In this final installment focusing on Stephen King’s 2009 novel Under the Dome, we find that the story reveals an individual and collective ability to justify one’s actions in the name of piety and collective good. The very person callously responsible for instigating unrest is the person deflecting the blame and absorbing the credit, the very opposite of the window and mirror maturity exhibited by truly gifted leaders.
Under the Dome, as in our American culture, a central theme is justice versus injustice. We despise Big Jim’s character, not because he is a "conservative Christian" in name but not action, not because he is a used car salesman, not even because he is selfish in so many ways. To despise him for this might be to admit shortcomings within our own person.
We despise him because in King’s narrative storytelling, we’re given a chance to see behind the scenes to the actual events, and see injustice being served. Big Jim is the face of every abusive father, every mean-spirited teacher, every child that grows up torturing his pets, and every elected official who loses track of the "servant" part of "public servant." He is an unjust man, and King appeals to our inherent desire to see the bad guy lose in the end.
Throughout the final chapters, King repeatedly focuses on an unsettling proposition: at some point in our lives, we have all either been the person giving or receiving abuse. His narrative portrays a picture of the helplessness that a victim feels, a picture of the helplessness to stop the abuse and of the regret and shame which accompanies it.
Surprisingly, King contends, this is a feeling shared by both the offended and the offender, and he seems to argue that the actions of the offender will eventually return to haunt him. The manner in which each character accepts this proposition seems to correlate with their demise or survival. Those who accept responsibility for their actions seem to be at peace with themselves even into death. Those who will not admit their guilt it seem to leave this world suffering, either at their own hand or at the hands of others.
Without surprise, a lot of King’s characters die during this story, victims of their own and others’ decisions. Once the book closes, he leaves his audience challenged to take stock of their own lives, and reflectively ask themselves how they have abused or been abused, and how they’ve come to terms with their part in the events of their own lives. Peace, it would seem, may come in the form of our individual acceptance of our faults.
Under the Dome, as in our American culture, a central theme is justice versus injustice. We despise Big Jim’s character, not because he is a "conservative Christian" in name but not action, not because he is a used car salesman, not even because he is selfish in so many ways. To despise him for this might be to admit shortcomings within our own person.
We despise him because in King’s narrative storytelling, we’re given a chance to see behind the scenes to the actual events, and see injustice being served. Big Jim is the face of every abusive father, every mean-spirited teacher, every child that grows up torturing his pets, and every elected official who loses track of the "servant" part of "public servant." He is an unjust man, and King appeals to our inherent desire to see the bad guy lose in the end.
Throughout the final chapters, King repeatedly focuses on an unsettling proposition: at some point in our lives, we have all either been the person giving or receiving abuse. His narrative portrays a picture of the helplessness that a victim feels, a picture of the helplessness to stop the abuse and of the regret and shame which accompanies it.
Surprisingly, King contends, this is a feeling shared by both the offended and the offender, and he seems to argue that the actions of the offender will eventually return to haunt him. The manner in which each character accepts this proposition seems to correlate with their demise or survival. Those who accept responsibility for their actions seem to be at peace with themselves even into death. Those who will not admit their guilt it seem to leave this world suffering, either at their own hand or at the hands of others.
Without surprise, a lot of King’s characters die during this story, victims of their own and others’ decisions. Once the book closes, he leaves his audience challenged to take stock of their own lives, and reflectively ask themselves how they have abused or been abused, and how they’ve come to terms with their part in the events of their own lives. Peace, it would seem, may come in the form of our individual acceptance of our faults.
