Carrie book review: Stephen King's terrifying first masterpiece

It's rare for the first novel of a writer who’s been in the business as long as Stephen King to top the majority of the author’s future work, but Carrie is one of those rare debut novels that retains the incredible power it possessed on the day it was published almost 40 years ago. In a way, Carrie encompasses much of King’s early work; it’s dark; disturbing and massively influential. And with a new film just around the corner, what better time to revisit one of the most important works of horror fiction ever written?

Written over a period of just two weeks, the book tells the story of Carrie White, a teenage girl who develops telekinetic powers. But this is no Matilda; Carrie is violently bullied by her classmates and is physically abused by her fundamentalist mother. When Carrie harnesses her power to hurt others, dramatic events are set in motion culminating at her high school prom.

 King himself described Carrie as “raw”, and reading it today it’s obvious why. Compared to the sophistication of much of his later work, the book is often downright unpleasant to read, with grotesque scenes of pain and violence making for excruciating reading. Its clear why Carrie is one of the most commonly banned books in American schools, but if you persevere with the book it’s equally clear that it shouldn’t be.  Like Ian Banks’ The Wasp Factory, for all the novel’s sickening nature it’s truly a gripping read, and for a debut novel King’s writing style is remarkably accomplished, his technique of interspersing storytelling with extracts from books and interviews with the characters being especially effective.

Perhaps more than any of his other books, Carrie's characters generate emotions of the strongest kind. You don't just feel sorry for Carrie, you pity her from the bottom of your heart. You don't just hate her fanatical mother or bullying ringleader Chris, you HATE them. King achieves this not with stereotypes (although he does come dangerously close), but by creating characters that we can all associate with because they exist all around us. In fact, the level of torment taken by Carrie herself is such that by the conclusion we view her prom night actions as being almost justified. Almost.

 At just over 200 pages long, Carrie’s pacing is nauseatingly fast, but rather than making the story feel rushed this actually works wonderfully with King’s brutal, unharnessed writing style. The crescendo leading to the book's shocking climax is superbly orchestrated, with the ending still coming as a surprise despite being heavily hinted at throughout the book.  Because of King’s masterful use of tension, the book is almost impossible to put down and reading Carrie is the work of a few hours, but it leaves behind a disturbing lasting impression. On one level, Carrie is a critique of scapegoating and religious fundamentalism, on another it’s the idea of the huge consequences of a small change. But more than these things, Carrie is a simple yet expertly crafted novel that hooks you in and never let’s go. It’s terrifying, violent and sometimes horrific. And it’s fantastic.

 

10/10