The Dark Tower VI: Song of Susannah (2004)

Burningly it came on me all at once, This was the place!

Concept art for the Dixie Pig. Source.

‘This might not seem like such a big deal to me, except we’ve been haunted by books, haven’t we? The Dogan. The Wizard of Oz. Charlie the Choo-Choo. Even Jake’s Final Essay. And now ‘Salem’s Lot. I think that if this Stephen King is real-‘

Stephen King, The Dark Tower VI: Song of Susannah

Including the Bachman books as individual releases but not the compilation, plus his non-fiction entries, his short story and novella collections, this is King’s 50th book published – it’s about time he turned up to take some responsibility for everything he’s done! With that in mind, the theme of King’s series is made absolutely clear with a visit to grand story maker himself on Turtleback Lane.

The novel takes place over nearly the shortest period of time any King book has ever taken – only Cujo, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon and Gerald’s Game are comparable, and only Dolores Claiborne over a shorter span of time. The pace of the series to reach the final instalment reaches breakneck speed, and there is a certain level of skill it takes for King to still cram in a whole lot of plot, character and action whilst simultaneously setting the stage for the final show. When King is writing less from the hip and puts the work into structure (as he did in It for example), the man really shows the skill he has available to him.

It would be easy for a work like this to lose itself and what made the earlier instalments so captivating in this rush and pace, but King manages to revisit the theme and ensure it is still present in the book. There is Mia telling Susannah (and Detta, who makes a welcome return in her way) of her origins and backstory, as well as John Cullum introducing Stephen King to Roland and Eddie. It is an important motif in the series. The heroes, or those who have lost their way like Mia or Roland, will tell the personal stories, revealing themselves and their nature. Compare this to someone like Flagg, who hides his story away behind universal exposition back in the first book, or the numerous other villains who care not to open themselves to such inspection. To tell stories is to open yourself up to judgement, to be honest and true, and the villains of the series never seem to be able to open themselves to that criticism, truth or vulnerability. Their bravado is what will kill them in the end.

And nowhere is this more evident than with Stephen King’s presence within the fabric of his own series. I have to admit, introducing yourself as a character in your own self-described magnum opus takes balls. Most times I’ve seen it happen previously, regardless of genre, it is more often a self-deprecating cameo intended to poke fun at themselves, just a bit. Though there is an element of that here too, King still does position himself as the saviour of the multiverse! But not without flaws – he is open to his drinking problem, and the ‘journal’ that acts as an epilogue is actually a surprisingly blunt exploration of King’s personal alcoholism and sobriety. It’s not the book’s focus, but that King is so honest and open about it makes for fascinating reading in the context of an ongoing look at his works.

As much as Flagg’s reveal at the end of Wizard and Glass was a Wizard of Oz allusion, I think in retrospect we can see this as metaphorical reveal of the intentions of Flagg, the Crimson King and of Discordia (or is it the Random?) itself. Flagg impersonates the Wizard, revealing himself to be the one behind so much of what has happened throughout the series. And though that remains true, he is not the true author of what has happened, rather adopting others work as his own. He has consistently failed at stopping Roland along the path of the Beam, instead using Roland as his way of clearing his own path to the Dark Tower. Taking credit for others’ work without revealing himself is what will ultimately doom him. Flagg is like a child who when asked what he wants to be when he grows up answers ‘famous,’ without the work, effort or responsibility that comes with it.

Instead, the true author of the series is plainly obvious. After all, his name has been on the cover since the beginning! Within the fiction of the book, Steve King is the actual author of what has happened, for good or for ill. He is a servant of Gan (or maybe the Purpose?), chronicling the tales of the ka-tet in his novels. His death could mean the author’s villainous creations can act with their own agency, instead of the guiding principles and responsibility of ka. There is an argument to be made that this makes the villains more sympathetic in their desire to control their own destiny, if it wasn’t for all the child murder and stuff they’re responsible for. Instead, Roland honouring the will of ka/King is far more honourable, even if it dooms him, because he accepts the responsibility of his task.

