Bag of Bones
If you ever look through lists of horror and suspense novelist Stephen King’s best books, you probably won’t find his 1998 work Bag of Bones. Despite its generally positive reception among readers and critics, Bag of Bones tends to get forgotten in favor of the likes of King’s classics The Stand, It and The Shining.
King’s brand of fantasy horror stories is typically driven by the imminent threat of some unimaginably ruthless beast out for blood. And admittedly, Bag of Bones has that in the vengeful spirit of Sara Tidwell, a woman whose son was murdered while she was being raped.
But Bag of Bones is one of King’s scariest stories because it evokes a sort of tangible terror into which he doesn’t often dive. Rather than relying entirely on the paranormal and psychotic villains that have become the lifeblood of his popularity, King employs more accessible personal and societal evils that plague the book’s protagonist, Mike Noonan.
The creepiness builds slowly. When Mike first returns to his summer home in TR-90, a town named after its map coordinates, the townsfolk all greet Mike rather cordially yet provincially.
TR-90 appears to be the archetypal small town, with its neighborly, welcoming denizens uttering their polite and reserved condolences. Sara Laughs, his lakeside cabin, seems nothing more than a quaint summer home full of knick-knacks and fond memories.
Cue dramatic music.
Suddenly, Noonan starts hearing things in his house when he’s alone at night. Max Devore, a millionaire tech tycoon who also lives in TR-90, almost drowns him in the lake. Haunting dreams and visions torment Noonan’s days and nights.
These alone would make Bag of Bones a fun King story, but the absolute helplessness of Noonan’s predicament makes it terrifying.
At first, it appears Noonan’s troubles are confined to Tidwell’s spectral disturbances and Devore’s psychopathy. But as a dementia builds over the town, Noonan’s friends and acquaintances, to whom readers are introduced at the beginning of the book, slowly become warped and tortured clones of themselves. That’s when we see the truth of Noonan’s situation.
The change is gradual, remaining behind the scenes for most of the book. What could be mistaken for the side characters’ natural mood swings soon spirals into a murderous mob of townsfolk who, possessed by Tidwell’s madness, chase Noonan through town.
This is how King pins you where you’re most vulnerable. The people who seemed so inane rear up and bite you before you see them coming. Noonan’s once quaint and comfy home fills with haunting noises and spirits that nearly compel him to drown a 3-year-old in a tub of water.
The terror that builds in Bag of Bones is far more visceral than any monster or murderer. In the daylight, Tidwell’s ghost becomes a sheet with holes cut out for eyes, but the heart-pounding rush of being helplessly surrounded doesn’t fade.
