If it hurts to breathe, open a window / Oh, your mind wants to leave, but you can't go (House of Balloons – The Weeknd).
I'm sure you remember that highly celebrated episode of Twilight Zone titled “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” that’s about the idyllic neighborhood of Maple Street suddenly losing power in unexplainable ways. What starts out as a bit of a laugh quickly turns pointed as tensions continue to rise the longer Maple Street’s residents are without their conveniences, and when the idea of outside interference via aliens is introduced by a comic book reading child, false politeness is quickly thrown out the window in lieu of lingering resentments, buried prejudices, and baseless accusations from one fellow neighbor to the next. The kicker at the end of the episode is that… of course it was actually aliens that were manipulating the town, and yet they decide that they don’t need to invade earth at all, because if something as simple as turning off the lights could cause a murderous frenzy, then their work is already done. It’s an incredibly effective episode that deconstructs the image of small town bliss and “good ole American values,” and has always stuck in my mind as one of the freakiest episodes due to its simplicity, lack of sci-fi elements, and its critiquing of the nuclear family. Also… the episode is twenty minutes. I’m sure you know where I’m going with this, but damn, is Under the Dome long as fuck! Have you ever read one of those Manhwa webtoon comics where there would be entire full page spreads of a character’s face and you’d be scrolling for ages only to find that the next page is yet another page dedicated to the other character’s reaction to the first person’s reaction!? Yeah well, I had the same experience while reading this book. You could read ten chapters of the same event through every one of the townsfolk’s eyes and barely any amount of time would pass in-universe. I don’t like criticizing writing decisions too much, but come on now, at a certain point we have to get on with it! It’s like running in a dream, where no matter how much you try to gain momentum, the second you look around you realize that you’ve made no ground. And trust me, the lowest form of comedy in my opinion are those weak ass jokes Jimmy Kimmel and/or Fallon make when hosting the Oscars about how Killers of the Flower Moon or Oppenheimer were too long, and yet I'm sadly of the mind that this book was wa~aay too long. Oh no, I'm turning into the anti-critical thinking one sentence reviewer guy on Letterboxd, help me!
But really though, despite conceptual interest, I’ve always found Stephen King’s length (heh heh) to be a little intimidating for me to actually get into, so for the last few reads, I’ve only been micro-dosing on his short stories in order to get the lay of the land. It sounds pretty silly, but it worked! And after loving The Jaunt (Reddit’s favorite horror book for some reason), 1408, and The Mist, I figured I was ready for the big leagues, to read the one book of his that I always wanted to; Under the Dome! And right now, I’m not sure whether or not I actually should have, because I think I enjoyed this book’s story more as a synopsis rather than the text on the page. Don’t get me wrong, Stephen King is still firing on all cylinders here, because when the horror hits, it really hits. I liked the part where our main guy, Barbie, is reminiscing about the moments before the dome appeared that there was a car passing by that had he been on, he just might just have escaped being trapped in hell. It was an incredibly powerful piece of writing that filled me with a sense of forlorn longing just by his simple, yet distraught narration. Or even just the opening scene of a plane crashing into the invisible dome in general, because it was absolutely terrifying how unfair and senseless it was. Horror lovers always like to play “here’s what I would do” while watching the flick, but with this book… like, what could you even do in this situation? How do you plan around a big ass dome that shows up out of nowhere and will kill you once you touch it!? That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m actually asking you! No, but really, despite its effectiveness, I think this is also the part where I also knew something was slightly wrong, because it was here where we were given the chapter from a bird’s perspective of the plane crash. I was like, okay? What’s next, my perspective!? Anyway, I’m sure most people already know the broad strokes, but basically a dome is put over a town and then the rest of the book is about the townsfolk coping with their new, terrible predicament. Look, I know that wasn't a good synopsis, but come on now, it's the same synopsis of "Monsters are Due on Maple Street!" Besides, like with most of these kinds of stories, the dome quickly becomes inconsequential to the plot as our resident villain, Big Jim, immediately tries to use the situation to become a Mad Max type warlord to rule over the dome. From creating his own police army to hoarding all the food and resources, this dude so quickly turns into a cackling villain that I couldn’t help but laugh. My man didn’t even wait a couple days before going all Doctor Doom!
"Would it help, do you think, if I prayed for your success?"
