Pet Sematary and the Boundaries of Sanity
Book review of the novel by Stephen King
INCLUDES SPOILERS
After reading The Shining, its sequel Dr Sleep and 11/22/63, I was looking for another Stephen King novel with a compelling plot but one not too scary or disturbing to bug me at night. I have no idea how I thought Pet Sematary fit the bill.
A quick review of the plot suggested it was about a family of four (the parents, Louis and Rachel Creed, and their two young kids, Elly and Gage) moving next to a busy highway and a mystical burial ground with the power to bring back the dead - at some, unknown cost. Even without reading spoilers, it wasn’t hard to figure out someone was going to die on the highway and then be brought back to life, but at that unknown, probably disturbing price. And the ‘someone’ would include the family cat and… I didn’t want to think who else.
Sure enough, things unfolded in the way expected. The story was engaging in how it slowly, torturously built up to the climax, by first introducing the family and their daily lives, with plenty of bonding but occasional struggles and arguments too, and then the ensuing events after the family cat, Church, became the first victim of the trucks roaring past on the highway.
When Church is killed and buried in the mystical burial ground at the suggestion of the neighbour (who, it turns out, is under the influence of the supernatural forces controlling the burial ground), he comes back from the dead - only it’s not Church’s real ‘soul’ in his cat body but some unknown entity possessing it. Yes, creepy.
As things escalate, slowly and painfully, it’s hard to believe Louis will do what he ends up doing. Bringing back a cat from the dead - even with switched souls - is something you could maybe come around to stomaching, eventually. Besides, while Church did some weird and occasionally grotesque things after being resurrected, he was on the whole mainly a klutz.
It hit entirely differently when Louis decided to bury a human being. To the point it’s hard to even talk about what he did - and what happened next.
So instead of diving into that, and the moment-by-moment playback of horror as the story headed towards its sordid conclusion, I wanted to discuss the overall impression the novel left on me - and it wasn’t one of horror, but of tragedy.
What makes Pet Sematary truly scary is how realistically it portrays our response to grief and mourning. Notwithstanding the supernatural elements in the book, and how they influenced Louis’ behaviour and decisions, it’s too easy to empathise with his temptation to bring back his son from the dead. It’s too easy to relate to his rationalisations and optimism about the best case scenario if Gage successfully returns. It would be unimaginably heartbreaking to lose a child.
At the same time, going against the laws of nature to gain back what he lost, and in the most gruesome way imaginable, is a devastating thing to witness. In this way, Pet Sematary creates strong narrative tension between the perfectly understandable emotions, desires and motivations of the main characters on the one hand, and the cost of acting on those things - of not accepting death and letting go - on the other. The latter approach is the right one to take, the ‘healthy’ approach, but it’s also incredibly difficult in the present moment when a crisis hits and you’re emotionally or mentally weak.
This leads to the next lesson of Pet Sematary, which is that we take our ‘sanity’ too much for granted. Our mental stability is oftentimes fragile and dependent on our lives being normal and secure. Tough situations are analogous to power, in that we never know how we’ll react until we’re in one. Then everything we professed about ourselves and the world, including our self-concept, values and behaviours, are tested for their actual truth.
It’s easy to comment on yourself and others, and the world, when you’re living a comfortable life. Things can change very quickly, including what you’re willing or capable of doing, when there’s a crisis ranging anywhere between personal tragedy and warfare.
The scenes that hit hardest in this sense were when Louis was teaching Gage to fly a kite before the first real tragedy hits, and then when a friend of Louis’ sees his final fall into madness, with his physical transformation and his hair gone white. This second scene is emotionally powerful because the reader feels the full extent of Louis’ despair and loneliness, and his loss of grip on reality.
While I’m sure not every reader of Pet Sematary was looking for philosophical lessons, it reminded me of the importance of ironing out who you are - your values, principles and ‘code of conduct’ so to speak - before a crisis enters your life. Because crises always arrive, eventually. If we use the easy times to think about these things, we’ll hopefully make better decisions when they count the most, and when we’re able to think straight the least.
Just as important is learning to meditate and ground yourself in the present, which better equips you to respond to events as they happen - to process and accept them, increase your reaction time and choose a suitable response. Easier said than done, obviously, but easier to practise when our lives are comfortable.
These lessons no longer directly tie in with Pet Sematary, but they come to mind following the above train of thoughts and, ultimately, every story can teach us something - in addition to entertaining and grossing us out.
