The only hell that exists is the one we create for ourselves and others. Carrie White has been abused all her life. Not even allowed to sleep with a pillow, denied all comfort by her fundamentalist mother, taunted and beaten by her relentless classmates, loved by no one: Carrie keeps her head down and slogs through life with deep despair.Until one day things change. She gets her first period in the communal gym showers. She is 17. Being raised by a fundamentalist Christian fanatic, she hasn't the slightest clue what's going on. The other girls react with rabid and merciless bullying, throwing pads and tampons at her naked body.This is when Carrie rediscovers the telekinetic powers she has not used seriously since she was three. She starts to practice in secret. And this secret gives her something she's never had before: confidence. She slowly, subtly starts standing up to her abusive mother. She accepts a date to prom. She defies the rules she's lived by all her life. She wants to be seen. She wants to be heard. She wants to be accepted.Unfortunately for her, certain bullies will not tolerate defiance.So she kills everyone and then herself.I distinctly remember reading this before and after Columbine. After Columbine I think everyone (in the USA, at least) read this book differently.It's important to remember that abusing people has consequences. Bullies seem to think that the people they pick on are weak. They will always be submissive. Then they are surprised when the dog they routinely kick bites them.When the new Carrie movie came out, I remember that the Spanish-language trailer always started with an ominous voice saying: CARRIE TIENE UN DON. Which means, Carrie has a gift. Yes, Carrie certainly does have a "gift", if you want to put it that way. King masterfully creates a three-dimensional view on power: its way of helping you and its way of destroying you.I think it's important to note that in the book, Carrie is not physically attractive. She is fat, covered with pimples, downtrodden, and sweaty. I know why Hollywood insists on cleaning her up and casting Sissy Spacek or Chloe Moretz, but they are really pushing it, especially with Chloe, who looks like a cheerleader. Sissy was not as pretty - but still thin and good-looking. No pimples or fat rolls in sight. King's book makes it much easier to see what was really going on and what a bullied target might really look like. They also make the mother very thin (Piper Laurie and the beautiful Julianne Moore) whereas in the book she is supposed to be ugly and "very large." This is why I prefer book versions to movie versions 99% of the time.King chooses to intersperse news clippings, magazine articles, science journals, trial records and book excerpts throughout his novel. This adds to the realism. He creates a world in which this has happened. An "event" that will live in people's minds for a lifetime (again, in real life we would see this with Columbine). I mean, the numbers are atrocious. Carrie kills hundreds of people and does it with a smile on her face.Carrie is not a hero. She might be the protagonist, but this isn't a magical YA novel where a girl is "special" and "chosen" and then becomes a brave leader and becomes accepted when she finds people who are "just like her" and meets some hot boy who is also gifted. No. This is King imposing his dark mind on reality. This is what might really happen if a bullied, isolated kid is "blessed" with this power. King pulls out all the stops. It's gruesome, it's real, it's gritty, and it's brutal. King does not pretty-up this novel at all.The best part is, you understand everybody. From Carrie, to the bully, even her crazy fundamentalist mother. King allows you to glimpse into the inner thoughts of all the players, holding nothing back from you. He wants you to understand that these people, ALL these people, are human. He carefully crafts intricate, well-rounded characters that are so lifelike you can almost see them breathing.King often makes females his main character. I'm often asked if he writes women realistically. I would have to say no...but he does his damnedest. I would also like to point out that he doesn't write men perfectly either. Instead, King creates his own kind of people. King-people, if you will. It's like the Simpsons. Watching the Simpsons, you know these characters are supposed to be humans. They do human stuff, they look almost like humans...but they are not. They are a little "off" - their hair is weird, their skin is weird, they don't exactly follow the laws of physics... That is how I see King's creations. He writes wonderful, three-dimensional characters. He shows us some of the worst parts of humanity. But none of his characters seem like people I have known or met in my life. That is because they are uniquely "King." (For example, all King characters swear like sailors all the time, no matter who they are. Also, ALL of them have some sort of sexual hang-up - men AND women. Those are just two examples.)Some people may not enjoy King's books because he is such a dark writer. However, I want to stress that King DOES put good, truth, love, and courage into his books. He does not create a bleak landscape without hope (at least not in CARRIE). Instead, he lets us know that while evil may be powerful and frightening, good exists too.The images from this book are burned into my brain, and possibly in the consciousness of the American people - from the book and the many movie versions that have been made.This is the third time I have read this book.This is not King's best book, or even his second best.I like when Carrie is walking around town with a knife buried to the hilt in her shoulder as if she is a Necromonger.In closing, reading this Stephen King book has made me want to lower the star ratings on 90% of my other books. Other authors pale in comparison to Stephen King's master wordcraft. What else can I say? :)
