Hearts In Atlantis (Hardcover)

by Stephen King (Author)

Editorial Reviews

Amazon.com Review
Stephen King's collection of five stories about '60s kids reads like a novel. The best is "Low Men in Yellow Coats," about Bobby Garfield of Harwich, Connecticut, who craves a Schwinn for his 11th birthday. But his widowed mom is impoverished, and so bitter that she barely loves him. King is as good as Spielberg or Steven Millhauser at depicting an enchanted kid's-eye view of the world, and his Harwich is realistically luminous to the tiniest detail: kids bashing caps with a smoke-blackened rock, a car grille "like the sneery mouth of a chrome catfish," a Wild Mouse carnival ride that makes kids "simultaneously sure they were going to live forever and die immediately."

Bobby's mom takes in a lodger, Ted Brautigan, who turns the boy on to great books like Lord of the Flies. Unfortunately, Ted is being hunted by yellow-jacketed men--monsters from King's Dark Tower novels who take over the shady part of town. They close in on Ted and Bobby, just as a gang of older kids menace Bobby and his girlfriend, Carol. This pointedly echoes the theme of Lord of the Flies (the one book King says he wishes he'd written): war is the human condition. Ted's mind-reading powers rub off a bit on Bobby, granting nightmare glimpses of his mom's assault by her rich, vile, jaunty boss. King packs plenty into 250 pages, using the same trick Bobby discerns in the film Village of the Damned: "The people seemed like real people, which made the make-believe parts scarier."

Vietnam is the otherworldly horror that haunts the remaining four stories. In the title tale, set in 1966, University of Maine college kids play the card game Hearts so obsessively they risk flunking out and getting drafted. The kids discover sex, rock, and politics, become war heroes and victims, and spend the '80s and '90s shell-shocked by change. The characters and stories are crisscrossed with connections that sometimes click and sometimes clunk. The most intense Hearts player, Ronnie Malenfant ("evil infant"), perpetrates a My Lai-like atrocity; a nice Harwich girl becomes a radical bomber. King's metaphor for lost '60s innocence is inspired by Donovan's "sweet and stupid" song about the sunken continent, and his stories hail the vanished Atlantis of his youth with deep sweetness and melancholy intelligence. --Tim Appelo

From Publishers Weekly
By "Atlantis," King means the 1960s, that otherworldly decade that, like the fabled continent, has sunk into myth. By "hearts," he means not just the seat of love but the card game, which figures prominently in the second of the five scarcely linked narratives in this full-bodied but disjointed omnibus, King's third (after Different Seasons and Four Past Midnight). The stories proceed chronologically, from 1960 to 1999. The first, the novel-length "Low Men in Yellow Coats," is the most traditionally King: an alienated youth, Bobby Garfield, is befriended by a new neighbor, the elderly Ted Brautigan, who introduces him to literature and turns out to be on the run from villainous creatures from another time/dimension. A potent coming-of-age tale, the story connects to King's Dark Tower saga. The novella-length title entry, set in 1966 and distinguished by a bevy of finely etched characters, concerns a college dorm whose inhabitants grow dangerously addicted to hearts. The last three pieces are short stories. "Blind Willie," set in 1983, details the penance paid by a Vietnam vet for a wartime sin, as does "Why We're in Vietnam." The concluding tale, "Heavenly Shades of Night Falling," revives Bobby and provides closure. Sometimes the stories feel like experiments, even exercises, and they can wear their craft on their sleevesAin the way the game of hearts symbolizes the quagmire of Vietnam, for instance, or in how each narrative employs a different prose style, from the loose-limbed third-person of "Low Men" to the tighter first-person of "Hearts," and so on. With about ten million published words and counting, King probably can write a seductive story in his sleep and none of these artful tales are less; but only the title story rivals his best work and, overall, the volume has a patchy feel, and exudes a bittersweet obsession with the past that will please the author's fellow babyboomersAKing nails the '60s and its legacyAbut may make others grind their teeth.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.

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Product Details

• Hardcover: 525 pages
• Publisher: Scribner; 1St Edition edition (September 14, 1999)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0684853515
• ISBN-13: 978-0684853512
• Product Dimensions: 9.6 x 6.5 x 1.7 inches
• Shipping Weight: 2 pounds
• Average Customer Review: 4.1 out of 5 stars See all reviews (574 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #374,922 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

107 of 110 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars A Book Worth Considering, December 29, 1999

By	Kevin Wohler (Lawrence, KS USA) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

In his final novel of the 1990s, Stephen King has shut the door on his normal assortment of nightmares and created a series of stories that deals with another kind of horror. In Hearts in Atlantis, King writes about loss of innocence, struggles of conscience, and the Vietnam war.

The first thing readers will notice is that Hearts in Atlantis is not a novel, but five stories. The first two are long novellas (which together constitute 400 pages), while the last story is a mere 13 pages long. But all of the stories are interconnected, spanning the lives of four Connecticut youths from their pre-teens in 1960 to 1999.

The first story, "Low Men in Yellow Coats," is traditional King. In fact, the story is something of a companion piece to King's popular Dark Tower series. Here the reader is introduced to three kids, Bobby Garfield, Carol Gerber, and John "Sully-John" Sullivan. Although it doesn't deal directly with the Vietnam war, it helps set the backdrop for the stories that follow.

In the summer of 1960, eleven year-old Bobby takes first steps out of childhood innocence. He begins to see the evil of which men are truly capable, a parallel to the book Lord of the Flies, given to him by his new neighbor Ted Brautigan. But the old man has another kind of evil chasing him. The "low men" are tracking Ted and want him to return to their world, a place where "All things serve the Crimson King."

