TW: child abuse

The Shining by Steven King and Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson are both essentially about love. The former centers on a love torn away from a small family, the later affections between sister and brother, husband and wife, and amongst friends. Both novels are also coated in a thick film of abuse, a sticky residue that, for me, made them both far more difficult to read and also (perversely) a bit more difficult to put down (greater emotional investment, I guess). They eventually diverge in the ways that might be expected of entries in their respective genres, but with a few wrinkles. Both start in media res, with the relationships between the characters of interest already quite developed and worthy of exploration.

The Torrances

Jack Torrance is a bad father. This cannot be understated. A complicated figure, surely, caught up in generational cycles of abuse, alcoholism, and supernatural predilections to violence, but a bad father nonetheless. He also loves his son. Danny, whose eponymous magical power gives him the ability to read minds, knows this for a fact, and he loves his father dearly in return. When Jack arrives back into Boulder from his job interview at the Overlook Hotel, Danny “went to his daddy and buried his face in Daddy’s sheepskin-lined denim jacket and hugged him tight tight tight.” Danny goes on to exclaim “I love you daddy. I been waiting” (p 49). When Danny has visions of the future, which he at that point knows are very likely to occur, he opts to dismiss them because he refuses to believe his father capable of such horrific acts.

One of the very first events recounted in The Shining is a blood curdling act of abuse that hangs over the Torrence family throughout the novel. When Danny is just three years old, he completely ruins his father’s only manuscript for an in-progress play. In a fit of drunken rage, Jack breaks Danny’s arm. Wendy (the final Torrance) then rushes in, rightly terrified and enraged. She does not leave Jack, but the idea literally hangs in the air for months. Danny, discussing his shining, explains that “the memory of the DIVORCE thoughts was clear and terrifying. It had mostly been around his mommy that time, and he had been in constant terror that she would pluck the word from her brain and drag it out of her mouth, making it real. DIVORCE” (p 39). She does eventually gain the courage, but as she’s winding up to ask, Jack asks for a one week reprieve. During that week, he quits drinking cold turkey, never again lays hands on his son in anger, and generally cleans up his act. The family still suffers from Jack’s reckless impulsiveness and knack toward violence, but until the climax it is not directed at them.

In fact, the family seemed to have reached something stable, something good. Wendy, indulging in some post-coital, pre-trip-to-the-hotel reflection, narrates “Love was over, and her man was sleeping beside her. Her man… her smile was both rueful and pleased, because the phrase her man summoned up a hundred feelings” (p 64). “Love was over” is such a lovely double-entendre. It can mean that they had lost what originally kept them together, but there was something new that kept them bonded. She later sums up her feelings thusly: “Most of what she believed centered around her love for Jack. She has never stopped loving him, except maybe for that dark period immediately following Danny’s ‘accident.’ And she loved her son. Most of all, she loved them together.” She also explains “If their [family] was to be destroyed, it would not be destroyed by any of them but from outside” (p 79). Wendy had seen the change in her husband, and she decided to trust him, continuing to love him. Since this is The Shining, it doesn’t end well, but I don’t think it is naive or misguided. It is admirable, and I think that King agrees.

Siblings and Spouses

Reen is a bad brother. This cannot be understated. He taught his sister Vin as a young girl that anyone can and will betray you, and drove the lesson home by abandoning her to an abusive crime boss (p 33). She had even begun to rationalize it, sternly thinking to herself “I never thought he’d actually go - and that’s exactly why he had to leave” (p 59). He also beat her, another thing that Vin rationalized: “[Camon’s] beatings almost didn’t hurt anymore, for Reen’s frequent abuses had left Vin resilient” (p 48). Reen did teach her how to survive on the streets, but many of the skills he imparted could be interpreted as self-serving, i.e. burglary and impersonation (p 140). On the bright side, whenever someone needed to be killed in conducting their criminal enterprise, Reen always did it (p 263), perhaps to guard some semblance of her innocence? Ultimately, he instilled in her a horrific impression of how the world worked - when Vin is trying to figure out why Kelsier and Marsh, two brothers, don’t get along, she is unable to conceptualize a conflict between them that doesn’t involve beatings and power struggles (p 170).

Kelsier, the other protagonist of the novel, has a very different outlook. He is a leader, and his teams operate trust; he claims “people serve on my crews because they want to, and I’m effective because they can rely on one another. No distrust, no betrayals” (p 171). He attempts to maintain an air of carefree joviality, despite tragedy and deep betrayal in his recent past. Before the events of the plot, he attempted to rob a rich and powerful foe, the Lord Ruler, and lost his wife, Mare. Vin wonders how he could possibly laugh with such honesty despite this fact (p 79) even before learning that she betrayed him, leading to his subsequent capture and torture. In spite of this betrayal, he still carries on her dream of a world as it should be - with green plants and a yellow sun (as opposed to the brown and red of the world of Mistborn). He sees in Vin the daughter figure that Mare so desperately wanted, and tries to pass the dream down from dead wife to stand-in daughter (p 301).

