Revival

Once upon a time, Jamie Morton would have told you there was no such thing as destiny. Now, as he tells us in Stephen King's sizzling new title, "Revival," he knows better.

The man who teaches Jamie this (in a novel which, as someone who has waded through countless verbose and protracted pages penned by the reigning horror king, I can testify to being riveting and tightly controlled) is Reverend Charles Daniel Jacobs. Part jilted ex-clergyman, part grieving widow and father, part mad scientist, Jacobs has been in Jamie's life since he was a little boy. Not consistently, mind you, albeit inevitably; Charles is Jamie's "fifth business," or "the joker who pops out of the deck at odd intervals over the years, often during a moment of crisis." More than that, if Jacobs' obsessive tinkering with electronics and possible resume of mystery "cures" are what he says they are, Jacobs is a man who has found access to a hidden energy. "Secret electricity," he calls it. It's a connection to another world.

After leaving Jamie's New England town in the wake of a professional outburst prompted by a personal tragedy, Jacobs disappears from Jamie's life for years. Before his departure, however, the Reverend does something for Jamie's family: Jacobs uses his secret technology to restore Jamie's brother Con's voice, which he had lost completely in a fluke skiing accident. Later, after Jacobs goes on to perform many such procedures on his ardent fans and believers (or should we call them victims?), and as Jamie begins to investigate, he refers to what Jacobs did for Con as ground zero - his very first miracle.

In addition to exhibiting the masterful knack for crafty time jumps and prolonged suspense that made King what he is, "Revival" is prime evidence of the writer's ability to not only adapt to the twenty-first century, but also play on its inherent fears. More impressive is his astoundingly not-awkward integration of YouTube videos and Internet searches, something that many books and films still stumble over with perplexing difficulty, considering how ubiquitous these technologies have become in our everyday lives. In a way, for this reason and others, "Revival" at times seems more in the wheelhouse of Chuck Palahniuk ("Fight Club"). If you enjoyed the ominous scene changes and tantalizing foreshadowing, twisted characters, religious commentary, cross-country scope and underdog narrator present in "Revival" (which, at a mere 403 pages, is short for King), Palahniuk's "Lullaby" and "Invisible Monsters" might be good places to go next. Especially "Lullaby," if you find yourself feeling as curious about secret energies as Jamie and Jacobs themselves.

What "Revival" manages to be, other than an assertion of the fact that you can be prolific and still continue to create great work (if not every time), is an exploration - if not an indictment - of the nature of belief. As such, the book forces us to ask the question: What really is the difference between a pastor, a witch doctor, a carny a scientist, a reverend, or a rockstar, if we find ourselves wanting to believe in them? And, if we also find, personally, that that belief helps us, even only temporarily, does it matter?

"Revival"
Stephen King
Scribner
$30.00