It took me longer to get through the second half of Rose Madder than I anticipated. This is not so much a criticism of the book as it is a reflection of my busy life at the current time. Lately, I’ve had to put reading on the back burner more than I like to. My hope is that once my internship is finished in May, I’ll be able to dive back into reading to the extent that I really enjoy.
That said, while my schedule was the primary hindrance, I confess that I did lose a bit of interest in the book as it progressed.
The funny thing is, at least in its broad strokes, the story actually evolved the way I hoped it would. The supernatural elements of the novel don’t play (quite) as big a part as I suspected they might, and the suspense/thriller aspects essentially drive most of the latter part of the book. I very much liked the grounded nature of the early sections of the novel, and I was pleased that a lot of that is retained in the second half. It was when the story segued into supernatural territory that I grew restless. The fantasy content does add an artistic touch to the proceedings, but despite how imaginative it is, I found myself craving more of the straightforward realism.
I mentioned in the prior post that Rose Madder seems to be regarded as one of King’s weaker novels. Having finished it, I suppose I can see why it is not a favorite of many fans. In terms of characters—typically one of King’s greatest strengths—Rosie is excellent, but the supporting cast is less striking. In particular, Norman is not the most complex villain possible. In my view, Norman is essentially just an effective device to help facilitate Rosie’s affecting character arc. In fact, I could even make the argument that Bill serves a similar purpose, though on the positive end. Personally, I am not too bothered by the way these characters (as well as others) serve the plot, because Rosie’s journey of growth is the single most satisfying aspect of the novel overall. The essential point of the book, for me at least, is to draw empathy for what Rosie endures, and accomplishes. It is a little odd to read a novel by King where he doesn’t strive to give us greater detail regarding the histories and motivations of even minor characters, but again, this story is Rosie’s. To spend too much time fleshing out the other characters, such as by creating complex rationalizations for Norman’s evilness, would be beside the point. What is important is how Rosie, whom this story revolves around, relates to everyone else—how she perceives them and feels about them. And in that regard, King succeeds.
There are other issues, I suppose. The relative ease by which Rosie comes upon her new career. How quickly Norman is identified at the picnic event. These, and other elements of the plot seem to occur too suddenly or conveniently, which suggests a bit of laziness perhaps on King’s part. I do think he manages to create a good amount of suspense overall, but I can see why some may think this is one of his less creative and complex efforts.
What makes the book work so well are the insights King offers about the world of victims of domestic abuse. The perspective he writes from is far from pitying, which I admire. King examines the world of these survivors with genuine interest and affection, and he describes their experiences in a way that feels specific, textured, and real. The details regarding “Daughters and Sisters” are excellent, and are presented with such simple, and convincing, efficiency that it may be easy to overlook how sharp they are. I get the impression that in the process of crafting this story, King informed himself quite well about what domestic abuse services entail. Similarly, there are a good many nuggets about the culture of police work that struck me as especially insightful as well.
In terms of the quality of King’s writing, I found it to be good, though perhaps not as impressive as he is frequently capable of. I was on the lookout for especially elegant or poignant phrasing, but didn’t find much. That doesn’t mean the writing isn’t particularly effective at conveying emotion or suspense. It is. But I didn’t find myself re-reading sentences, in order to appreciate how well-crafted or haunting they were.
I am not totally convinced that the supernatural leanings of the book (which I won’t discuss, so as not to spoil them) enhance the novel overall. To be honest, I am not even very tempted to explore the symbolism in it, which leaves me with the feeling that the book might have worked just as well without it. HOWEVER…I did have a hunch while reading the book that it might be, in some sense, Dark Tower related. This was confirmed after I did a little digging online, and I have to say that, because of that, I was immediately more interested in the “fantastic” or magical elements. I think they add something cool to the story, especially in terms of the idea of fate, but I am still not sure they make the book any better, in the long run, than it would have been as a straightforward, realistic take on domestic abuse.
If it sounds as if I didn’t much care for this book, I assure you that is not the case. I actually enjoyed certain aspects of it quite a lot. Ultimately, the fact that King surprised me with such a positive and empowering perspective on the subject of domestic abuse makes this a special work. On that fact alone, my appreciation for Stephen King was only strengthened by reading this book. And I was encouraged to find that at least one blogger and fellow King fan took to this book quite strongly, identifying with Rosie’s suffering and subsequent redemption. Such testimonies are proof that King has indeed crafted something relevant and meaningful.
Rose Madder is certainly worth a read. And if it is true that this is among the worst of his novels, that is an encouraging thought! It may not be stellar, but I found it to be far from bad.
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