#anyway. new is in this too of course and his character is a foul-mouthed gardener who is only sweet with his plants

[blatantprinterpropaganda]

... way #1: have your rich brat future soulmate who you haven't met yet do a hit and run on you with his car and briefly die from it

[old-long-john]

eeee fun!!! for the prompt meme - 28 or 40, I couldnt pick lol

More bickering, I’m afraid. I’m on a kick. I was cheeky and made this vaguely ot4-ish too, because I figured you wouldn’t mind too much. ;)

28. “I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.” 

“You lost my bird?!”

Silver was standing with his arm raised towards Flint’s chest, fingers splayed in angry disbelief, and Flint found himself resisting the urge to take a step back to put more space between them. He was finding it difficult enough to keep his temper in check around Silver these days, more and more often, but with Silver leaning dangerously far into his personal space, eyes wild and asking for a fight, Flint could feel himself losing grip on his hard won self-control already.

A lot of the time it was good, sharing this space between the four of them, and sharing each other’s company, but the claustrophobia could be quick to overwhelm and difficult to escape, and Flint wondered how on earth it could be worse on land than aboard a ship at sea. Silver had claimed the kitchen as his own within a day of arriving, Thomas and Madi lacking a single culinary skill between them and Flint generally lacking the patience to implement his own, but Silver had little to do with his time other than experiment with recipes from books Flint had acquired and talk incessantly to his parrot as he cooked. It had only been a few months in this new arrangement, but his fractiousness was making everybody tense, and Flint wasn’t sure what to do about it, because he wasn’t sure what the exact root of it was.

“I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it,” he said, in a inelegant attempt to sidestep them around this latest confrontation via flippancy. It was apparently precisely the wrong thing to say, however, and Silver immediately took offence.

“First of all, she’s a ‘her’, not an ‘it’,” he said, punctuating his points with sharp thumps of his crutch against the wooden floor. “Second of all, she’s a parrot, not a fucking inanimate object. How do you ‘misplace’ a bird?”

“With a great deal of effort, as it turns out,” Flint said, knowing full well that he wasn’t helping matters in the slightest. It was Silver himself who was responsible for reminding him of the true joys of shit-stirring. It was a reminder he could’ve done without, for the sake of harmonious living if nothing else.

“What is wrong with you?!” Silver said, thoroughly unamused.

“Rather a lot actually,” Flint replied. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”

Silver snorted without humour. “Funny. I’m glad you’re feeling so harmonious with your myriad character flaws these days, but perhaps you could save it for when you’ve relocated my fucking bird,” he said.

“Jesus Christ, calm down,” Flint said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t actually lose her on purpose, she just took off. She’s bound to turn up again soon. She always does, unfortunately for me.”

“Oh please,” Silver said, finally stepping backwards and propping a hip against the dining table to take the weight off his crutch. “She’s not that horrible to you.”

Flint wasn’t sure Silver looked particularly mollified, but he at least seemed somewhat deflated. Silver scrubbed a hand through his hair, achieving nothing but making it look even wilder than usual.

“The bastard thing tries to maim me at least once a week,” said Flint, rubbing at a still-pink scar on one of his thumbs that proved the point.

Silver rolled his eyes. “That’s because she thinks you don’t like her,” he said.

“I don’t like her,” Flint muttered. “She’s cantankerous and more foul-mouthed than any sailor I ever met, which is of course your fault. It’s entirely unsurprising that of all the seafaring skills you failed to acquire, profanity was the one thing you actually took to with proficiency.”

Silver tugged on his beard, as though suddenly recalling that he hadn’t always been this once-sailor who hid behind the fierceness and facade it still provided. “I was quite proficient in profanity before I ever even laid eyes on the thrice-cursed, beggar-fucking sea, thank you very much,” he said.

“Oh, bravo,” said Flint. “You’re a true poet.”

“Stop taking the piss, Flint. I just want my bird back,” Silver grumbled, and he looked so despondent that Flint sighed as he felt the wind knocked from his sails all at once.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s just difficult to do much about it. It hardly seems wise to go walking around shouting ‘Captain Flint’ at the top of my lungs. You just had to give her that stupid name, didn’t you?”

