1922 is a novella by Stephen King. It centers around a small family trying to run a farm in Nebraska: Wilf, Arlette, and their child Henry (who prefers to go by Hank, pleaseandthankyou). The story is written through the eyes of Wilf, who is making an end-of-life confession about the events of the titular year. As he tells it, his wife Arlette owned 100 acres of pristine farming land adjoining the family lot, and she was hell bent on selling it to a slaughterhouse company. Wilf had tried everything he could think of to convince his headstrong wife not to sell the land, but she was done with the farming life and wanted to sell up and move to the big smoke.
So Wilf’s inner Conniving Man (one lurks in all of us, right?) came up with a plan to keep the land. He involved his son in his scheme, manipulating and frightening him using every trick in the book.
Wilf eventually got what he wanted; however it came at a terrible price. A price that gnaws at your gut, much in the way a rat might gnaw, scratch, infect and kill…
As I was reading this book, I was swept away to what life in 1922 on a farm would have been like. No indoor plumbing. Few people have cars. No telephone or even electricity in this particular farmhouse. Days tending to corn and cows, nights listening to the sound of the wind in the fields. A Sheriff that knows all that is happening in his town. Any injury is life or death. Neighbours are not just people you nod to, they are folk that you rely on. Life was smaller and rugged and simple and hard. It’s hard to imagine that it was only 100 years ago. As I read this novel, I was lounging in bed, reading by the light of a lamp. I had two corgis nestled at my feet, not to help me farm but merely because I enjoy their company. My sheets were soft and linen, and I had a ceiling fan cooling me down. If I experienced even the slightest discomfort, I could dim my lamp, pull up my duvet, or turn down the speed of my fan. My bottle of clean tap water was never far from reach…
I really enjoyed this dark little window into the past. It was just the right amount of spooky for this long-time Constant Reader.
All in all: 4 gnawed off cow teats out of 5.