study hall.  Do  you remember study hall?  I mostly don't.  I read IT in study hall, too.  And the Langoliers.  Might I -- gasp -- have skimmed major portions of the book?  The novel was popular at my school; as popular as any book could be.  My friends and I were mostly interested in girls, monsters, girls, writing books and did I mention girls?  Yeah, I'm ready to say now what I wasn't willing to admit to myself much earlier -- I had to have skimmed a lot of this book.

Is McCammon King?

How much is Robert McCammon like Stephen King?  He's not.  Not at all.  And, though there are amazing similarities between Swan Song and The Stand, the truth is, Swan Song can stand on its own heap of pages.  McCammon has his own narrative voice; his own plotting and a pace that is unique to  himself.

Like King, McCammon uses name brands, develops strong characters, and gives the reader two major "camps" -- the good guys and the bad guys.  Swan Song is a larger book; not in page count, but in scope.  McCammon pulls away more often than King did to show what's going on with others affected by the destruction.

One strange thing:

The book has a strange format, in my opinion.  Each book opens with a page that lists the chapter titles.  But then, the chapters themselves do not bear those titles.  This is true in both the paperback and audio edition.  So to know the chapter title you are on, you have to go back to the opening section and count down.  I'm really not sure why this is.

I like chapter titles, as it gives a portion of text a sense of perspective and purpose for both writer and reader.

What I Like About Swan Song:

Anticipation: McCammon is able to keep the reader guessing as to who is going to survive.  I remember turning the pages of the Stand in total disbelief when King killed off some major characters.  I was hooked after that, because anything could happen.  I have the same feeling with Swan Song.

At one point a woman sees a skull when she looks at Josh.  Previously seeing the  skull meant that person was going to die.  This feels like it came right out of a Twilight Zone's episode titled, The Purple Testament. However, the woman who sees this precursor to death shining on Josh's face dies; leaving the reader wondering if Josh is indeed marked for death.

Children: There are both good and bad children in Swan Song.  Swan herself (Sue Wanda) is nine, heading quickly into ten; while evil Roland is a young teenager who sees himself as the "King's Knight," ready to defend and obey the Colonel.  There is a scene in which Roland is required to cut off the Colonel's hand.  It's great.  I mean, really fantastically freaky.

And he sucked in his breath and brought the cleaver down with all of his strength on Colonel Macklin’s wrist. 

Bone crunched. Macklin jerked but made no sound. Roland thought the blade had gone all the way through, but he saw with renewed shock that it had only penetrated the man’s thick wrist to the depth of an inch. 

“Finish it!” Warner shouted. 

Roland pulled the cleaver out. 

Macklin’s eyes, ringed with purple, fluttered closed and then jerked open again. “Finish it,” he whispered. 

Roland lifted his arm and struck down again. Still the wrist wouldn’t part. Roland struck down a third time, and a fourth, harder and harder. He heard the one-eyed hunchback shouting at him to hurry, but Macklin remained silent. Roland pulled the cleaver free and struck a fifth time. There was a lot of blood now, but still the tendons hung together. Roland began to grind the cleaver back and forth; Macklin’s face had turned a pasty yellow-white, his lips as gray as graveyard dirt.

The brutality in Swan Song is pretty strong.  Mccammon cuts away at key moments, leaving it to the mind to fill in; usually.  But sometimes he sticks around, telling the story as the reader thinks, "I can't believe this guy is going there!"

 I'll save more for the next journal entry. Suffice to say, I am swept away once again into the world of Robert McCammon.  I'm loving it.