Vin is puzzled by Kelsier’s ongoing attachment, so he explains it to her thusly: “do you stop loving someone because they betray you? I don’t think so. That’s what makes the betrayal hurt so much - pain, frustration, anger… and I still loved her. I still do… I think given the choice between loving Mare - betrayal included - and never knowing her, I’d choose love. I risked, and I lost, but the risk was still worth it. It’s the same with my friends…” (p 301). I believe that this is incredibly admirable of Kelsier, but I also believe that his ability to feel this way is a benefit of his relatively privileged upbringing. Unlike most of the skaa - the toiling underclass of this world somewhat akin to serfs - he had an easy upbringing, the illegitimate son of a nobleman. Kelsier was allowed to grow into a better adjusted man, much more capable of forgiveness in the face of the tragedies that befall him. Vin, on the other hand, was a product of incessant hardship and abuse. It is totally understandable for her to reply to Kelsier’s heartfelt, pained monologue (I elided some ellipses) with “that sounds foolish.”

The Set Stage

I was fascinated while working my way through these texts (coincidentally approached simultaneously) that the horror novel seemed less gritty and dark than the fantasy one. Both incorporate supernatural elements, but The Shining is far more grounded in reality. I found myself reading it less than 10 miles away from real locations mentioned explicitly, such as the Table Mesa shopping center in Boulder. The abuse depicted in The Shining is perhaps not as gruesome as that in Mistborn, but the realism makes it very hard as well. It is remarkable to me, therefore, the extent to which both works explicitly discuss love. Throughout the backstories of both texts, love is shown to be something that endures. Despite abuse, despite betrayals, despite moments when it is overpowered by other emotions, it endures.

As the plots progress through rising action and climax, one might expect their tones and messages to diverge in the tropes of their respective genres. The fantasy novel should resolve its conflicts and the heroes should win, and the horror novel should descend into gut wrenching terror and end in tragedy. This is mostly what happens, with a notable exception - their attitudes toward love do not follow this trajectory. Instead, they are both not just affirmed but doubled down upon.

Overlooking

The latter parts of The Shining are a descent into Wendy’s greatest fear - an outside force trying to drive a wedge into the Torrence family. The Overlook hotel (or the mysterious evil force behind it) slowly erodes Jack’s connections to reality, and thus to his family. Its initial strategy is picking at old wounds; one of the ghostly residents strangles Danny, whose shining makes him more easily affected by the hotel, and leaves him with bruises around his neck. Wendy, noticing this, immediately concludes that Jack did it, since he’s the only other person in the hotel. When met with her accusatory stare, he claims “I never touched him… [not] since the night I broke his arm…” Wendy, panicked and rightly focused on Danny’s immediate safety, replies “that doesn’t matter right now” to which Jack cuts her off “This matters!… it matters goddamnit, it matters!” (p 356). When Danny finally is able to explain what happens, he says “Oh Daddy Daddy, it was her” (p 537) referring to the ghost. Though Jack does not for a second believe that his wife had harmed Danny, he does take the opportunity for some smug gloating.

The hotel also takes advantage of rationalizations. Jack knows that the best thing for Danny is to get him and the rest of the family out of the mountains. However, he knows that if he abandons his post, the family would be left destitute. He also selfishly weighs that the time at the hotel is probably good for his writing career. When he suddenly sees his son out in the snow, trying to make a snowman, he thinks to himself “What in the name of God were you thinking of? … Me. I was thinking of me” (p 410). His love for his son is ultimately trumped by what he perceives to be his own rationality, so he sabotages their snowmobile, the only way to safety.

Later, while the haunting of the hotel becomes stronger, Jack and Wendy are awoken by party sounds and the elevator moving from floor to floor. She begs her husband “Jack, no. Don’t.” When he goes to investigate anyway, claiming that it was his job, Wendy replies “Fuck your job” (p 442). It is clear that Jack is again rationalizing away the direct wishes of his family with the idea of providing for them. Wendy soon reflects “Oh we are wrecking this boy. It’s not just Jack, it’s me too, and maybe it’s not even just us. Jack’s father, my mother; are they here too? Sure, why not? This place is lousy with ghosts anyway, why not a couple more” (p 479). She is talking here about the generational cycles of abuse that the Torrence family - from both sides - was bogged down in. In a way, this is a statement about relationships in general; every relationship is haunted by ghosts, often ghosts of parents. Just as abuse can be passed down, however, so can love. Wendy’s father was supposedly a loving presence in her life.

Once Jack is completely corrupted, essentially losing his agency, Wendy comforts Danny “I know you love your daddy. I do too. We have to remember that the hotel is trying to hurt him as much as it is us” - and she actually believes it (p 550). Even after Jack’s initial attack, when they lock him in a pantry, Danny is moved to tears by the thought of his father having to use the bathroom. Danny’s child-like capacity for love and forgiveness is astounding. This is, in fact, how he survives. At the height of the horrific action, Danny’s love is able to temporarily break Jack’s trance - “suddenly his daddy was there, looking at him in mortal agony, and a sorry so great that Danny’s heart flamed within his chest. The mouth drew down in a quivering bow” (p 632). Jack instructs his son to run away, but Danny merely grabs his fathers bloody hand and kisses it. Eventually, the hotel takes control of Jack again, essentially killing him in the process, but love had bought enough time for them to survive.