« Hanno fatto del male a Carrie per l’ultima volta. »Carrie, vediamo un po’. Da dove cominciare…A lettura ultimata mi sono raggomitolata sul divano in posizione fetale e, da vera sociopatica, sono rimasta per un pezzetto a fissare il vuoto, un po’ ascoltando le voci alla tv, un po’ scansando le domande di mamma che mi chiedeva che cosa avessi. Poi, qualche minuto fa, sono salita in soffitta a discutere col modem e mi sono seduta un momento sulla sedia girevole di papà e lassù, così sola, sono scoppiata a piangere. Perché Carrie mi ha annullato davanti il tempo, ha spazzato via in meno di duecento pagine lo spazio che mi separa da brutti ricordi, ha cancellato anni di lavoro, di perfezionamento, di evoluzione. E mi ha riportata là, proprio là, nel mio buco privato, al centro di quel piccolo nodo di malessere da cui sembra non si debba uscire mai. Il mio buco privato copre un discreto arco di tempo: la maggior parte della vita, ecco, credo di averla passata laggiù. E ancora certe volte mi domando se ne sono fuori del tutto, se è proprio vero che ho fatto il grande passo, che mi sono inserita nella vita. In ognuna di noi – in ogni donna – c’è una piccola e livida Carrie. Fossimo state pure fortunatissime, volesse il caso che acne, goffaggine e trasandatezza ci abbiano graziato, un momento-Carrie tuttavia dobbiamo averlo avuto. Il momento in cui, guardandoci allo specchio, non ci siamo piaciute. Il momento in cui ci siamo sentite diverse e abbiamo desiderato essere qualcun altro. Il momento in cui abbiamo voluto vincere il nostro cerchio di isolamento e fare il grande passo, uscire allo scoperto, farci degli amici, uscire, dimostrare di essere una volta tanto una persona interessante, una persona che vale. E certe volte abbiamo trionfato e certe altre abbiamo fallito. E siamo ancora tutti qui, tutti tranne qualcuno, perché qualcuno che non ce l’ha fatta, nel vasto mondo, deve pur esserci. E così capita che un piccolo libro possa ricordarci di noi a tredici anni, i brufoli e il seno grosso, i capelli puliti non sempre, i vestiti indecenti. Ricordarci di loro, loro che ci rompevano le cose – perché le cose erano nostre e andavano rotte; i loro pugni e i loro calci, gli sgambetti; le prese in giro in palestra per come correvi, i soprannomi che ti restavano appiccicati addosso, così appiccicati che non riuscivi a staccare da essi la tua faccia. E ancora i motteggiamenti perché ti piaceva il ragazzo più piccolo e nessuno di loro ti si filava. E poi, il liceo, cinque anni di ultimo banco, così nessuno ti vede, così non devi parlare, così nessuno capisce che non hai niente da dire. Gente che si fidanza, gente che riceve fiori, ragazze che vengono bene in foto, ragazze che parlano di cose che non sai e non saprai per molto tempo ancora. Un desiderio impossibile di riscatto, un anelito a una felicità che ci spetta di diritto – ne spetta un po’ a tutti, no? – e a cui pure sembri non approdare mai, mai. Carrie… come si fa a non parteggiare per Carrie? Come si fa a esser sazi del sangue, degli incendi, dei cavi divelti? E allo stesso tempo sapere che la vendetta è un deserto, perché non ti porterà più vicino agli altri, non ti farà meno diversa, ma anzi ti separerà per sempre da loro, una distanza abissale che nulla potrà più colmare. In ‘Carrie’ Stephen King colpisce per la sensibilità, l’acutezza con cui sa sfiorare e descrivere le declinazioni dell’animo femminile in una fase tanto delicata come l’adolescenza. Il vero horror non sta nelle abilità telepatiche della protagonista quanto nello scavo psicologico, nell’indagine di rapporti umani deviati come quello tra Carrie e la madre, gravato da un fanatismo religioso esasperante e vagamente incredibile. E poi, ancora, il legame implicito tra bellezza, sessualità e potere, innocenza e peccato, dominazione e sottomissione. Nozioni confuse, spesso stagnanti a un livello preconscio, che pure sono emerse almeno una volta nell’animo di ognuno di noi. Siamo tutti stati Carrie. Poi, magari, abbiamo avuto l’occasione di non esserlo più. Per un attimo ci siamo sentite belle, per un secondo abbiamo visto la luce in fondo al tunnel, abbiamo pensato « stavolta ce la faccio, stavolta è la volta buona, non sarò più emarginata, non avrò più motivo di aver paura di parlare, potrò essere me stessa, essere apprezzata, potrò imporre la mia volontà ». E forse dal tunnel siamo uscite. Oppure nel tunnel siamo rimaste, il tappeto ci è scivolato da sotto i piedi – era l’ennesimo grande scherzo. Siamo inciampate. E abbiamo desiderato incendiare, abbiamo desiderato che tutto si spaccasse e spaccasse noi con esso. Abbiamo desiderato annullare tutto in un cataclisma, una catastrofe, una catarsi-non-catartica, un falò finale. E ancora eravamo sole, sole fino in fondo, per sempre, irrimediabilmente. Come si fa a non amare, a non compatire, a non aver paura di Carrie, quando amiamo, compatiamo e abbiamo paura di noi per tramite suo?
