NO MORE THAN A DARK PENCIL LINE ON A BLANK PAGE. A HORIZON LINE, MAYBE, BUT ALSO A SLOT FOR BLACKNESS TO POUR THROUGH . . .
A terrible construction site accident takes Edgar Freemantle's right arm and scrambles his memory and his mind, leaving him with little but rage as he begins the ordeal of rehabilitation. A marriage that produced two lovely daughters suddenly ends, and Edgar begins to wish he hadn't survived the injuries that could have killed him. He wants out. His psychologist, Dr. Kamen, suggests a "geographic cure," a new life distant from the Twin Cities and the building business Edgar grew from scratch. And Kamen suggests something else.
"Edgar does anything make you happy?"
"I used to sketch."
"Take it up again. You need hedges . . .
hedges against the night."
Edgar leaves Minnesota for a rented house on Duma Key, …
From the Flap:
NO MORE THAN A DARK PENCIL LINE ON A BLANK PAGE. A HORIZON LINE, MAYBE, BUT ALSO A SLOT FOR BLACKNESS TO POUR THROUGH . . .
A terrible construction site accident takes Edgar Freemantle's right arm and scrambles his memory and his mind, leaving him with little but rage as he begins the ordeal of rehabilitation. A marriage that produced two lovely daughters suddenly ends, and Edgar begins to wish he hadn't survived the injuries that could have killed him. He wants out. His psychologist, Dr. Kamen, suggests a "geographic cure," a new life distant from the Twin Cities and the building business Edgar grew from scratch. And Kamen suggests something else.
"Edgar does anything make you happy?"
"I used to sketch."
"Take it up again. You need hedges . . .
hedges against the night."
Edgar leaves Minnesota for a rented house on Duma Key, a stunningly beautiful, eerily undeveloped splinter of the Florida coast. The sun setting into the Gulf of Mexico and the tidal rattling of shells on the beach call out to him, and Edgar draws. A visit from Ilse, the daughter he dotes on, starts his movement out of solitude. He meets a kindred spirit in Wireman, a man reluctant to reveal his own wounds, and then Elizabeth Eastlake, a sick old woman whose roots are tangled deep in Duma Key. Now Edgar paints, sometimes feverishly, his exploding talent both a wonder and a weapon. Many of his paintings have a power that cannot be controlled. When Elizabeth's past unfolds and the ghosts of her childhood begin to appear, the damage of which they are capable is truly devastating.
The tenacity of love, the perils of creativity, the mysteries of memory and the nature of the supernatural--Stephen King gives us a novel as fascinating as it is gripping and terrifying.
Eigenlijk wilde ik zowel Cujo als Duma lezen na de verhalenbundel Duistere Zaken, het werd Duma.
Ondanks alle kritiek die ik soms heb op de boeken van King vind ik hem een grootse schrijver van verhalen over gewone mensen in ongewone situaties. Bij de bibliotheek denken ze daar anders over. Een exemplaar van Duma moest ik uit het archief halen, Cujo hebben ze helemaal niet in het bezit.
Duma is het boek dat King schreef na Lisey's Verhaal. Die laatste heb ik tot drie keer toe geprobeerd te lezen maar er valt niet doorheen te komen. Het is in mijn ogen King's poging om literatuur te schrijven, mooie zinnen maar het ontbreekt aan spanning.
Duma is gelukkig beter. Voldoende vaart, voldoende spanning, voldoende karakterontwikkeling. En ruim voldoende muziek.