“She wouldn’t answer to anything else by the time I’d reconsidered. It’s still funny to me anyway,” Silver said defensively.

Flint shook his head. “Hilarious, until something like this happens, or she says the name to the wrong person and they put two and two together,” he said.

“Oh now you calm down,” Silver said. “People are idiots. Why would anyone link you to a ghost story just because a loquacious bird said ‘Captain Flint’? Don’t be paranoid. You’re just humble small-town fisherman Jim Barlow these days, remember?”

Flint frowned, unconvinced. “Yes, I’m aware of that, but it would seem sensible not to tempt fate and invite people to question whether we are who we claim to be, Solomon,” he said.

“What’s going on?” Madi said, stepping into the room, her arms stacked full of papers and books. Thomas was close behind her, similarly burdened.

“He lost my bird,” Silver blurted out, before Flint could even open his mouth.

“Oh, stop whining,” Flint sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in exhausted irritation.

Silver spluttered, the embers of his outrage rekindled in an instant. “I’m not whining! I swear to god, if anything happens to her then you’d better start sleeping with one eye open,” he said.

“Mm, because you’ve proven so successful at killing me in the past,” Flint drawled, entirely unmoved by the threat.

“Yes, alright. That’ll do,” Thomas said mildly. “Would you please take this outside? Miss Scott and I need the room.”

Silver tutted in disgust at being ousted from his spot by the table, but he rearranged his crutch under his arm anyway and headed for the door to the back garden.

“Go after him please, James,” Thomas murmured.

Flint looked at Madi for support, but she simply shrugged and said, ‘Don’t look to me to make this right.”

She and Silver had plenty enough troubles of their own, Flint knew, and she wasn’t about to allow herself to be dragged into any more where it could be avoided.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to follow him,” Flint tried, looking over his shoulder as the door slammed shut and then turning back to Thomas.

Thomas sighed heavily, reluctantly looking up from the book he was flicking through. “He needs to talk to someone. Why do you think he’s so attached to that bird? Why he chatters so incessantly to her? She’s the only one in this house who doesn’t harbour any sort of ill-feeling or resentment towards him,” he said. “He needs to find something else to do with his time and he needs to feel as though he has someone he can talk to plainly who can answer back in more than just echoes.”

“Oh,” Flint replied, feeling suddenly as though he had been incredibly obtuse.

“Yes, ‘oh’,” Thomas said, with a small smile. “Go after him.”

Flint found Silver sitting on the ground outside, forearms resting on his one bent knee and his crutch discarded beside him. His foot was bare, toes curled into the grass. He looked dishevelled and small, and fondness uncoiled itself unbidden within Flint’s chest at the sight of him.

“Are you happy?” Flint said, opting for directness as he settled beside Silver.

“What?” Silver said quietly, turning to look at him. His eyes looked pink and tired.

“Are you happy here? In this situation?” Flint said, plucking a piece of grass from between his feet and winding it around his finger.

Silver considered his question for a long moment, and then said, “It isn’t how I thought it would be.”

“Which parts of it?” said Flint.

“Being part of a household. A home. It can be…stifling,” Silver said, eyes focused somewhere on the horizon. “I don’t know how to be in one place for a long time, especially with no end in sight. Funny how you can be so certain you want a thing, but then when you get it it isn’t at all what you imagined, and perhaps not what you ever really wanted at all.”

“You don’t want to be here?” Flint said, pausing in his fidgeting with the grass.

“No, I do,” Silver insisted. “Most of the time. A lot of the time. It’s just more difficult than I thought it would be. And I know I shouldn’t complain. I have no right. This is what I traded everything for. I made this decision for all of us and we all have to live with it. I know that. It’s obscene that I would be the one to find it all so lacking after everything that happened, but knowing that fact really only makes it worse.”

Flint sighed. “We’ll find a way to make it work,” he said. “What’s done is done, and there is nowhere now that I would rather be than with you three. So we will find a way to make it work, somehow.”

