almightyslo 's review for:

The Breathing Method by Stephen King

5.0

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“I looked up at the statue of Harriet White and there she stood, looking stonily away toward the Garden across the way, as if nothing of any particular note had happened, as if such determination in a world as hard and senseless as this one meant nothing… or worse still, that it perhaps was the only thing that meant anything, the only thing that made any difference at all.”

I’ve read Stephen King’s horror work before, and maybe it didn’t stick because I was younger and his books were so much longer and mature than the stories I was naturally drawn to at that age. But I think it’s about time I revisit novels like The Shining or Mr. Mercedes because The Breathing Method had me entranced, completely enveloped into the story and not wasting my attention for a spare second.

I naturally want to draw comparisons to stuff like Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk or Eyes Wide Shut due to the subtle use of magical realism (or just an unexplainable act of God?) and exclusive clubs serving as a front for humanity to explore its innate darkness and affinity for what we deem shameful and immoral, but this feels less twisted and dark than that. It’s not some sick pleasure being derived from the dark subject matter; rather, our characters know that in some way, they want to make meaning of the twisted things they’ve experienced. Deriving meaning from our actions, and life at a grander scale, through our own intentions, creating these definitions ourselves. Doesn’t get any more existential than that.