Fulfilling her part of their coital bargain, Allie begins to tell Roland the first (but not last) story-within-a-story that characterizes the entire DT series. When Roland puts a hand on her stomach, Allie "starts violently", obviously jittery about the situation ... but it's clearly not Roland she is afraid of.
The Man in Black entered Tull on a windstorm, shaking the town's residents into silent avoidance. His black robe gave him the aura of a religious man, a notion at odds with the crazy grin he wore.
Allie was the only person who noticed him when he first entered Sheb's, the other inhabitants being caught up with Nort's wake, although their treatment of him before his death was not exactly kind. Even the fact that the man was laid out with a sprig of devil-grass serves as kind of a sick joke. This continued cruelty of a man tortured in life weighs heavily on Allie.
Allie's reaction to the Man in Black emphasizes the parallels between the dark man and Roland. She feels a tremendous sexual yearning, although there is a fear mixed into the carnal jolt that is not present when she lays eyes on the gunslinger. As she pours him the "best" whiskey he requests (without even seriously considering giving him the crap she could), he looks directly in her eyes and the pull between her legs grows to a fever pitch. Allie fears her own sexual urges as they apply to the Man in Black, viewing her feelings as a weakness.
When Allie expresses her frustration with the wake (and the attendants' prior treatment of Nort), the Man in Black observes, "It excites them. He's dead. They're not."
Yes, it's fair to say that the Man in Black traffics with death ... and poor Allie does not know how to deal with her own automatic reactions to the power he has, both over her and in general.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Allie: The Adventures of Roland and a Woman
Roland first sees Allie, a once-pretty woman now beaten down by exhaustion and marked by a scar in the middle of her forehead, behind the bar at Sheb's, Tull's honkytonk. He asks if she has meat, and she responds, "Sure," elaborating that it's threaded stock (clearly a lie--one that Roland recognizes, of course) and warning him that it's expensive.
Like the bar's patrons, Allie appears to be resentful of the gold Roland possesses, allowing him to buy three burgers. Allie is cold and distant to the point of rudeness, giving him lumps of salt only at his request (lumps he will unquestionably have to break up with his fingers) and lying to him about whether or not he has bread.
When Roland encounters Nort, the weed-eater, Allie makes "a small moaning sound". After Roland turns over a piece of gold to Nort and realizes that the weed-eater has had some sort of interaction with the Man in Black, the honkytonk empties out; Allie (rightfully) blames Roland for losing a night's worth of business.
When she realizes that she has information about the Man in Black, though, Allie becomes very valuable to Roland. In the universal language that exists between men and women, Allie's anger gives way to "speculation" and "a high wet gleam he had seen before". When Roland does not exactly jump at her implied offer, the gleam is "replaced by hopelessness, by a dumb need that had no mouth."
Allie is a provincial woman who has clearly struggled through life, clawing for everything she has. She is past subtleties and says point blank to Roland, "I guess maybe you know my price. I got an itch I used to be able to take care of, but now I can't." Roland looks at her for a bit, contemplating her offer. What flashes through his mind (that the scar won't show in the dark, that her body is pretty decent, that she'd once been fairly attractive) is completely irrelevant, though ... their subsequent sexual union has been ordered by ka.
The chapter ends with the words, "There was no light to hide their act". What does this mean? Why does King choose to use 'no light' instead of just saying 'darkness'?
And how does Roland's interaction with Allie effectively illustrate his relationships with all women (with the exception of Susan Delgado and possibly Jenna of "The Little Sisters of Eluria")?
Like the bar's patrons, Allie appears to be resentful of the gold Roland possesses, allowing him to buy three burgers. Allie is cold and distant to the point of rudeness, giving him lumps of salt only at his request (lumps he will unquestionably have to break up with his fingers) and lying to him about whether or not he has bread.
When Roland encounters Nort, the weed-eater, Allie makes "a small moaning sound". After Roland turns over a piece of gold to Nort and realizes that the weed-eater has had some sort of interaction with the Man in Black, the honkytonk empties out; Allie (rightfully) blames Roland for losing a night's worth of business.
When she realizes that she has information about the Man in Black, though, Allie becomes very valuable to Roland. In the universal language that exists between men and women, Allie's anger gives way to "speculation" and "a high wet gleam he had seen before". When Roland does not exactly jump at her implied offer, the gleam is "replaced by hopelessness, by a dumb need that had no mouth."
Allie is a provincial woman who has clearly struggled through life, clawing for everything she has. She is past subtleties and says point blank to Roland, "I guess maybe you know my price. I got an itch I used to be able to take care of, but now I can't." Roland looks at her for a bit, contemplating her offer. What flashes through his mind (that the scar won't show in the dark, that her body is pretty decent, that she'd once been fairly attractive) is completely irrelevant, though ... their subsequent sexual union has been ordered by ka.
The chapter ends with the words, "There was no light to hide their act". What does this mean? Why does King choose to use 'no light' instead of just saying 'darkness'?