Silver said nothing in response, eyes still on some distant point, but he reached across and tangled his fingers with Flint’s, laying their hands on the grass between them.

“Pieces of eight!”

The shrill shout came from behind and above them, and twisting round Flint spotted Silver’s parrot perched on the chimney stack, peering down at them.

“Captain!” Silver called, breaking into a wide smile.

“Told you I wouldn’t be rid of her that easily,” Flint teased.

“Shut up,” said Silver, but it was without venom and he squeezed Flint’s fingers gently.

“By the way, stop grousing to that bloody bird in foreign languages,” Flint said. “She called me a ‘cock-sucking son of a bitch’ in Portuguese yesterday.”

Silver looked shifty. “You don’t speak Portuguese,” he said.

“I speak a sailor’s Portuguese. The vulgarities are the very first things I learned,” Flint said, eyebrow arched.

“Oh,” said Silver, looking less contrite than Flint thought he ought to.

“Don’t trust your secrets with that damn bird, Mr Silver. In any tongue,” he said.

“I have to talk to someone,” Silver countered.

“Then talk to me,” Flint replied, “in absolutely any tongue you like.”

Silver snorted. “Lech.”

“Anything for you,” said Flint, squeezing Silver’s fingers back. 

[thegfiles]

It by Stephen King

Stephen King's It is about the essence and personafication of evil in the form of whatever scares you the most -- this It prefers to take the shape of a clown and calls Itself either Pennywise the Dancing Clown or Robert "Bob" Gray. This entity was here long before people were in existance anywhere. In the 1950s a group of children, six boys and one girl, came to know and understand this entity for what It was as much as any human being can and set out to destroy It. They thought they were successful...but then It came back. And, in the 1980s they found themselves right back in their hometown of Derry, Maine where they had to battle this monstrosity again.

(Major spoilers below the cut, including character deaths. I also add a lot of speculation, conjecture, and heavily add my own opinions and this does absolutely involve criticism. Stephen King is my favorite author, It is one of my favorite books, but this review is detailed and lengthy and doesn’t skimp on criticism just because of that and it probably will upset some people.)

In this book, more than any other by him that I've read, he flirts with the subject of homosexuality. This was actually a theme that went throughout the book both in negative and positive ways. In the very beginning of the book one of the first new murder victims was a gay man who was in a loving and committed relationship with another man. The relationship seemed quite healthy and not at all abnormal. Many of the characters throughout in the 50s were worried about homosexuals, especially being accidentally mistaken for one, so he definitely touches on the prejudice, using anti-gay explitives quite often. There was also an odd bond between the characters Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak.

In the beginning of the book there are two gay characters, one of which becomes a victim of a violent hate crime and then of It as well. I like the way that King describes their struggle just to fit in and have a normal life. I like the way that these two were pretty much opposite in the way that they saw the world. One was a perpetual optimist (he died), and the other was more of a realist (he survived). I liked how prejudice was displayed, in its nitty gritty, rude and vile true colors. There was nothing sympathetic about it, there was nothing right about it. There was no, "well you know, if the gay guy had just...walked away..." scapegoating. It showed pack mentality at its worst. And, above all, King did a great job of describing just how much the two men had loved each other and had meant to one another and that their love was genuine and real. Just as real as any heterosexual relationship. And he did all of this without even making them main characters, or having them last in the book aside from later references past the first few chapters. That's fucking talent (too bad he couldn't apply that talent to adding a few strong women).

Excerpt from Part 1, chapter 2, page 26:

That summer, Haggarty told Harold Gardener and Jeff Reeves, was the happiest summer of his life--he shuld have been on the lookout, he said; he should have known that God only puts a rug under guys like him in order to jerk it out from under their feet.

