Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.
I’d have you see them like this; I’d have you see them very well. Will you? They are clustered around Suzie’s Cruisin Trike, embracing in the aftermath of their victory. I’d have you see them this way not because they have won a great battle- they know better than that, every one of them – but because now they are ka-tet for the last time.
Stephen King, The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower
So ends the journey of Roland and his ka-tet, and King’s journey to the Dark Tower (for now at least).
Having met the author in the previous book, it’s clear how much his voice has been guiding the series, aside from the fact his name is on the cover. The Wizard has been revealed behind the curtain, and as a result he feels a lot more comfortable guiding events along the course he (or ka) has designed.
In this way, the book completes the cycle begun back in the first book not in terms of plot or story but in voice. The first book, though it remains my personal favourite, is wildly at odds in terms of tone with almost everything else King has written. In his afterword, King says this is the fault of a young writer with pretensions and delusions, of grandeur and epic scale at the outset, but taken in terms of the series as a collective whole, the changing tone of the series represents not only King’s growing skills as a writer but Roland’s growing humanity. In the beginning he is cold and terse, and by the series end knows love and family again. He has found connection with humanity, which in itself should be the reward. The ending says otherwise, but we’ll return to that in a moment.
Storytelling has been an important recurring theme of the series as a whole. It is noted that it continues in this book, with Ted Brautigan telling his story before Hearts in Atlantis, the false tales of Rando Thoughtful/Austin Cornwall and Dandelo. The stories are told to build connections, and it becomes clear now at the end that this is what their purpose has been throughout. The power of stories lies in the creation of worlds, imagination, inspiring and scaring, and all those things that writers and critics like to talk about when it comes to the art of storytelling (I’ve certainly spilled enough words and spent enough time in my own way on the subject), but what comes first is connection. The ka-tet’s stories when they first meet Roland way back when are their attempts to build connections in a world strange and new, and in those moments they rebuild Roland’s humanity. It is reflected in the growing humanity in the prose as well, though Roland is bit pig-headed to recognise the growth. A bit like the reader, he is forever bent on the goal of the Tower. The storyteller has his tale, and there must always be an ending.
The storyteller who matters is King himself, and the connection he has is with his story and with his audience. He has sat with this story, on and off, since 19th June, 1970. His Constant Readers have borne the weight with him, and it makes sense that the authorial voice is a character in the book itself. Yes, King is a character in the book, but more importantly is his voice. At times he directly talks to the reader. Now that he has been revealed like the Wizard of Oz, he is more happy to speak out. It is hinted that Gan works through King (and maybe also the unknown Other from It while we’re at it). The final author’s note, where he warns against the reader continuing on, is his most direct interference in his storytelling. Compare this to the authorial voice in The Gunslinger, which is so far removed from King it may as well be Cormac McCarthy writing fantasy, if he had the imagination.
There are subtle hints that Roland and Stephen King look alike, and considering King’s usual writing approach is to let the story reveal itself to him as he writes, it mirrors Roland’s journey to the Tower. The humanity and truth of the story are gradually revealed to King as he writes across seven books, just as it is for Roland on his journey. Though fans may not like it, it makes sense of King going back to essentially re-draft the first book in order to make a more cohesive whole. At one point, he even hinted at a second draft of the whole thing (which may have led to less five-second foreshadowing in places), but is generally content to leave it be nowadays. Hardcore fans may even want to consider the new version of The Gunslinger a different go-round for Roland, where both books can be canon in their similarities and differences.
Which brings us to the endings. When I began the final three books, I noted that there was a definite sense that King was bringing the series in to land. The pace of The Song of Susannah alone is a rollercoaster. But they are still pieces of the journey. Here is journey’s end. Who amongst us, who have read all seven books, did not shed a tear at some point in the book? I get more emotional as I age, and so for every moment of ka-shume I wept: for Eddie, for Jake, for Susannah, for Oy, for those names cried before the Tower, and for Roland. There’s even a scene relatively early in the book where our ka-tet, sensing their imminent dissolution, share a moment of embrace that brought a tear to my eye. It would be nice if we got a jolly ending, where the intact ka-tet reach the Tower and find their own personal treasure. But that’s not what we get.
