Unlike some of his past novels (“Needful Things,” “Rose Madder”), in which the author was as guilty as a B movie director of dragging out suspense, Stephen King gets right down to the heart of the matter in the first chapter of his new novel, “Cell,” when a pulse sent worldwide via cellphones turns those who answer the devices into mindless, blood-thirsty lunatics.
The opening scenes of mayhem and violence in the city of Boston – in which people leap out of skyscraper windows,
drivers careen off the road into unwitting pedestrians, strangers suddenly tear into each other’s throats, numerous gunshots are heard followed by screams in the distance and plumes of smoke suddenly color the skies – will undoubtedly call up memories of televised stories of road rage, gun-related violence in the workplace and at schools, or even 9/11.
Indeed, one short sentence amid all the others seems designed to do just that as King writes: “They couldn’t see what had exploded, but now a much larger, darker plume of smoke was rising above the buildings on that horizon.” And just before that, one of the bystanders says, “Something blew up over there. I mean big time. Maybe it’s terrorists.”
That line could be the standard for a century that seemingly is being defined by fear: fear of terrorists; fear of technology; fear of each other. That atmosphere of dread is expertly reflected in “Cell,” a novel in which King, like H.G. Wells in “War of the Worlds,” decides not to follow the worldwide catastrophe.
Rather, he focuses on a small group of people in northeast America, including Clayton Riddell, whose wife and child are in Maine; Tom, a single, gay man; and Alice, a teenager who had to kill her mother after the pulse turned her mom monstrous. Their journey north in search of Clay’s family and answers to the riddle of the pulse makes up the bulk of this tightly paced thriller.
Along the way, the three travelers discover that the “phoners,” a label given to those affected by the pulse, are evolving, moving in flocks, like birds, moving in the open only during the daytime, meaning that “normals” must now live like vampires, traveling only at night, quite often in fear of each other.
Everything starts coming to a head when the trio runs into a professor of English at Gaiten Academy near Boston who has discovered that the phoners are gaining intelligence; and when they learn of a mysterious person known as the Raggedy Man who is leading a large group of phoners for his own purposes.
King once lamented that many academia-influenced critics rarely afforded genre writers the chance to revisit themes and settings (a la John Updike and his Rabbit Angstrom novels) without accusing said writers of rehashing plots, or a lack of imagination. Whether one labels it genre or mainstream, “Cell” not only revisits thematic territory from King’s oeuvre (“The Stand,” “Pet Sematary,” “Tommyknockers,” “Dreamcatcher”), it pays homage to the likes of Richard Matheson and George Romero (both of whom influenced King) and their most famous works – “I Am Legend” and “Night of the Living Dead.” There’s even a tip of the hat to Lewis Carroll.
And with its disturbingly accurate atmosphere of dread, reflecting that of modern America, its underlying sarcasm about those enslaved by technology and its finely rendered scenes of horrific violence and human compassion, “Cell” truly captures the tenor of fear and paranoia that has pervaded the beginning of the 21st century.
Even without the benefit of hindsight, it’s already clear that King’s latest will have to be shelved beside such classics as “The Stand,” “The Dead Zone,” “Pet Sematary” and “Misery.”
A nerve-racking, genuinely unsettling thriller, “Cell” is proof positive that King has tapped into yet another creative wellspring during a period of life when most writers are often overworking the same dry and dusty literary landscapes.
Dorman T. Shindler, a freelancer from Missouri, contributes to a variety of national magazines and newspapers.
“Cell”
By Stephen King
Scribner, 384 pages, $23.95
