Liter'aturday: It Lives

Walking along the icy sidewalks of Olde Londonne Towne recently, I saw one of those styrofoam hamburger containers floating in a puddle. It had popped open and the top half of it was acting like a sail as the Bitterre Winterre Winde blew it hither and yon, and finally into the gutter.

Of course, my mind was instantly transported to the wide, wide world of Stephen King, more specifically to his most awesomest book of all: It. If you've read it (or should that be It?), you'll know why. If not, then why not and what have you been doing with your life?

I can think of no book other than the Bible that can more truly be said to have something for everyone: Love! Hate! Flying Maggots! Adorable Urchins! Regional Pride! A Thing with the Head of a Doberman Pinscher Wearing a Clown Suit as it Offs a Mental Hospital Attendent!

The love apect of the novel alone is so encyclopedic. It has got every kind of love I can think of: puppy/adult, straight,/gay, abusive/saccharine.

C.S. Lewis could have used this novel alone as the basis for his definitive study of affection and spirituality, The Four Loves. Watch this:

Storge - This is the love of the familiar. People with this kind of love often have little in common except shared life experience, which is why it is often defined as family love. Brothers Bill and George who are necessarily separted in their interests by their big age difference yet have what is perhaps the central relationship of the novel are, of course, the number one example in It. But there are lots of other examples: Richie and his parents, especially his mother, who loves him intensely and yet wishes that she could have had 'a pretty little girl she could have understood'; the Losers' Club and Officer Nell, separated by the gulf between child and adult and yet united in small-town familiarity and fondness; Mike Hanlon and the town of Derry itself...

Philia - This is friendship love. Well, yeah, I would say so. You got the Losers' Club en masse and in their individual relations to each other, Henry Bowers and his gang (I know they're bad, but I think they like each other and you can't convince me otherwise), Adult Beverly's galpal Kay who is willing to risk her life for Bev (but interestingly, not her good looks. Feminist-reactionary much, Steve?)... C.S. Lewis defines philia as having its roots in a common interest. And what common interest could be more compelling than a Killer Clown from Outer Space? I can't think of another book I've read (and trust me, I've read a few), that better captures the experience and intensity of childhood friendship.

Eros - This is the kind of love most people think of when they think of love. Mwah, mwah, let's hold hands/crank the Barry White/dress up as giant stuffed animals...whatever the individual is into, it's romance, baby. In It, eros is less important that the other kinds of love, which I find totally refreshing 'cause IMHO people tend to overrate this one's importance in life and literature, but it's there. Y'got Bev and Bill, Ben and Bev, Bill and Audrey, Stan and his wife, Eddie and his mom....Oops, did I just write that? But hey, go talk to Mr. King. It's not my novel.

And, finally, Agape - Yays! It makes me so happy to read about this kind of love, because it is most arguably the most important and yet nobody seems to write about anymore: it's the completely disinterested love of one's neighbour. Jesus love, in other words. Lewis says Agape has nothing to do with that beloved's actual personality or individual worth, which is why some people actually experience it as kind of insulting (ie, 'I don't want your charity!'). Agape is the kind of love that made people risk their lives to save Jews who were complete strangers to them during WWII. It's what makes people donate blood or volunteer at soup kitchens or force their child to go the birthday party of the most unpopular kid in class. It is bustin' with Agape. The Losers all exhibit it in their willingness to give up their lives for their fellow kids, and the force 'Beyond the Turtle' exhibits it in its (Its?) intervention in the characters' lives.

Even more interesting to me though, is the way King uses a kind of anti-Agape. It, the Killer Clown thing, is a personification of this negative force in the way it enjoys pain, fear, death, regardless of whether the character is on Its side or not. In fact, It kills at least as many 'bad guys' as 'good guys', which is puzzling until you realize that this is the exact inversion of Jesus hangin' with taxmen, ho's and pharisees.

Even more poignant than the supernatural element though, is the anti-Agape of the townspeople. Again and again, King presents adults who have both the power and the opportunity to intervene favourably (even life-savingly) in the lives of children and choose not to do so. Why? Because they fail to see the children as their responsibility.

Perhaps the best example of this is the almost throw-away story of Dorsey Corchoran. In this brief interlude within the larger story, we meet an abused kindergardener whose teachers are aware of his danger but unaccountably fail to do a thing about it. When I read It as a 14-year-old, I could not for the life of me figure out why this non-supernatural, seemingly unrelated story was plonked in the middle of the novel. From my current vantagepoint, I believe it's in the center of the story because it's central to the story: demonstrating what happens when people reject Agape creates an incredibly strong imperative for the reader to embrace it (because the alternative is to embrace It).

So, anyway, you don't have to be interested in all this pseudo-philosophico-religious stuff to enjoy It, because it also works simply as a cracking creature-feature. It is damn long, but I heartily recommend it to any and all who have yet to meet It.