Excerpt from Part 1, chapter 2, page 28:

Another match revealed STICK NAILS IN EYES OF ALL FAGOTS (FOR GOD)! "Whoever writes these little homilies has got a case of the deep-down crazies. I'd feel better if I thought it was just one person, one isolated sickie, but..." Don swept his arm vaguely down the length of the Kissing Bridge. "There's a lot of this stuff...and I just don't think one person did it all. That's why I want to leave Derry, Ade. Too many places and too many people seem to have the deep-down crazies." "Well, wait until I finish my novel, okay? Please? October, I promise, no later. The air's better here." "He didn't know it was the water he was going to have to watch out for," Don Haggarty said bitterly.

In the end, when Eddie dies and after they've finally defeated It, Richie tries to carry Eddie out, aided at first by Ben. This part is set in the 1980s when they are adults. This takes place deep under the ground of Derry, Maine. In the sewer systems. That is where It's lair is and always has been. So, that's where they had to go the first time and the last time (this time) to battle it. But, they've already got Bill's wife Audra to get out of the sewers where It had mind-fucked someone into bringing her as a way of weakening the group's leader, and she happens to be catatonic (literally). They were already two members short. One of the members, upon finding out It was back, committed suicide to avoid having to come back to Derry and battle It again. Another was injured by another mind-fucked human and had to go to the hospital and was still recovering and had been unable to make it. Now Eddie's dead, and two of the remaining men had to carry a woman who was still alive but in a coma of some sort due to having seen the true version of It (this is all really complicated to explain, so forgive me if its confusing) called the Dead Lights. Somehow this is both where It truly resides and also the true form of It. Don't ask me how, it just is.

That leaves Bill and Ben to carry the still-alive woman (because Bill is not all there right now, anyway), and Richie to carry Eddie all alone through the complicated sewer system. Why Beverly couldn't help him, I don't know. She was just useless throughout this part as she was throughout the rest of it, really. So, once they got just outside of the lair, they do something that I found horrible. They told Richie...to just put Eddie down and leave him there. In the dark and the cold. Among the stagnant sewer water and the bones and half-rotted corpses of past victims.

Excerpt from Part 5, chapter 23, page 1054:

"Put him down," Beverly said. "He can stay here." "It's too dark," Richie sobbed. "You know..it's too dark. Eds...he..." "No, it's okay," Ben said. "Maybe this is where he's supposed to be. I think maybe it is." They put him down, and Richie kissed Eddie's cheek. Then he looked blindly up at Ben. "You sure?" "Yeah. Come on, Richie." Richie got up and turned toward the door. "Fuck you, Bitch!" he cried suddenly, and kicked the door shut with his foot. It made a solid chukking sound as it closed and latched. "Why'd you do that?" Beverly asked. "I don't know," Richie said, but he knew well enough. He looked back over his shoulder just as the match Beverly was holding went out.

Richie, at first, refuses. But, they convince him. That, and the fact that he probably couldn't carry him out on his own anyway, I think. And, someone opens their mouth and opines that this is probably where Eddie was meant to be anyway (but, ladies, this is bullshit. If you have read this book, you know how Eddie was, and you know that is the VERY FUCKING LAST place he'd want to be left under ANY circumstances. Especially since he pretty much saved their fucking lives and that's why he was dead).

Excerpt from Part 5, chapter 22, page 1023:

The Spider's head turned toward the sound, Its eyes momentarily leaving Richie's. "Here!" Eddie howled in his fading voice. "Here, have some of this!" He leaped at It, triggering the aspirator at the same time, and for an instant all his childhood belief in the medicine came back to him, the childhood medicine that could solve everything, that could make him feel better when the bigger boys roughed him up or when he was knocked over in the rush to get through the doors when school let out or when he had to sit on the edge of the Tracker Brothers' vacant lot, out of the game because his mother wouldn't allow him to play baseball. It was good, strong medicine, and as he leaped into the Spider's face, smelling Its foul yellow stench, feeling himself overwhelmed by Its single-minded fury and determination to wipe them all out, he triggered the aspirator into one of Its ruby eyes.