"Couldn't hurt." Barbie said.
I’m sure it's obvious by now, but I absolutely love stories about small towns that quickly become unhinged when deprived of their thin veneer of domestic comforts, because they’re often as poignant as they are frightening. And while they've always got a lot to say thematically, I also find the concept a little funny as well. It's fun to imagine myself in these scenarios too, and while I don't think I'd be doing even half of the wild shit that happens in this book, I still totally understand the almost immediate suspicion and anger that overwhelms the population at a record pace. I remember in Jeff Smith’s Bone series, my favorite subplot was when the main character’s cousin, Phoney Bone (the main trio are old school cartoony characters who wander into a Lord of the Rings fantasy world), stokes the flames of a small town’s fears by uniting them under the pretense of hunting dragons (the good guys), and thus gets rich in the process. It was wonderfully done because these are the same simple townsfolk who we’ve grown to love over the course of five or six volumes, and it not only showed how easy it can be to manipulate people when they already carry so much hate in their hearts for people who are different than them, but it was also very, very entertaining. Another good example of this is in the movie Weapons, where the main character’s goals are achieved almost immediately after they stop blaming each other and trying to find scapegoats for their grief and anger. It's never outright said, but I interpreted it as the narrative also placing blame on all the parents who were too busy harassing an innocent teacher to actually open their eyes to what was happening under their noses. Suspicion creeping into a seemingly perfect society has always been a powerful narrative tool because of how easy it is to see in your own neighborhood and your own neighbors. And there's also just the simple fact that everybody knows how much of a mammoth's task it is to actually shake off a growing suspicion. It's similar to how Austin Butler talked like Elvis for months in preparation for playing the man, and now that's just how he talks, the spirit of the curled lip taking over his consciousness like the Symbiote. Of course, to say that all humanity is just waiting at the front of the line to turn on each other is incredibly cynical and an oversimplification of what these stories are even trying to say. It’s the whole Lord of the Flies thing, where every 10th grade teacher for some reason gets it wrong and tries to claim that the story is about how deep down, everybody is secretly evil and given the opportunity, they will let their inner "savage" out when the pretense of society is thrown out the window.
In my opinion, the common thread among all these stories (even Bone) is actually privilege, not some all encompassing statement on human nature. The main characters at the center are usually well off people who are used to certain comforts and are more than willing to fuck everybody else over in the process of holding on to said comforts. The kids from Lord of the Flies all have rich parents that haven’t taught them basic empathy because… well, they’re rich, the citizens of Maple Street are all more than happy to keep things "the way they are" and react violently to even the smallest amount of change to their daily lives, and then Big Jim from this book, Under the Dome, is a rich man who doesn't wait to use fear and ignorance to amass even more riches and power. The point isn’t that people are evil, it’s that powerful people, grift happy people, will use any situation to their benefit by getting people to turn on each other when looking out for each other would have been to the benefit to everyone. Crabs in a barrel and all that. Anyway, I still don’t know where I stand on Under the Dome, unlike its superior predecessor with the Twilight Zone, I’m afraid that it tries to do too much with too little. Of course, none of this is to say that there’s nothing to enjoy here, as its poignancy isn't diminished whether or not it's given to us in twenty minutes or on a thousand pages. Besides, the book is so long that it’s almost a statistic certainty that there would be at least several aspects of it for me to enjoy. For example, I know a lot of people complain about Stephen King’s “terrible” endings, but of all the works of his that I’ve read, I honestly enjoyed them all, and let me tell you, Under the Dome is no different! I loved the way all the villains go out rather unceremoniously because they don’t deserve any kind of emotional resonance, and how (slight spoiler) the town is saved due to a random act of pity rather than heroic bravery because I thought it was thematically fitting due to how random the inception of the conflict originally was. An act of uncaring malice is undone by that same indifference. Then, just the sheer feeling of aimlessness after all is said and done was incredibly impactful. Under the Dome went out with a restlessness, and I loved everybody is left questioning what it all meant. And in that regard, I think it was Rod Sterling who said it the best:
“The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices ... to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own ... for the children and the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is, that these things cannot be confined only to The Twilight Zone.”
Here's my pre-read review (Hey, I knew, I just knew!) –
I really want to read this because I love a good small town horror, but I'm thinking the most frightening thing will be the fact that it's a thousand pages.