11/22/63 by Stephen King
B&B RATING: 3/5
MOOD: If you’re looking for an escape to the past and another reason to hate 2020, this one is for you.
Synopsis
Jake Epping is an ordinary man in love with Fat Burgers at his favorite hole-in-the-wall diner. Little does he know, eating at that particular diner will change his life. When the diner’s owner, Al, tasks Jake with using a rip in time to go back to 1958 to complete something Al couldn’t finish. The goal? Change the past and kill Lee Harvey Oswald - saving John F. Kennedy from being assassinated.
While back in time, Jake, now going by the alias of George, falls in love with a lanky woman, Sadie, who changes his perspective on his world in 2011 and the world of 1958 he stepped into. There’s a fury of activity, of the obdurate past trying to stop Jake/George from being changed, and a whole history of small harmonies helping and hurting him along the way.
Jake/George has five years to change the course of history. Can he do it? Can he save Kennedy, change the course of history, and change the world as we know it? What will happen with the ripple effects of small changes throughout the way? Will the time rip, the bubble per se, still exist?
Review
I hated this book. There were so many parts of it that left me questioning things, logically, that I couldn't place and couldn’t fit and made me so frustrated, I almost DNF’d it several times. It easily could have been 400 pages shorter. I loved Sadie as a character, but I couldn’t stand Jake/George. Sadie, while she started as a typical 1950’s housewife, she had a streak in her that built a fire in me that smoldered throughout the book. She’s the reason I finished it.
The story itself, the plot, the characters - I admit, it was good, hence the three-stars. I’ll give King that, he knows how to paint a scene and picture, and it’s no wonder several of his books have been turned into movies, TV shows, and how much success he has garnered. To me though, it was too much. I don’t need to know how the mold on the walls ran into the green crayon girls drawn with the black shoes, with the boxspring and no mattress while the carpet sags and looks like it hasn’t ever been cleaned and blah blah blah. I get it. The room is dirty. Your character is living in a shit-hole. Move on.
While the character, Jake/George, was moving through the story, it was easy to start getting confused. As someone who enjoys a bit of bubbles during story-time, it made it hard to keep up at times. So many Georges. Several times “we couldn't fall in love,” or “of course I didn’t do that,” only to find out ten sentences later that, of course, he did. Why write that you didn’t do it only to contradict yourself a sentence later? It felt like filler to me.
I’ve grown to realize that Stephen King is not for me. I know he has a cult following. Plus, what the ever-loving fuck is up with King writing about animal abuse? It has literally no place in the plot, it does not advance the story, and doesn’t do anything other than give the reader a potential shock, or in my case a feeling of extreme disgust. I got about 300 pages into The Stand and had to stop because of the description of the animal neglect. Why? I just don’t understand. Maybe I’ll finish that one some day, but not anytime soon.
In the end, fuck this book.
Drink Pairing:
Shots of burning whiskey while chowing on the greasiest burger you can find.