He felt-heared Its scream--no rage this time, only pain, a horrid screaming agony. He saw the mist of droplets turn white where they landed, saw them sink in as a splash of carbolic acid would sink in; he saw Its huge eye begin to flatten out like a bloody egg-yolk and run in a ghastly stream of living blood and ichor and maggoty pus. "Come home now, Bill!" he screamed with the last of his voice, and then he struck It, he felt Its noisome heat baking into him; he felt a terrible wet warmth and realized that his good arm had slipped into the Spider's mouth.

He triggered the aspirator again, shooting the stuff right down Its throat this time, right down Its rotten evil stinking gullet, and there was sudden, flashing pain, as clean as the drop of a heavy knife, as Its jaws closed and ripped his arm off at the shoulder.

Excerpt from Part 5, chapter 22, page 1024:

He looked up at Beverly and saw she was crying, the tears coursing down her dirty cheeks as she got an arm under him; he became aware that she had taken off her blouse and was trying to staunch the flow of blood, and that she was screaming for help. Then he looked at Richie and licked his lips. Fading, fading back. Becoming clearer and clearer, emptying out, all of the impurities flowing out of him so he could become clear, so that the light could flow through, and if he had had time enough he could have preached on this, he could have sermonized: Not bad, he would begin. This is not bad at all. But there was something else he had to say first. "Richie," he whispered. "What?" Richie was down on his hands and knees, staring at him desperately." "Don't call me Eds," he said, and smiled. He raised his left hand slowly and touched Richie's cheek. Richie was crying. "You know I...I..." Eddie closed his eyes, thinking of how to finish, and while he was still thinking it over he died.

So, what's that got to do with homosexuality? Well, not a lot. But, it sets things up for what a lot of readers kind of figured in the first place. It sets things up to show that Richie probably cared about Eddie more than he let on. He was the only one who, after setting him down, not only cried...but kissed Eddie. On the cheek, yeah, but it was a kiss.

In this book there is only one female character as one of the 8 main characters. Beverly Marsh was really not all that important to the plot or anything else. She was there sometimes as a love interest, where all the boys in the Lucky 7 individually seemed to have some sort of crush on her (with, perhaps, the exception of Mike Hanlon -- the only black child of the bunch). Its important to note that this book jumps between the 50s and the 80s for its time period. The 50s weren't really that awesome as far as how women were viewed, but still. There's no excuse for some of the nonsense that is in this book.

The book and the movie are drastically different, and I'm speaking strictly about the book here. Beverly Marsh for most of the book has a thing for Bill Denbrough, the leader of their group. And he's got a thing for her. But, she's also sort of interested in Ben Hanscome. And he's REALLY gaga for her. And Richie Tozier sort of likes her, too. And she was showing interest in him at first as well (before she met Bill).

And, you know, at that point they're still really young kids and its okay, because they've never really experienced feelings like that before and its mostly just crushes and puppy love and nothing serious. Beverly also comes from a poor family, on the "wrong" side of town. Her father is a janitor at both the school she goes to and also the Derry Home Hospital, her mother is a waitress and they live in a not-so-impressive-looking apartment building. Her mother is hardly around, and her father is violent and has an obsession with the idea that if she has anything to do with boys at all she'll have sex with them and that that is BAD. And its implied that he might have sexual thoughts about her, though its never actually made much of or actually confirmed. Its just one of those undertones you get from Al Marsh. And her mother apparently is worried about that, because she asked Beverly at one point right out if her father had ever "touched" her.

Excerpt from Part 2, page 386, chapter 9:

Her mother looked back at her, her lips pressed together so tightly they almost weren't there. "You sure your dad wasn't angry with you last night?" "No!" "Bevvie, does he ever touch you?" "What?" Beverly looked at her mother, totally perplexed. God, her father touched her every day. "I don't get what you--" "Never mind," Elfrida said shortly. "Don't forget the trash. And if those windows are streaked, you won't need your father to give you the blue devil."

Al Marsh is a very strange man. This worry from her mother is not entirely unfounded. There are several incidences in the book where his actions towards his daughter are just plain odd. Sometimes, its a little more vague and when she isn't around, but it's easily noticed.

