Tower Analysis
This is the lesson to be learned from the Dark Tower series,
by Stephen King, as I have come to understand it. It is my own interpretation
and your mileage may vary. If you haven't read the entire series of seven
novels, the context won't make sense. Those caveats out of the way, here's the
gist:
Roland Deschain, the primary protagonist, ultimately failed
in his quest. He achieved his objective, yes, but he did not succeed in his
ultimate goal, which was to become a god. Like Icarus, he flew too close to the
sun, to use a more familiar name for Roland's archetype.
So, let's look at archetypes. The Protagonist is a good
place to start, because he is you/me/us. Usually a he, or she, or they, -but
rarely an it, which is also telling, yes? ;) The rough definition is "The
Good Guy." He's the hero of the story, sometimes the narrator, but the one
we are intended to identify with. The one we're intended to learn from, in one
way or another.
Roland Deschain's story is a familiar one, which is what
makes him an archetype. The beginning is usually truncated a lot, because we
all know that the story doesn't get good until the hero is at least able to
walk and talk and do stuff, right? Up until the age of reason, which is also
-coincidentally? - almost universally recognized across cultures as the onset
of puberty and sexual awakening. At that point in any good story, something
happens to the Protagonist's comfortable world, triggered by a Call to Action
from a trusted authority figure.
What follows is something so ingrained in our collective
subconscious mind that nearly every epic tale follows the same pattern: The
Hero’s Journey. Gilgamesh was the first in recorded history, and there have
been literally millions of such stories ever since a nameless Babylonian
storyteller chronicled the adventures of the titular character. Neo. Roland
Deschain. Luke and Anakin Skywalker. Dorothy. Sally and Gillian Owens. Essentially,
the Hero must go somewhere and do something for a great Cause. There are many
obstacles, and as many friends to help out, along the way. Ultimately, the Hero
either succeeds, and we have a happy ending, or he fails, and we have a tragic
ending. When the story ends with a tragedy, we don’t get the Homecoming part of
the story, either. It’s just a bad scene all around, man. Icarus failed. As did
Oedipus, Sisyphus, Elphaba, and Roland Deschain.
Now, Roland does reach and enter his precious Dark Tower,
and ascends to the top. Spoiler Alert! However, upon reaching the pinnacle of
the Tower, he is sucked through a doorway, and planted right back at the
beginning of his long, strange tale, where we first met him: right at the edge
of the desert. The first and last line of the series are the same: “The man in
black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.” Stephen King
pointed out, in the author’s notes at the end of Everything’s Eventual, that he
has an idea that hell “may be repetition.” Although he was referring to “That
Feeling, You Can Only Say What it is in French” in that case, the same could be
said for poor, eternally damned Roland Deschain. He became a monster, perhaps,
in attaining his prize by sacrificing the lives of innocents: Jake, twice,
Eddie Dean, and even Oy. Susannah was spared, even got her own happy ending,
her own version of Heaven, if you will.
However, there is a promise made to Roland, just before he
starts out on his quest yet again: “This is your promise that things may be
different, Roland – that there may yet be rest. Even salvation. If you stand.
If you are true.”
He has the Horn of Jericho now, and the scent of roses,
faint in the nothing-smell of the vast desert. Those things, and a promise,
that he will inevitably forget. These things give him hope, as they must have
given Stephen King hope, and as they have given me hope.
Thanks, Steve. You’re a good guy, even if you are warped.
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