“I stood there for a moment, first surveying the damage, then glancing out at the mist again. It seemed closer, but it was very hard to tell for sure. If it was closer, it was defying all the laws of nature, because the wind – a very gentle breeze – was against it. That, of course, was patently impossible. It was very, very white. The only thing I can compare it to would be fresh-fallen snow lying in dazzling contrast to the deep-blue brilliance of the winter sky. But snow reflects hundreds and hundreds of diamond points in the sun, and this peculiar fogbank, although bright and clean-looking, did not sparkle…[M]ist isn’t uncommon on clear days, but when there’s a lot of it, the suspended moisture almost always causes a rainbow. But there was no rainbow here…”
- Stephen King, The Mist, featured in Skeleton Crew
When I envision a Stephen King book, I picture a work that can vary in size from a hefty brick (like the mass market edition of The Stand) to a small puppy (such as the hardcover edition of Under the Dome). I recall memories of extensive word counts, elaborate backstories, and side-plot detours that can stray hundreds of pages from the main storyline. More than anything, when I think of King's extensive body of work, I think of excess. Excess in terms of gore, violence, and the sheer number of pages. And frankly, as much as I sometimes complain about King's meandering tomes, that's precisely what I love about him. There is something truly wonderful about getting completely lost in a work like It, where a simple good-versus-evil concept is expanded to lengths that Tolstoy or Proust might have approved of.
Yet, according to his own recollections in the introduction to Carrie, King began his career writing short stories and selling them to various print magazines for a few hundred dollars each. He'd get an idea – invariably strange – and then quickly write a draft in a few days before sending it off to publications that no longer exist.
Normally, I'm not overly fond of short stories. It's a personal preference that I can't quite explain, except for the unsatisfactory feeling of something ending just as I start to become engaged. Nevertheless, having made a small start on King's extensive bibliography, I decided to explore some of his shorter works.
Skeleton Crew is a collection of twenty-two short stories originally published between 1980 and 1985. Although many of the individual selections are relatively quick reads, the entire collection – from cover to cover – is over five hundred pages long.
The headline selection in Skeleton Crew – and the reason I chose it in the first place – is The Mist. More of a novella than a short story, The Mist follows a group of people trapped in a supermarket after being surrounded by a fog that hides a deadly threat. It's quite good, with several excellent sequences. However, I would argue that the movie version is far superior, with its brutally unflinching and unforgettable ending. I suppose I couldn't help but feel that The Mist was both too long and too short. As part of a short story collection, it overstayed its welcome. At the same time, the concept is excellent, and with the potential inherent in a large cast of characters, I would have liked to see it receive the full, big-novel treatment.
Even though I was mainly interested in The Mist, I decided – out of a sense of obligation, really – to read the rest of the stories straight through. As I suppose is true of any such collection, no matter how skillfully curated – and Skeleton Crew sometimes feels rather random – it's a mixed bag.
Surprisingly, my favorites tended to be more science-fiction than horror based. In Beachworld, two astronauts end up stranded on a desert planet that seems to be alive. Immediately, one of the astronauts starts to go mad. Using only a few pages, King is able to hint at a much larger – and potentially extremely interesting – universe surrounding his compact tale. In The Jaunt, King plays with the concepts of time, space, and teleportation, while providing a gruesome twist at the end. It feels very much in the vein of The Twilight Zone, with the addition of King's ever-present willingness to take things to extremes.
King has always had a warped sense of humor, and that's certainly on display in many of the stories in Skeleton Crew. For example, in Survivor Type, a drug-running doctor ends up on a deserted island. In a series of journal entries, he narrates his increasingly desperate efforts to avoid starvation.
Unfortunately, King also has some less-than-desirable literary tricks and tics that appear and reappear so frequently that they start to seem pathological. His treatment of female characters, for instance, is extremely inconsistent and often involves disapproving descriptions of a woman's weight. When he's not shaming women for their weight, King positions them as either slutty temptresses or nagging wives. A story like Word Processor of the Gods, about a struggling writer who has to deal with an overweight, nagging wife, simply doesn't work anymore, if it ever did. It's bordering on cruel and feels like the wish fulfillment of a perpetually self-centered misogynist.
This leads to another recurring theme, that of toxic masculinity. That particular term entered the lexicon around the time that King wrote these stories, but there's no indication that he was responding to concerns about the troubling behavior of certain young men. On the contrary, in Skeleton Crew, there are several stories in which the protagonist is an entitled male filled with murderous impulses that we're implicitly encouraged to cheer. One particularly unredeemable selection features a college student shooting people from his dorm room. (Although this was published long before Columbine, Sandy Hook, and Las Vegas, King was clearly inspired by Charles Whitman's 1966 massacre from atop the tower at the University of Texas-Austin). There's no real point to it, except that it gives King the opportunity to vividly describe headshots and splattered brains. Another equally pointless wallow in depravity follows an ex-college student's violent rampage, with every murder described in loving, leering detail.
In my experience with King, the good and the bad have always gone hand in hand. Even his best novels have problematic parts or sections that haven't aged well. Usually, though, the good outweighs the bad, often by a significant margin. Skeleton Crew has a more balanced ratio. Every story is readable, and even the worst-conceived ones are written with King's underrated skills. Even when the underlying premise is deplorable, most of the stories are effortlessly entertaining. They're also a bit insidious. On the nights when I read Skeleton Crew, I noticed that my sleep was often disrupted by vivid and disturbing dreams. That Skeleton Crew managed to affect my dream life is a sort of compliment.
With that said, the best stories in this collection aren't quite good enough to make you forget the flaws in the worst ones.
Probably more like 3.5/5 overall as a group of stories for me. Each story has its own unique charm and flaws.
The Mist is a truly captivating tale. It builds an atmosphere of intense dread and uncertainty. The way the mist encroaches upon the small town and the strange creatures that emerge from it keep the reader on the edge of their seat. I would definitely give it a 5/5.
The Raft is another excellent story. It has a simple yet effective premise. A group of friends find themselves stranded on a raft in the middle of a lake, and something sinister is lurking beneath the surface. The tension steadily rises as they struggle to survive. It also earns a 5/5.
Gramma is a disturbing and unforgettable story. It delves into the darker side of human nature and the power of superstition. The character of Gramma is both creepy and fascinating. I would rate it 5/5 as well.
The rest of the stories are more like 3/5. They have their moments but don't quite reach the same level of excellence as the first three. However, they are still worth reading.
Overall, I would say that this collection is definitely worth the read for those three outstanding stories alone.
A blend of what I love most about King (which is overwhelmingly the case) and what drives me mad (few and far between). The Mist, The Jaunt, Word Processor of the Gods and Gramma stood out the most to me as amalgamations of wacky, terror-inducing, mind-bending creativity. These stories have the ability to transport the reader to another world, filled with strange and wonderful characters and situations. Beachworld and The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet, on the other hand, sit on the bottom of “not my cup of tea-ness”. They just didn't quite resonate with me in the same way as the others.
I prefer this collection over Night Shift, and I believe I’m in the minority on that, but that’s usually the case with my taste. I delight in what most disparage, and I disparage what most delight in. I’m ok with that. It’s one of the reasons I love King so much. He has something for all tastes. Whether you prefer horror, science fiction, or just a good old-fashioned story, King has it all. His ability to create vivid and engaging worlds is truly remarkable, and I can't wait to see what he comes up with next.