What do You think about Carrie (2005)?
It’s that time of year again, the sometimes-lovely month of October, and it’s time for my annual visit to Uncle Stevie (this is not a euphemism for anything). Right now, I am just immersing myself in Needful Things, one of his mid-nineties doorstops. But, with all the anti-bullying bru-ha-ha going on in the news right now, it feels appropriate to go back and talk about the book that cemented my annual tradition.I first read Carrie as a freshman in high school, and afterward I went on a Stephen King bender; that’s how much I loved it. High school really is the perfect time to encounter this book for the first time. Carrie takes the average high school experience of misery and loneliness and ups the ante to near apocalyptic levels; after reading this, my high school experience felt like a warm and fuzzy trip to Disneyland.Carrie White is a sad, lonely girl with a terrible home life and no one to turn to. Her mother is a religious fanatic and certifiable lunatic. The kids and teachers at school, with a very few exceptions, range from monstrously cruel to blindly apathetic. The events of the opening scene alone would scar most people for life, and Carrie is even less prepared than most to face the horror of adolescence. King takes an excellent tactic with this book--which was his first published--and weaves the supernatural/unnamed elements of horror with the even more disturbing psychological horrors of being a teenager. Carrie has a special gift ((view spoiler)[ she has telekinetic powers (hide spoiler)]
— ~Geektastic~
I just re-read this, because I noticed that thre is a new version of the movie and Im horrified, so I decided to re-review!Redeux 2012Stephen Kings Recipe for Disasteringredients:1 telekenetically talented teeanged outcast1 sexually repressed , religious fanatic, over bearing, abusive mother3 to 4 teenaged sex obsessed highschool girl bullies1 part time friendmix carefully and wait for first signs of puberty during addition of a sprinkling of water.beat furiously until tears and hysteria bring on full power of telekenetic power.set aside and add more abuse from mother as hormones rage.add a pinch of guilt from part time friend add 2 boy friends, 1 kind good guy 1, not so much, bad guySet up a date for the prom with good guyand a bucket of blood for bad guyfix the vote for queen of the prom let the games begindump the bucket of blood and let the flames risecook everyone ( oops!)sit back and relax to Carly Simons " Nobody does it Better"and enjoy the teenapocolypse!Thank you Stephen King for a Lovely desert.YUMMY!1990-I remember reading this and thinking, those "be-aw-thches " all got what they deserved. This is a case of bullying gone er... Right? I don't know but "you mess with the bull ya get the horns." Every kid who gets attacked by all the cool kids feels like they wish they could do this... Now it's not the right thing to do... But it's jus a book! Carrie is the odd girl, the skinny, plain Jane girl, who doesn't have anything going for her. As a matter of fact everything is going against her. A " holy roller " mother, a flat freckle face and she hasn't even reached puberty. Nor does she have a clue what that entails. And when it does appear... Horrifically ....she is sadistically tortured by her classmates when she is the most vulnerable, naked in the shower after gym class.When she finally makes it home, she in again humiliated by her own mother. Her sexuality attacked, told she is dirty , and made to repent for her" wickedness" . Now that would confuse and freak out anyone. But it seems to put Carrie in touch with her powerful side. This is where all " hell " breaks lose. No matter what other humiliation her classmates have in store for her, she can handle it. They have no idea, of the the real meaning of Shakespeare's line " he'll have no fury like a woman scorned" , but they will find out, on prom night.There have been many copycat stories, but there is only one original.....Carrie!
—Eyehavenofilter
I thought this book was pretty good for being King's first novel ever. But the thing I hated was the newspaper clippings and all that weird shit scattered throughout the book. Granted I had seen the movie before reading the book, but if I didn't know what was supposed to happen in this story I would have felt very ripped off. Why? Because these weird interviews and news bites basically give away the entire ending of this book. They tell you that Carrie killed a bunch of kids at her school and th
—Jason
