![]() ![]() And King still really knows what to do when he gets his characters out on the road. This novel is less a motorcycle than a double-decker bus, but it does handle gracefully. The novel is set in the present day, but potatoes are 'spuds,' coffee is 'joe'.You may start to feel you’re in a ’50s-era cartoon strip. feels antiquated and a bit gamey in other ways. He can access a good deal of genuine chrome-wheeled magic as a writer, but he reaches too often for the canned and frozen stuff, for the dried spices, for word-clusters that fell off the back of a Sysco truck. The right words are all we have in this world, and King too rarely pauses to search for them. buries itself under a self-generating avalanche of clichés. The right writer can convince me to stick around. I don’t care about quests or magic or Vulcan mind-melding. I generally want to smack a (fictional) kid with special powers. That I didn’t is partly a matter of temperament. I read The Institute quickly and painlessly and I tried to enjoy myself. ![]() He gets closer to the realities and attitudes of working-class life in America than any living writer I can think of. His characters are the kind of people who hear the trains in the night. ![]() ![]() a big shank of a book that reminded me instantly of many of the reasons I loved (love?). ![]()
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