King + Britney = ?

The Institute by Stephen King—I’ve put it on my ‘books’ educational program for a reason. One has to navigate trends of modern book writing, foreign authors, various styles and genres. It’s not just ‘old stuff’ to be read. Though it falls graciously on my ear.

Just finished Tartuffe. So, my thoughts ‘are singing’, echoing the skill of Moliere. Well, yes. Being modest. By the way, on the whole I can't say that I liked the author and his story, so highly praised and widely recognized by the public. It is obvious that the story is absolutely a down-to-earth one; I must admit that I have understood far from everything; it wasn’t an easy reading at all. Everything is confused and unclear—who is who, what’s happening and why, not to mention ‘where’ at all. I was expecting something ‘lacy’ and amazingly beautiful. But, alas, it turned out to be different. And the ending falls exactly in the ‘trend’ of the recently mentioned Carnegie the Blogger—Monsieur Moliere successfully ‘licked’ the king at the end of his play. And off he went, retiring humbly).

Well, let's get back to the main topic, friends!
First, may I note that when reading the author’s (King’s) work it came to me that I had already referred to his works a long time ago, and to be completely honest, they tired me out even then.
In my early years, still a teenager, I used to read it greedily—everything was amazing and bright, and a mystical fleur and thriller notes added the texts a welcoming taste of unexpected revelations of amazing stories. But the further I read the books of the eminent American, the more they merged into one similar line. They say, it is normal and natural that one or another author sooner or later begins to repeat himself. And even more so, it is not surprising that stylistically each author writes following his own, perhaps, narrow and unique recognizable rhythm. It is quite possible that King can well serve as a characteristic specimen demonstrating this.
What makes me sad even more is that as it appeared to me, King did not get rid of framework and shackles of book-writing template standards, rules and requirements. This being the case, I mean the number of characters—it is impossible to produce less than is required. I cannot explain otherwise the failed, lengthy and boring, completely uninteresting and dull parts of the narrative, which should definitely be omitted, since reading them does not bring forward any positive aesthetic feelings.

IP: The point is, one couldn’t deny the author the sense of humor or sarcasm. an episode noted in King's book On Writing comes to mind immediately, where his babysitter farted on his face… I can't resist the opportunity to quote: ‘In many ways, Eulah-Beulah prepared me for literary criticism. After having a two-hundred-pound babysitter fart on your face and yell Pow!, The Village Voice holds few terrors.’

One thing is clear for sure—King is not a fan of Trump: the epithet ‘asshole’ quite unambiguously indicates this.

The moment about a certain ‘headache-sponge’ in the girl's brain seemed like complete nonsense…
‘The sponge was pliable but firm.
Kalisha. Help me.
With what? What are you doing?
He told her. She came in, tentatively at first. They pushed together. The headache-sponge gave a little.’

I would also make two notes as follows with some conclusions. (1) When children are tortured, our (human) moral bios works unconditionally, and in the Institute everyone is tortured and all the time… It's awful. King refers to this element in the story repeatedly and plays on it. (2) Standards and standards. Manipulative people are all so willing to appeal to the core attitudes of others when they need something. A certain Mrs. Sigsby (one of the heroines of the novel), the tormentor of children, in the blink of an eye calls to the doctor for help being just slightly injured. And the doctor, as a person with normal firmware, experiences moral restlessness when he is called upon to refuse (for tactical reasons) to help the sufferer. And after all, such Sigsbys are often come across in our reality as well.

My final conclusion is as follows. King is like Britney Spears—a great example of mass pop culture. High-quality and well-marketed. But, as Britney should have left on time, having remained with hits in the minds of the masses forever, so does King making a similar mistake—he goes on writing, even though the show’d better stop… I would have thought that all this—some subjective skepticism expressed—is to some extent connected with my personal biased attitude towards the author. He seems sort of a hippy to me. There is no refined high style and depth about him. (However, as I understand it, he does not claim for anything like that at all, does not even hint.) Well, this is just to be completely clear on the subject.

Interesting and useful read to all!

PS Madonna, Michael Jackson, Marilyn Monroe, well, Steve Jobs, …uh, Elvis as a matter of fact! Very different stories of very different people.

The list, of course, is template-obvious, but absolutely visual. Some were more lucky: they ‘left’, at the peak and will stay in the history. Someone stayed much longer than they should have, every day smearing the achievements of the past. It’s a shame. People can't stop in time. Shemyakin accurately noticed (I’ve ‘eyed’ it in the Sobchak’s interview): ‘The man is a jerk …' Good point. Maestro!

It's easy to say, but it's probably difficult, first, to adequately assess yourself, and, second, to decide on such a step—to leave in time. Money is money, but legacy is more important. But, on the other hand, we live only once. And if everything is more complicated? Then we will regret wrong decisions.

Oh, hey! The swing of thoughts is carrying us again!
On, on, and on… Where are you going, then?!
Well, there, to where myself I do not know the way!
Stop! Stay! No words needed more!