Excerpt from Part 2, page 379, chapter 9:

He did not drink, he did not smoke, he did not chase after women. I got all the women I need at home, he said on occasion, and when said it a peculiar secretive smile would cross his face--it not brighten it but did quite the opposite. Watching that smile was like watching the shadow of a cloud travel rapidly across a rocky field. They take care of me, and when they need it, I take care of them.

Excerpt from Part 2, page 869, chapter 19:

All the times he had scared her; all the times he had shamed her; all the times he had hurt her. "You just let me alone!" "Don't talk to your daddy like that," he said, sounding startled. "I didn't do what you're saying! I never did!" "Maybe. Maybe not. I'm going to check and make sure. I know how. Take your pants off."

This is often a pattern I see with women in King's books. Most characters have currently or have had in the past a violent parent, usually a father. If its a girl, she's usually had some sort of sexual abuse or the fear was there, even if in the back of her mind, that she might be molested by her father at some point. Even if she never gives voice to it in those words.

Another bit of beef I have to take up with King in this book involving Beverly is just how useless she was. I only really ever saw her do anything actually useful once. And that was when they fought It the first time as a whole group. They did so on 29 Neibolt Street in their town of Derry. It was a run-down area that was largely abandoned. That house was also abandoned. She was the one that saved their asses that day. Sort of. Mostly. By shooting it with a silver slug they'd melted and made out of silver dollars (this process was described in great detail within the book and it was quite fascinating) while it was in the form of a werewolf. They only had two and she wasted one on nothing when she was startled by something in a cupboard...But, if she hadn't done what she did at that point, and then faked the monster out (with generous help from the boys on that faking out part) to make It think she had a third slug when she did not, they'd have all died in that house.

But, other than that, she did nothing useful whatsoever, except scream, and run around, and get chased by It, by school bullies, and by her father. And a few times she fell down.

Later in life, she is married to a real jerk who gets off on keeping tight control over her by use of beatings (sometimes with belts), emotional abuse, verbal abuse, and sexual abuse. Its opined by her that she married her father. Its opined by others in the book that she married the school bully, Henry Bowers, from whom they spent the summer running away from back in the 50s when they first learned of It's existance. But, really, its just more of the same from King when it comes to this. Women who are main characters, or at least important characters, often have violent husbands in his books.

And here I come to a fork in the road. There are two paths which are important that I want to take, and I don't know which one I want to go down first. But, I will get to both of them. I guess I'll start with the pregnancy issue.

For some reason in this book, and others that I've read from King, he uses the phrase, "catching pregnant," or "caught pregnant," to describe a woman who is...well...pregnant. As if its a cold or a disease that you catch. I find this repulsive. And, I have no idea where this phrase came from. I really don't think that its something he made up himself. I've heard it before, though rarely. I think I heard it in a movie or two before. I don't even remember which one, its just that that phrase is one that sticks with you when you hear it, you know? Its just so bizarre and ridiculous and offensive. I sort of want to write to him and ask him where he got that phrase, why he uses it, and if he is aware of the implications of using it. Its always used as such a cast-away phrasing, as if someone is just commenting on the weather or something. Its just that casual, even in print when its used. But, yet its so glaring.

Excerpt from Part 3, chapter 10, page 494:

"Anyway, Audra said it wuold be just our luck if she caught pregnant while we were in preproduction and she had to do ten weeks of strenuous acting and being morning-sick at the same time."

Pregnancy is not a disease, nor is it a common cold. Nor should pregnancy nor pregnant women be treated as if they have some sort of disease, cold, little tiny alien invader within themselves, or some other illness.

Moving on from this, though, is the last straw that I have to pick with this book that I can think of at the moment when it comes to women. And it contains another spoiler alert. This was something I did not see coming. Character death I foresaw, but THIS was not something I foresaw. Even when it was hinted at ONE time during the book. I just thought, "surely not" and moved on. Well, I was wrong! So, here is another warning.

