Book Review: Rose Madder [Stephen King]

RATING: I am woman, hear me roar.

Inspiring. Empowering. Yep, that's by Stephen King.

The first Stephen King book I’ve ever read was “Christine” in sixth grade. I was instantly hooked, and I’ve been reading King’s works for more than ten years now. Call me morbid, but I absolutely love what’s going on inside the guy’s head!

It’s popular misconception that Stephen King is just a horror writer. Au contraire; most of King’s work spans across genres. Rose Madder is one such example – while it has signature Stephen King gory scenes in it, I wouldn’t exactly classify this as a horror novel. Psychological suspense? Could be. A story of love and hope? Oprah, you missed this one for your book club.

Rose McClendon-Daniels has endured fourteen years of abuse from her cop husband Norman. She’s been through a miscarriage (prompted by Normie, of course), and endless beatings, but it takes one drop of blood on the bed sheets to make her realize that she has had enough. She takes a little of her husband’s money and runs off to start a new life of her own.

However, being shut up in Norman’s world for fourteen years has made our Ramblin’ Rosie as innocent as a newborn babe. With very little money and nobody to run to, Rose is lucky enough to meet a string of kind strangers who helps her on her way to a new life. In just a few months, she has landed a decent-paying job, got a place of her own, lost weight, healed both physically and emotionally, and has started to fall in love again.

However, she can’t stop looking over her shoulder, expecting to see him there. And right she is, for Norman, who can’t get over the fact that Rose got away from him, is obsessively bent on hunting her down. And this is a cop that's very good at finding people.

One day, Rose finds a painting in a pawn shop. It depicts a woman in a rose-colored chiton, looking towards the horizon. It actually isn’t even a very good painting, but Rose finds herself strangely drawn to it. She is inspired by the woman in the painting, and is empowered by this mysterious figure. Rosie finds strength she doesn’t even know she possessed.

Meanwhile, Norman is closing in on her. His insane rage leaves a string of violent deaths- of people who has helped Rosie- in its wake. Rose McClendon, determined that nothing would destroy her life again, must stand against what terrifies her most: her husband.

Nobody tells a story like Stephen King does, and nobody creates living, breathing characters better than he does. Each character not only has a unique voice, but different accents as well. And this book screams women empowerment as well, which would definitely appeal to a feminist like yours truly.

The only thing that didn’t sit right with me were the EXTREMELY long exchanges between the woman in the painting (whom I have baptized as Foxy) and Rose. Foxy plays a bigger role in eliminating Rose’s problems than you might expect. The paranormal aspect is classic King, but in this case, the explanations and interactions between woman and painting felt a little too draggy for me.

Kudos to King on using mythology - the reference to the Minotaur and the Labyrinth played off what Rosie was going through quite nicely. And Normie as a minotaur? Hah! Perfect :D

King's narrative is so well-written, it sucked me into Rosie's world and made me go haywire with a rollercoaster of emotions. I wanted to strangle Rose for being such a pathetic idiot, but I couldn’t help cheering her on as well. I practically melted in the scenes with gentleman biker Bill, and I felt suffocated by Norman’s presence in the story. I am disgusted yet fascinated with Psycho Norman who is the main character in the gory scenes. *chomp chomp chomp* I particularly loved the scene where Gert, the big momma self-defense teacher of Daughters and Sisters leaves a lasting mark on our Normie dearest. *grin*

Rose Madder is a beautiful story. It is a story of desperation, madness and death, but also of hope, kindness and the celebration of life. And that is what I loved most about it – the striking contrast between the elements of the story. After all, the deepest, darkest desperation only serves to tremendously emphasize the tiniest ray of hope.