And how does Roland's interaction with Allie effectively illustrate his relationships with all women (with the exception of Susan Delgado and possibly Jenna of "The Little Sisters of Eluria")?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
John F. Kennedy, Gunslinger
Throughout the Dark Tower series, John F. Kennedy is mentioned as a modern-day gunslinger. You can imagine my surprise when I read the following footnote in Vincent Bugliosi's "Four Days in November", an in depth look at Kennedy's assassination:
"There was one red rose from (Jackie Kennedy's) the bouquet that did not make it into the hospital. Stavis Ellis, one of the Dallas police cyclists who had led the close-tailing presidential limousine to Parkland (Hospital) is among the large crowd of people who have swarmed around the emergency area in back of the hospital. After President Kennedy and Connally have been removed from the limousine, he can't resist the temptation to look inside the car. He sees several puddles of blood on the rear seat and floorboard. Right in the middle of one of those puddles lay a beautiful red rose."
Coincidence? I'm not sure I believe in random coincidences anymore ...
"There was one red rose from (Jackie Kennedy's) the bouquet that did not make it into the hospital. Stavis Ellis, one of the Dallas police cyclists who had led the close-tailing presidential limousine to Parkland (Hospital) is among the large crowd of people who have swarmed around the emergency area in back of the hospital. After President Kennedy and Connally have been removed from the limousine, he can't resist the temptation to look inside the car. He sees several puddles of blood on the rear seat and floorboard. Right in the middle of one of those puddles lay a beautiful red rose."
Coincidence? I'm not sure I believe in random coincidences anymore ...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Dirty Dogs!
In "The Little Sisters of Eluria", Roland comes upon a starving dog with a white cross shape on its chest.
The so-called Jesus Dog is enjoying a snack ... the remains of a young man named James Norman. More specifically (and more disgustingly), the cur is trying to chew through the guy's cowboy boot and ... well, you know. Yuck, right? "Loved of family, loved of GOD" he might have been, but James Norman wound up stewing slowly but surely in an Elurian watering trough just the same.
I'm reading "Black House" (King and Peter Straub) at the moment, and even a longtime King reader like me can still be surprised. The description of another slat-sided canine (twinner to the Jesus-dog, perhaps?) gnawing away on a human foot still encased in its shoe--this time a child's size five sneaker--is eerily reminiscent.
Are these sorts of similarities unconscious on King's part, or is the mirror depiction of the feet of poor James Norman and little Irma Freneau purely coincidental?
The so-called Jesus Dog is enjoying a snack ... the remains of a young man named James Norman. More specifically (and more disgustingly), the cur is trying to chew through the guy's cowboy boot and ... well, you know. Yuck, right? "Loved of family, loved of GOD" he might have been, but James Norman wound up stewing slowly but surely in an Elurian watering trough just the same.
I'm reading "Black House" (King and Peter Straub) at the moment, and even a longtime King reader like me can still be surprised. The description of another slat-sided canine (twinner to the Jesus-dog, perhaps?) gnawing away on a human foot still encased in its shoe--this time a child's size five sneaker--is eerily reminiscent.
Are these sorts of similarities unconscious on King's part, or is the mirror depiction of the feet of poor James Norman and little Irma Freneau purely coincidental?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Tull and "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome": An Odd but Accurate Comparison

When reading King's description of Tull, I had one of those "tip-of-the-tongue" moments. It reminded me strongly of someplace I'd read about or seen before. It's been niggling at my brain for awhile, and it finally hit me: Bartertown in the 1985 film Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.
King describes "leering, empty shanties where the people had either moved on or had been moved along" and "an occasional dweller's hovel, given away by a single flickering point of light in the dark" as where people in the dying (until Roland arrives ... shortly thereafter, of course, it's dead) town do the best living they can.
My brother was obsessed with Mad Max. Because his fascinations quickly became those of my sister and me and because he was older, I spent a lot of time watching Thunderdome. A lot of time. I haven't seen it for awhile, but I well remember the depressing, dying, seemingly close to abandoned outskirts of Bartertown as Mel Gibson in the title role entered the depressing city limits.
King describes Tull as "pass-on-by country" (and, more metaphorically I suppose, "a shoddy jewel in a cheap setting"), and I'd argue that the same can be said for Bartertown.
Interesting that the written word can bring up visions so clear of the fruits of someone else's imagination, all within the human brain ... particularly when you consider that this particular human brain hasn't seen Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome for at least fifteen years and might never have spared it more than a passing thought for the rest of my life had I not been giving The Gunslinger such a close and careful rereading. Pretty amazing, when you think about it : )
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Roland Can Take Anything ... Except the Fact that he Might be Nuts
While taking a pee into Brown's cornfield, Roland's paranoia takes over a bit. He realizes that the Man in Black has drawn him here, had wanted him to stop and visit with Brown. This epiphany leads him to wonder whether or not Brown is actually the Man in Black himself in disguise.
He quickly discounts this notion as pointless and needlessly upsetting thoughts. To think in this way would be flirting with insanity, with someone completely off the deep end, and the "only contingency he had not learned how to bear was the possibility of his own madness."
Why does Roland fear madness in himself? Is it because he's sub-consciously aware that the seeds have been planted, sown, and are ripe for the reaping? Does he feel that madness would prevent him from completing his mission?
I think that maybe madness is necessary for Roland's completion of his mission. Any thoughts?
He quickly discounts this notion as pointless and needlessly upsetting thoughts. To think in this way would be flirting with insanity, with someone completely off the deep end, and the "only contingency he had not learned how to bear was the possibility of his own madness."
Why does Roland fear madness in himself? Is it because he's sub-consciously aware that the seeds have been planted, sown, and are ripe for the reaping? Does he feel that madness would prevent him from completing his mission?
I think that maybe madness is necessary for Roland's completion of his mission. Any thoughts?
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