When they are children in the 50s and they battle It in the sewers then, the first time they ever battle It there, and think they've won. Something very curious happens. Eddie was supposed to be able to lead them back out. He could not, which was odd. He was known for always knowing which way to go, even if he was unfamiliar with the terrain. HE knew how to get them to the lair in the first place. He led them there. Straight there. Now, he had no idea. They were all starting to get upset, anxious, and panicky. Nerves were wearing thin and they were snapping at each other. So, Beverly comes up with a plan to calm everyone down so that Eddie can think straight and get them out of there. What was this plan?

Well, let me say it was ridiculous and I gawked at the page for a while. She decided that, since her father was so obsessed with sex and her keeping her virginity and that his motivation must be that he wanted to keep any and all power out of her hands and sex was power, then she would be rebellious and take that power for herself and have sex. With all six of those boys. YES! All six of them, right then, in the sewer, where they were lost. She got down on her back, took off her pants, in the dark and on the wet floor, and had them all take turns with her, each one at a time. All of the boys seemed embarrassed and a bit unwilling at first, some more unwilling than others. They all needed at least a little bit of encouragement from her to actually get the job done, or even get started in the first place. She seemed a lot less embarrassed than the boys, from what I remember. It was just...odd, because she really lacked any sort of embarrassment at all, even any sort of self-consciousness or second thoughts.

Excerpt from Part 5, chapter 22, page 1036:

She feels powerful: she feels a sense of triumph rise up strongly within her. Is this what her father was afraid of? Well he might be! There was power in this act, all right, a chain-breaking power that was blood-deep. She feels no physical pleasure, but there is a kind of mental ecstasy in it for her. She senses the closeness.

That's where he attempts to make some belated sense of what is going on, I think. But, it falls far short.

It came out of absolute nowhere, and it didn't even belong in the book. It was like he changed everything else before sending it out to his publisher, but forgot to take out that ridiculous part about the sex. It was like it was just slipped in on the off chance a pedophile might want to read the book. These kids were all around 11. Or on the off chance there wasn't enough objectifying of girls as being around solely to be damsels-in-distress until a man is unsure what to do, then she lets him use her like a toilet to calm him down and get him thinking straight again. What the fucking hell is that??

Just thinking about it makes me angry, because there's no rhyme or reason for it that makes any sense! There were definitely sexual undertones and overtones throughout the entire book, but this here just took the cake. And the icing. And the plate it was sitting on. And the table, too! And not in a good way.

There's so much to say about it that I don't even know how to accurately describe it. I think even after a couple of months I'm still in shock over that random placement of weird, sexist, pedophile pandering... 

Also, I have to note that the one woman in the book who was billed specifically as a feminist seemed to have a distaste for men in general (which perpetuates the idea that all feminists hate all men or at least can't be bothered to respect men as fellow human beings and equals), but she was also more worried about her face than she was about the life and safety of her best friend when Beverly's husband threatened her if she did not tell him where Beverly had gone. She even states that that was what she was most worried about when she finally gave up the information she had; her face. This also perpetuates the idea that women are too concerned about our appearances to really worry about anything else that is of dire importance. Obviously, this woman's face not getting scarred up was a lot more important than her friend's life and well-being. I really hope that nobody ever entrusts her with important government secrets, because she wouldn't stand up to five seconds of torture. Especially if it included threats to her face.

Excerpt from Part 3, chapter 12, page 599:

Kay went upstairs and took another Valium. She lay down and waited for sleep. Sleep didn't come. I'm sorry, Bev, she thought, looking into the dark, floating on the dope. What he said about my face...I just couldn't stand that.

Yeah, well, at least its some consolation that she was feeling so guilty and disgusted with herself that she couldn't sleep? No. Not really a consolation at all.

Overall this was actually a good book, even though I did have a good deal to complain about. I would still recommend it for reading, but you should be aware that there will be things within it that will have you biting your tongue and not in a funny or cheeky way (although there's that, too). It goes through a lot of issues in the book, despite the problem with the portrayal of women. There's a great look at fat stigma and fat phobia, a look at racism and anti-semitism, anti-gay prejudice, and the objectification of women. But, there will be things that will make you stare at the book in outraged disbelief. It will definitely not be winning King any feminist awards for his portrayal of women and young girls anytime soon.