1960. 1966. 1983. 1999. 2000.
Low Men in Yellow Coats
When the paperback copies of Hearts in Atlantis first came out, I was eager to read it. At that time, Stephen King had not yet written the final Dark Tower books. Those three novels, which were just three short years away, would be written back-to-back to complete Roland's quest. King might have known he would write them in succession, but I'm not so sure. He has said that everything he wrote during this period was turning towards the Tower. It was clearly on his mind and flowing out of him. Hearts in Atlantis, Black House, Everything's Eventual, From a Buick 8 - all of them had become related to the Dark Tower in one way or another.
When I opened the book to the first story, I was intrigued by the Low Men. They were something new and strange, as if "from a world other than this", as Jake would say. The Low Men, who would return in the later Dark Tower books, were more frightful in this book (at least in my opinion). They were regulators in yellow dusters, wearing the skin of men to hide whatever lay beneath, and carrying the eye of Sauron. Their cars were not just gaudy, chromed land cruisers with dice - they were alive. However, it's important to note that, despite these elements, this was not a typical horror story.
First, there was the opportunity to meet Bobby Garfield and Ted Brautigan. I liked them immediately, and my affection grew as the story progressed. I worried for them, especially Bobby, who was dealing with the known and unknown fears of childhood. In just a few short days, Ted, a stranger with a heart of gold, had become a father figure and a friend to Bobby, someone he hadn't realized he needed so desperately. Now, on this recent reading, I found myself worrying for them all over again, and I loved the story for that.
“A week from now, I won't remember what was so neat about him. A year from now, I'll hardly remember him at all.”
Was that true? God, was that true?
No, Bobby thought. No way. I won't let it be.
Hearts in Atlantis
Hearts. Of course, it's about love and feelings. Unexpectedly, there's also a little card game named Hearts. All three aspects are seen through the eyes of Pete Riley in his first year of college. A character from the first story makes an appearance in this second one. The twelve-year-old life of Carol Gerber is now a distant six years in the past, along with the 1960 America, replaced by the fervor of the mid-60s. How could I have forgotten a majority of this story? Must be the passage of time again. This is a heartfelt story by King. Sentimentalism permeates this story, as it does much of this book. There may also be a few things from King's own past within these pages. Certainly, he knew about young hearts, a game called Hearts, and the prevalence of the Vietnam War. Once again, horror doesn't really apply here, except for the fear of dying across the sea and the loss of love.
Blind Willie
If you're keeping track of the years, Vietnam should be long over, but in this story, it's closer than ever, living both sporadically and constantly in the memories of Willie. This is the third story to feature the boy William Shearman, and the first time you hear the name Blind Willie. Climbing a ladder, Willie leaves Bill one floor down to enter his other self, the Harwich of long ago, and the regrets that are more complicated than they seem. This is the only story in the collection that doesn't quite click with me.
Why We're in Vietnam
It's Sully's turn to remember one horrifically painful day "in country", and how war changes everything. It changes more than one life, that's for sure. I had forgotten about "Old Mamasan". She haunts Sully, and has been since that one day in Vietnam. To understand, you'll have to read it, of course. Mostly, this is a story about "trying to get through fuckin' life". The closing pages are wild and a little wondrous. I appreciate the adult Sully far more now.
Heavenly Shades of Night Are Falling
The book opens with Bobby and closes with Bobby. It couldn't be any other way.