King is often given short shrift for his endings, and bar a couple of exceptions it’s not something I agree with. However, I can imagine the anger of fans when it is revealed that Gan loops Roland back to the Mohaine desert, seeking the man in black. But I think King delivers two, arguably three, perfect endings for the book. Had Roland called the names of those lost and entered the Tower, I would have been satisfied; had Susannah’s fate in New York been assured, I would have been satisfied; but Roland’s karmic return to the beginning of his journey is sublime.
Many characters meet their end in the book series. The villains will always meet sad pathetic ends. Every single one is introduced with such power, and each whimpers out. Here are just some: Blaine the Mono is defeated by bad jokes, Tick-Tock emasculated, the Wolves of the Calla shot down ini mere minutes, Mordred chewed out by Oy, the Crimson King reduced to hateful eyes… Even King’s ur-villain Flagg is done away with callously, quickly, and forgotten. But though we think of Roland as our hero, he is soaked in blood from the first. He killed his mother, murdered an entire town in Tull, killed Jake, dragged others into his addictive quest. For a hero, he has committed many acts that are unforgivable. We do, but the karmic balance is still out of whack. Were they justified? Did Roland do the right thing in the end?
Why did Roland want to climb the Tower in the first place? It is noted that he only saves the Beams because they will protect the Tower, and ultimately he is only interested in reaching the Tower and climbing to the top. It is almost a villainous deception, in that what noble purpose Roland could be said to have is muddied by personal goals. What does he expect to find there? My suggestion is that he suspects that Gan, is there, and he seeks forgiveness. But forgiveness comes not from Gan, but from within. Had Roland saved the Beam, lived with his ka-tet and Jake as his son, he may have saved himself the purgatorial repeat he finds instead.
That Gan sends Roland back to the start proves to the reader that though the Tower was vulnerable, it was not ever at risk. Roland always succeeds in saving the Tower, but does not save himself. He is, as I am sure Cort would agree, too stubborn and pig-ignorant to realise what he has learned over the course of seven books. The Tower earlier in the book served as a neat metaphor for addiction, but now it becomes sobriety, the forgiveness one must find within to grant him the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference. He was so nearly clean and away, but just cannot quite bring himself to let the story end, even at the cost of everything dear to him. There is hope for redemption. He just needs to work on the wisdom bit. Gan is love, Gan is ka, but Gan is also cruel. It will repeat the punishment for Roland so long as there is space for him to learn from it.
It reminds me a little bit of Alan Moore’s conception of an afterlife in his novel Jerusalem. At its basic level, energy cannot be created or destroyed, and so while there may no be Heaven or Hell, there is the Heaven and Hell we create while we live. There are good times and bad, and we work towards them both. Our reward and punishment at the end of it is that we get to do it all again. Roland gets that very literally. He is, in effect, the architect of his own suffering and salvation.
What could a ‘happy’ ending for Roland look like? Would he cry off the Tower, leave the King imprisoned? Would he find a way to save Eddie and Jake, settle down to lead a life as a father? Or would he gain the Tower with his ka-tet around him? The Horn of Eld being in his possession suggests that things do change slowly for Roland, and maybe this time round on Ka’s wheel it will be different. Who can say?
Well, Sai King – but he has other interests these days.
In any case, the neat thing about the ending is King has built into the series a canonical reason to start the series again from the beginning!
King describes The Dark Tower series as his magnum opus, and though I don’t necessarily agree, it is an impressive piece of work. It’s stretch over time, from 1970 to 2004, encapsulates many of the changes found in King himself, as a writer, storyteller and human being. Though it is good to see the series finished (mostly), it would have been interesting to see how King would have wrangled the series under the relaxed release schedule he had previously. But this is a fitting end to an important chapter of King’s life. It has been a pleasure to share in that journey with him.
Until next time – long days and pleasant… hang on, this is taking us back to-
Observations and Connections
As part of the Dark Tower series, I won’t make note of references to previous books, unless it feels relevant to highlight. Which includes the return of Sheemie from Mejis! He appeared way back in Wizard and Glass, and it’s nice to have him back, however briefly.
The skölpadda of the Turtle is dropped early on into the book and disappears from the story, and reference is made within the text to this being similar to the paper boat from the opening of It. Also similar to It, we are made aware of an Other presence in the book, which is hinted to be Gan of the White (in itself, presumably a reference to Gandalf). Would make sense for that to be King, though Maturin is also a candidate. Maturin is mentioned a fair bit, and that’s not the only It reference. There is the robot Stuttering Bill, the same name as the leader of the Losers from that book, as well as Dandelo who feeds on laughter rather than fear, but is very much of the same or similar species to Pennywise the Clown, amongst a few others.