King’s appearance is therefore the ultimate expression of the themes of the Dark Tower and himself. In those terms, it’s a bit easier to see why he calls it his magnum opus. The series is about the power of storytelling, examining the tension between order (sobriety, structure, plot, confession, Purpose) and discord (addiction, improvisation, digression, deception, Random) which are summed up in the life of Stephen King, at least as depicted in Song of Susannah. King can be the hero because he chooses and acts accordingly, much like the ka-tet. Yes, these final three novels are ones that exist because the fear King had of leaving the series unfinished after his accident in 1999 (in a way, shirking the responsibility!), but part of what made the series interesting in the first four novels was seeing the evolution of King’s ability each time he would revisit the series and reflect on what was going on at the time. This gets lost somewhat in the mad rush of the final three books, but it is still integral to the series as a whole.

There are many other aspects of the book to enjoy as well – it’s not all thematic ideas, there are fun story things too! King’s allusion to 9/11 is darkly humorous, especially considering this book came out only two years after and must therefore have been written around the time it happened. I can’t imagine what the reaction was like at the time. The Dixie Pig delivers on the horror that has been somewhat lacking at times in the series (those older vampires feeding on the baby are nasty). Splitting the ka-tet after having them so united just a book before adds to the urgency of the events.

The book ends on a cliffhanger, not as large as the one that ended The Waste Lands, but even if it were, the final book of the series was released only a few months later.

Come. Soon we reach the end of the Beam.

Long days and pleasant nights.

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.

At this point, we know that the vampires originally appeared in ‘Salem’s Lot, amongst other stories, and the Low Men (and Women, now) first appeared in Hearts in Atlantis. Callahan also appeared first in ‘Salem’s Lot. The concept of beams were first mentioned in Hearts in Atlantis, and explored extensively in Black House. I won’t mention them again – promise.

The Masque of the Red Death is referenced as a disease that possibly originated from the Crimson King. This story was referenced extensively back in The Shining. Speaking of the disease, beam collapse is implied to have caused the disease, which would help explain Flagg’s presence in The Stand (not that it required explaining) as an agent of the Crimson King. And speaking of Beams, the little ceramic turtle is called Maturin, who we are told is dead back in It, but may have got better since his Beam is still up.

There is an oblique reference to The Eyes of the Dragon, which took place before or during Roland’s grandfather’s time.

Eddie compares himself to a couple of young actors contemporaneous to his time, including Emilio Estevez, who starred in King’s film Maximum Overdrive.

The concept of a dogan is more fully explored in this book, and reminds very much of a similar idea explored in Dreamcatcher, with it being some interior space in the mind you can retreat to in case of an invader. Mia in general is very similar to the process of mind invasion from that book, though certainly not the same species at all.

The magic doors have a technological equivalent. I wonder if the transport device The Jaunt is the same thing. Would explain everyone’s waking reaction to it if you did travel through Todash.

King is marked with a faint death bag, the concept of which was introduced in Insomnia.

In King’s ‘journal,’ he references a number of his books throughout his career including: The Stand (first appearance of Flagg), The Dead Zone (the first appearance of 19), a Bachman book in 1983 which is probably The Running Man, Rose Madder (which bombed apparently, but I liked it!), Hearts in Atlantis (first appearance of Low Men and Breakers), Storm of the Century, Rose Red, Kingdom Hospital, On Writing and ‘Salem’s Lot. When Roland and Eddie meet Stephen, he talks about possibly writing a book about his process… Which he will, with On Writing.

Some other thoughts. Bango Skank has some graffiti, which is such a unique thing I thought it had to be a reference to something. Yet it didn’t ring any bells, not even as some stray graffiti from All That You Love Will Be Carried Away, where Bango would fit right in. According to Bev Vincent, Bango was originally intended to be in The Talisman, before Straub and King cut back on the outline. Straub used him in a story called The Buffalo Hunter. Apparently, King says Bango graffiti crops up elsewhere.

Finally, the edition of ‘Salems Lot‘ mentioned in the book with the printing mistakes is worth $950 in 1977. Today it would be worth considerably more!

UP NEXT: The final approach to The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower.

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