🔗 Share this article King Sorrow by Joe Hill Review – A Epic Supernatural Epic Delivers Masterpiece-Level Thrills A group of six quirky but doughty children encounter the path of a vast and terrible paranormal evil that has entered our existence from the deepest abyss of oblivion. They have no choice but to devote their lives confronting it, facing horror after horror in the process. A Resonant Storyline with a Distinctive Twist This outlines the narrative, in essence, of Stephen King’s seminal work It (arguably his finest; no arguments). It similarly frames of Stephen King’s offspring Joe Hill’s latest massive horror novel, in which a band of six invoke the primordial, deeply sinister beast the Dragon King from the Long Dark to aid them in overcoming some baddies. As one might expect, their supernatural ritual backfires. Celebrating a Literary Heritage Joseph Hillström King started his career going to great lengths to remain separate from his well-known dad, using the pseudonym he continues to employ and avoiding meeting his agent (he exhibits a striking resemblance to his dad). Yet with this recent release, he leans into it. There are lines that consciously reflect some of the senior author’s well-known (the famous Dark Tower introduction); a moment that brings to mind a recurring theme in King’s works (a battle of wits). In this whopper of a novel, the author rejoices in his heritage, and we delight along with him. The Cast of the Central Figures Returning to the group: most are students at the made-up Rackham College in this northeastern locale. First is Arthur, studious and gifted, deciphering Old English riddles in his leisure hours; Colin, rich, clever, and prone to trampling those who oppose him; the twin siblings; the attractive Allie herself. And there’s Gwen, who remains outside their academic circle, but becomes a key part of their circle as they dabble, somewhat credulous, partly skeptical, in arcane arts. The Fateful Ceremony Arthur is, as a result of external pressures, compelled to pilfer rare books from his cherished academic collection by a group of neighborhood thugs. This devastates his scholarly soul, especially when he’s made to take the institution’s prized and unsettling work: the logbook of adept this enigmatic character (put to death “for dealing with infernal entities in 1703”; the cover is crafted from his flesh). Our Scooby gang examine the log, discover they could summon what the occultist details as a armored demon” to help Arthur out with his blackmail problem – and spend the rest of the novel reaping the consequences. This ancient entity will certainly eliminate those troublesome local drug dealers, but they’ll have to choose a fresh offering each year or become his victim themselves. As Arthur later puts it: “You sow dragon’s teeth, all you get is further monstrosities.” Narrative Dexterity and Imaginative Breadth Covering a generation, the author shifts with seamless grace through various literary forms: as the allies endeavor to address the circumstances they find themselves in by, in different ways, picking people who are obviously evil to sacrifice, or hunting down ways to slay the beast themselves, we transition from thriller to dark fantasy, clandestine torment to romance to fright. My favorite genre switch was to a heroic journey, within the subterranean depths below Cornwall, a section infused with the Lord of the Rings author that was gloriously terrifying. A Detailed Canvas of Fear and Optimism There are trolls – those living under bridges and online ones, genuinely frightening and perfectly brought to life. The story includes mystic weapons and betrayals, pulse-pounding sequences of bravery and ones of terrible wickedness, both earthly and supernatural. It’s a tour de force: a horror novel that is above all a ode to the imagination, and to love and friendship. “We needed a story to believe and {now we’ve got one|presently we possess it|currently we hold it,” says the wealthy student as the friends gather at the table, preparing to summon their serpent to life with the strength of their collective will. As Hill puts it in his epigraph: “Hic sunt dracones”. Don’t miss them.