"Hearts in Atlantis," the second story, changes to a first-person narrative. Pete Riley, a freshman at the University of Maine, and his friends become obsessed with the card game Hearts. Many jeopardize their grades and thus their scholarships as a result, but the real threat is greater than flunking out. In 1966, leaving school means drafted to Vietnam. The story, although told from Pete's point of view, is also about Carol Gerber. She left Connecticut behind her, but has found a new life in protesting the war.

The third story, "Blind Willie," deals with Willie Shearman, a minor character in "Low Men in Yellow Coats." Now a veteran of the Vietnam war, Willie is doing penance for his misdeeds, those from his childhood and the war.

Sully-John attends the funeral of an old army buddy in "Why We're in Vietnam," set in 1999. In reuniting with his lieutenant, they discuss the war and the affects it had on the men who fought there.

It is in this story that the most frightening, most vivid account of the war is relayed. If the other stories were preamble, this is the final climax where the whole book comes together. For Sully-John, haunted by the image of a dead Vietnamese woman, everything after the war has been about trying to "get over." Get over the physical pain, get over the trauma, get over the war.

In the short closing story, "Heavenly Shades of Night Are Falling," Bobby returns to the town of his youth to pay his respects to one departed friend and discover the fate of another.

I really liked the first story, "Low Men in Yellow Coats," but I am also a big fan of the Dark Tower trilogy. The fact that it tied together with the Dark Tower stories made me tingle. I hope to see more of Ted in the future.

The others stories were also good, but not normal Stephen King-type fare. They didn't scare me or give me that creepy gooseflesh sort of feeling, but they made me think. My only complaints would be that "Hearts in Atlantis" (the second story) ran long, and "Blind Willie" has an unsatisfying ending. Is it good writing? Yes. Is it King's best? Probably not. But King tries something different in this book than in his last several books. For that alone he deserves a nod of respect.

When Ted discusses Lord of the Flies with Bobby, he states, "[G]ood books don't give up all their secrets at once." And that's true of Hearts in Atlantis. At first, the stories appear to be a series of glimpses into American life, but there's something else going on here, something deeper.

Atlantis becomes a metaphor for America, literally sinking beneath the feet of its people. The dreams and ideals of the 1940s and '50s become lost in the '60s, as the Vietnam war divides the country. Later, the hippies trade in the ideals of the '60s for junk bonds and cocaine. Now, that generation has nothing to show for it. "What have we done since Nam?" one character questions. We've created video games, trash television, and porn on the Internet. All we like to do is watch. "But there was a time... when it was really all in our hands."

And there are moments in these stories when that is literally true. The image of one person physically carrying another is often repeated, showing heroism of the individual under extraordinary circumstances. Bobby Garfield carries Carol up the street when she is injured. Pete and his classmates carry a crippled student out of the icy rain when he falls. Of course, the quintessential moment of heroism comes during the war when Willie carries Sully-John to a waiting chopper in Dong Ha Province.

In the midst of a story about the loss of a country, we have moments of hope created by acts of heroism of the individual. As we leave the 20th century, we continue to drift as a nation. But in the individual there may still be hope. Hope to carry on.

As Ted Brautigan said, "Consider it. Good books are for consideration after, too."ÿ

64 of 69 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Hail Atlantis!, November 4, 1999

By A Customer

I've been a constant reader of King's since 'Salem's Lot (Gee... I guess that dates me). I've watched with growing wonder the changes in his style, the themes he tackles, etc. And I must say I'm rather annoyed at those who say he's lost his touch or whine because he doesn't write "real" horror anymore (what IS that, exactly?). Face it, folks -- King is one of our greatest, most important writers. He isn't just a "horror" writer, nor is he now trying to be a "literary" writer. For the most part he simply writes plain ol' fiction -- you know, the good stuff, or as he's often called it, "the truth inside the lie." He's an original, and there'll never be another with quite his narrative power again. Yes, his style may have changed a bit (but, hey, I thought life was supposed to be about change), but no one else can turn a phrase so it'll stop your heart the way King does, or write a sentance that's just so damned right it'll bring tears to your eyes. Everyone needs to read this beautiful book about love and loss. The so-called "great American novel" might be a pipe-dream, but after you read this book you may not be so sure. If this ends up being King's last novel, then it makes a fine capstone to a brillaint career. If not, then maybe the best is yet to come. Get well, Mr. King. As I said before, no one writes like you...

30 of 32 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Wow. Crawl inside this book and live awhile., August 14, 2000

By	J. T. Nite "mightybjorn" (Mesa, AZ USA) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

This short story cycle is packed with vivid, real characters that seem like you've known them all your life. King embodies different viewpoints masterfully, plausibly capturing the perspectives of innocent children, college revolutionaries, vietnam vets, and baby boomers.

The first story, "Low Men in Yellow Coats," kicks off the action but is the weakest of this strong set. It's too tied into the Dark Tower series to seem as real as what follows. That said, it's still scary and moving, it just won't be as accessible to those who haven't read the Dark Tower series.

The remainder of the stories concentrate on real people in real situations with only a smattering of the supernatural. That's not to say there's no horror -- Vietnam certainly qualifies -- but this is the closest King's gotten to straight fiction.

What surprises literary types (and doesn't surprise those who've actually read King) is how well he pulls it off. He gives us social commentary, believable, complex characters, and engrossing storylines without a single vampire or undead cat.

I read this book in two sittings, then closed it and wiped away tears. King is not merely a fine horror writer, he's a fine writer, period.