Firestarter predates The X-Files by years in its government paranoia intermingled with (super?)natural powers at work. It is also the tale of an eight-year-old girl named Charlene McGee (called Charlie -- and check out the first four letters and guess the in-joke) and her father Andy. Charlie is a pyrokinetic, a person who has the ability to start fires just by thinking about doing it. And The Shop, a shady government agency who performed drug experiments on Charlie's parents (and are the reason why Charlie's powers exist) are now after the father and daughter, bent on using Charlie as a weapon of war.

The novel begins with Andy and Charlie, out of money and literally running for their lives. Vicky McGee - Charlie's mother and Andy's wife - was murdered by The Shop years ago, and they both know how dangerous the government can be. Charlie has been taught since a very young age that her powers are something to keep in check, but Andy knows that there are times when Charlie must use them to protect them, much to Charlie's chagrin. Andy himself posesses a weak mind-control power (another gift from The Shop), which is useful at times but gives him increasingly intense headaches. Charlie doesn't want her powers but must use them; Andy needs his power but it is painful to use. The Shop wants them both, and such are the threads of a wildly exciting novel.

We are given a few glimpses into the enemy territory, as well: the head of the Shop, known as Cap; the weak-willed closet transvestite scientist Herm Pynchot(his final scene approaces King's goriest yet); and the very dangerous and slightly pedophilic John Rainbird, a government killer with his sights set on Charlie.

Such a short description doesn't begin to describe the excitement of Firestarter. Like Christine, this is often described as King at mid-range, but also like Christine, this is not the case. The fireplay in the novel is quite intense and enjoyable, the characters are well-drawn and complete, and the fact that the initial concept of pyrokinesis isn't entirely scientifically implausible makes the novel quiet chilling as well. A good read for those already familiar with King's canon.

Personal Observations

It was strange: I thought for the longest time I had read Firestarter, but found later I just thought I had (the same thing happened later with Pet Sematary and Misery.) When I finally did get around to actually reading it (sophomore year at High School), I loved it. Reading it was similar to reading Carrie and The Dead Zone (and to some extent, It and Misery): you hold your breath waiting for the next "show." The next firestorm. And when it does happen, hold on to your asbestos because, man, you're cookin! King has a knack for the "waiting scene" in that context; like his brand names, his small towns, and his

parenthetical breaks, the intense hold-your-breath power- scene is among King's coolest trademarks.

Movie Adaptation

Okay. How is it that a movie could have a terrific script (in fact, a lot of the movie is word-for-word quoting from the novel), a great cast (and let's face it, Drew Barrymore isn't a horrible actress), and neat-o special effects be so darn awful? It's done right. It has all the correct elements. Almost all the book's scenes are in there. But for some reason, it's like the airport the survivors of The Langoliers find: bland and lifeless. As Spignesi notes in his Stephen King Encyclopedia, the "china plate" speech is cool, but the rest is awful bad. Not reccomended but to complete a collection.

Limited Edition

Phantasia Press issued a gorgeous edition of Firestarter in 1983, and it since has become one of the most sought- after collector's peices in the entire King field. It was bound in asbestos, illustrated with a wraparound cover, and was signed and dated by King on two seperatedays. For some reason, the earlier date is more sought-after. (Even I, your resident King expert, have not seen the needful thing itself; I have, however, seen pictures.) For more info, contact Betts Bookstore, the SK Bookstore.

Dedication

In memory of Shirley Jackson, who never needed to raise her voice.