The book concludes with a conversation between Danny and Hallorann, his mentor figure and rescuer. Hallorann instructs him “That’s your job in this world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what” (p 658). I believe this to be the thesis of the entire book. Danny is an innocent child, then a less innocent child, but he never becomes jaded. His unconditional love comes easily, but it is still held up as the thing that makes life worthwhile, the direct opposite of the force governing the hotel. His love may be the model, but the real hero in this area is Wendy. She fights hard to maintain her love for Jack, until the very end. However, since she’s an adult, she’s also responsible for the second part - to see that she gets on, no matter what. She does what she needs to do to protect herself and her son, but that spark of love is never fully extinguished.

Elend and Misunderstandings

Elend Venture becomes a much more central character as the trilogy goes on, but in Mistborn he is mostly relegated to Vin’s love interest. Like Vin, his is depicted as mysterious and a bit enigmatic, but this quickly shifts to loveable earnestness and intolerance of injustice. He is (kinda) the only nobleman depicted in the entire series that speaks out against the oppression of the skaa, spreads radical political theories like representative democracy / opposition to theocracy, and generally bucks social conventions. Interbreeding between the two classes is strictly forbidden, so any skaa woman bedded by a noble is murdered shortly after. Elend, the heir to a brutal and powerful noble house, did not realize this until after his father had essentially forced him to sleep with one. He went on the claim that he had never done it again once he found out that they would be killed. The Vin of the beginning of the story would have completely disregarded this claim and run away (honestly not an unreasonable reaction), but at this point, befriending Kelsier and the rest of the crew had shown her that trust is warranted in some cases. Plus, she is coming to love him. The text explains “looking into those eyes - eyes she had always found so honest - she found herself completely swayed. For the first time she could remember, she completely pushed aside Reen’s [sic] whispers, and simply believed” (p 401).

Eventually, Elend decides to dump her - he found out that she was not who she claimed to be, and also wanted to protect her from danger in the upcoming civil war. In the aftermath, she battles against Reen’s [sic] whispers in her head. The voice says “Of course he left you… Of course he abandoned you. Everyone will betray you, Vin. What did I teach you?” - to which she replies “No! … Once this is over, I’ll be able to convince him to come back…” (p 518). She proceeds to stop an assassination attempt on his life, risking everything that the team had been planning to that point. She maintained her meticulously cultivated faith in his good nature and his love for her, which ultimately proved to be correct. When Elend receives a faulty tip that she’s been captured and is being sent to the gallows (figuratively, the Lord Ruler prefers beheadings), he pushes his way through a crowd to attempt to rescue her. When he receives a correct tip that she’s been captured, he marches himself straight to the dungeons attempting her rescue.

Kelsier, consoling Vin in the immediate aftermath of Elend leaving, explains in greater depth his feelings for Mare: “You don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you… it would certainly make things easier if you did” (p 534). This statement catalyzes an incredibly raw and pessimistic realization in Vin - that she loved Reen. Despite the abuse, she loved him, and the most painful thing he’d ever done to her was leave. It is later revealed that Reed did not leave of his own volition. That he, in fact, died protecting her, claiming that she had starved to death under torture (p 636). We also learn earlier that Reen also saved her life, rescuing her from her infanticidal mother. I don’t think these facts excuse Reen’s abuses, but they perhaps explain Vin’s ongoing attachment to his memory.

Toward the end, Kelsier is also given solace with respect to Mare’s betrayal. The case against her was pretty convincing - the only pieces of evidence for her innocence was that she too was eventually sent to be tortured and that she gave up her life for his in the work camp. Kelsier of course, as he said, still loved her, but he did believe that she had betrayed him. However, Vin is able to uncover new facts about the magic system, one of which undermines the entire argument for Mare’s guilt - “Inquisitors can sense our Allomancy even when we’re burning copper” (p 537). With this new information in hand, the story of their capture can be conveniently explained by the fact that Mare had been noticed through magical means, and the Lord Ruler, thanking her for giving them away, was taunting them. Kelsier pointedly moves the conversation away from this topic, not able to engage too deeply due to events in the plot, but he is vindicated in his continued love and devotion.

Conclusion(s)

The texts ultimately obey the tropes of their respective genres. Although the world of Mistborn is a dark one, even at the end of the novel, the character’s beliefs, their trust in each other, and their love are demonstrated to be (mostly) correct. The Torrence family of The Shining is ripped apart, the surviving members (only doing so through luck) end up deeply traumatized. Both texts meditate deeply on love, and I think that the conclusions drawn by each text compliment each other nicely. You don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you, and although it would make things easier, it wouldn’t be better. It is better to feel love in one’s heart than hate - it’s kinda the whole point of being alive - even if it’s complicated. However, harm is harm, love does not make harm acceptable, and things should be done to mitigate it.