King’s home by the lake is called Cara Laughs, the twin to Sara Laughs from Bag of Bones. The book retroactively becomes closer to the Tower series, with the nightmare of doors and Mike Noonan being very much King’s twinner. Maybe Mike’s immovable writer’s block in that book is due to the ‘death’ of King in 1999. The dates almost match up, if you squint a bit.
We meet the a couple of breakers, the idea of which was first introduced in Hearts in Atlantis. Returning from that book is Ted Brautigan (who at first mistakes Jake for Bobby Garfield from the same book), and in addition is Dinky Earnshaw who appeared in the short story Everything’s Eventual from the same titled collection. We see some the effects of Black House in this book and their successful attack to rescue the breakers and stop the Crimson King. It’s a wonder that King didn’t include cameos from other characters with similar abilities – Danny Torrence, Charlie McGee, or even alternate versions of characters like Carrie or Johnny Smith.
Patrick Danville is introduced properly, having been mentioned way back as a child in Insomnia as playing a very important role in the downfall of the Crimson King. He essentially provides a rubber (eraser, for American readers).
There are also plenty of minor ones too. Nigel the robot, as he slowly deactivates, mentions that he is reading The Dead Zone, and mentions Greg Stillson by name. Good choice of final book to read. That book was the first appearance of 19 on the Wheel of Fortune, and Johnny has his accident on Flagg Street. Interesting. Nigel has a collection of King books up to and including Hearts in Atlantis. Nigel, Stuttering Bill and Andy are all Asimov robots, named for Isaac Asimov the renowned science-fiction author who created the three Laws of Robotics. When describing Flagg’s past, The Stand is directly alluded to. Walter’s thinking cap he wears to face Mordred came from the Black House from Black House.
Some quick ones:
- Bryan Smith, after hitting King, refers to the Cujo film and It miniseries, which is a great gag.
- Dinky refers to Carrie at the prom, but it’s unclear if it is as the book/film, or as a person he has heard about. She would have been a powerful breaker, had she lived.
- Carrie is also referenced more subtly just before Susannah and Roland’s confrontation with Dandelo, where she recalls having her period during gym and her classmates shout ‘plug it up!’ at her.
- Insomnia the book is an object, but in Keystone Earth differs from the book in our reality. Perhaps Roland’s actions changed how that book turned out.
- Shortly after meeting Rando Thoughtful/Austin Cornwall, there is a direct quote from The Shining‘s repeated refrain, ‘the Red Death holds sway over all,’ itself a Poe reference.
- Speaking of Rando, his death by crows felt very reminiscent of George Stark’s death by sparrow in The Dark Half.
- Susannah’s dreams has a voice say to her, ‘this is NINETEEN! All your friends are dead!’ This almost the same as the ghostly voice on the phone in 1408.
- The Crimson King’s screams are the same as the mad waiter in Lunch at the Gotham Café. I wonder if he was an agent sent mad by the King. Similarly, I wonder if From a Buick 8 is a Low Man abandoning his post after what happened here.
It’s worth noting how often something of some significance happens in a sub-chapter 19.
There are a number of characters left at the end without endings, to an extent. Ted Brautigan, Dinky Earnshaw, Dani Rostov, and Patrick Danville are all characters who it would be interesting to see what happens next to them.
2 Hammarskjold Plaza is a real place in New York! It’s not quite a Dark Tower, but you can see why King was drawn to it. Maybe Ben Hanscom from It had a hand in the design?
One last observation – there is something pleasing in having the Dark Tower surrounded by a field of roses, and the Rose in New York surrounded by towers.
Finally, a couple bonuses. You’ve come this far, why not enjoy a few more?
- Where in the Worlds? – a explanation, or sorts, of the Stephen King multiverse (or at least how I see things).
- The Dark Man – though this book sees the end of Randall Flagg (for now), let’s return to his very beginning.
- So you want to read the Dark Tower – having read the series to its original ending, my take on what you need to read for the series (also paired with The Gunslinger)
UP NEXT: A step back into the box with Kingdom Hospital.
Deeper Thoughts for the Horror Inclined 