“Trisha turned back toward the slope, and then turned around again as the worst idea of her life came to her. This idea was to go forward instead of backtracking to the Kezar Notch Trail. The paths had forked in a Y; she would simply walk across the gap and rejoin the main trail. Piece of cake. There was no chance of getting lost, because she could hear the voices of the other hikers so clearly. There was really no chance of getting lost at all…”
- Stephen King, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
Major League Baseball pitcher Tom “Flash” Gordon had a really solid professional baseball career. Over the course of twenty-one years, with eight different teams – primarily the Kansas City Royals, Philadelphia Phillies, and the Boston Red Sox – he won 138 games, saved 158 more, had a sub-four earned-run-average, and accumulated 35 wins-above-replacement.
If you don’t follow baseball, it’s enough to say that these numbers won’t get you anywhere near the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. Nevertheless, with three All Star game appearances, one standout year – 1998, when he led the American League in saves – and a lifetime spent earning a large income playing a child’s game, it’s hard to say that Flash Gordon didn’t succeed brilliantly.
With all that said, it is very likely that if he is remembered by anyone other than diehard baseball fans, it will be for his supporting role in Stephen King’s The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon.
***
For all his enormous reputation as a horror author, King is a tremendously creative writer. He has done huge, elaborate, thousand-page opuses, and he has delivered extremely short short-stories. His genre-spanning work includes ghost stories, science fiction, dystopian fiction, fantasy, splatter-fests, psychological thrillers, and even some detective fiction. King is not always successful in what he sets out to do, but he is never boring.
The setup for The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon is a deliberate reimagining of a fairy tale, as filtered through the peculiar mind of Stephen King. Nine-year-old Trisha McFarland is on a six-mile hike with her mother and brother, traipsing along the Maine-New Hampshire branch of the Appalachian Trail. She momentarily steps off the beaten path in order to relieve herself. When she finishes, she attempts to catch up by cutting cross-country.
Very soon, Trisha is lost, with only a backpack containing a soda, some water, her lunch, and a Walkman with which she is able to listen to her beloved Boston Red Sox. As she journeys through the wilderness, she begins to sense that something menacing is stalking her. In response, she imagines that her favorite Bo Sox player – the aforementioned and eponymous Tom Gordon – is there at her side.
***
Few novels are perfect in the sense that their plots are entirely free of holes or gaps. King novels are no exception. There is typically a conceit that must be accepted in order to enjoy everything that follows. If you don’t accept it, then it becomes impossible to maintain the illusion of truth, and the magic spell of transformative fiction is obliterated.
In The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, the pill you have to swallow is Trisha McFarland. Specifically, the fact that she is allegedly nine years-old. In deciding to follow a vulnerable child, King ups the tension, and also stretches credulity.
Obviously, Stephen King is a father, and has therefore likely spent time around a nine-year-old. That is not evident from his presentation of Trisha. In her physical abilities and situational logic, she acts like a teenager. In her thoughts, her meditations, her intricate beliefs, her already-vast repository of pop-cultural detritus, and her modes of expression, she is closer to sixty. This isn’t really a question of precocity, which can defy age, but of maturity, which requires the wisdom of time and experience.
Not only is Trisha not an accurate representation of a nine-year-old, but she is an extremely familiar King archetype, a character whose interior monologue is well-lubricated by radio jingles, snatches of music, movie references, and literary allusions.
Quite early into The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, I actually set it down for a day, to allow myself some time to decide whether to proceed. Accepting the ridiculous in a King novel is usually a prerequisite. After all, in his Castle Rock metaverse – which is coyly alluded to here – there are vampire infested towns, a killer demon clown, haunted hotels, and murderous cars. What gave me pause is that this is purportedly grounded in reality. There is a tinge of the supernatural, but it remains at the margins. For the most part, this is a gritty, one-person survival story. If you can’t believe in Trisha, the underlying premise is threatened with collapse.
Eventually – as you can see – I picked this back up, figuring that “bad” Stephen King is still better than most good books by others.
This turned out to be true.
***
In all honesty, I never quite got over the age thing, which is an entirely subjective critique. Because of it, though, I didn’t connect with Trisha’s misadventure on an emotional level. That is to say, since I could not believe in her as a person, or trick myself into thinking she actually existed, I felt minimal investment in her fate. Still, King executes everything else so well that I’m not even sure it matters.
Trisha is the headliner in this drama – with an assist from the Gordon-Spirit – but the true star is the Appalachian Trail. King not only paints the geographical characteristics of the woods, hills, meadows, and bogs, but he gives them texture, and weaves them indelibly into the narrative. Atmosphere is hard to get right, and often times so-called “atmospheric novels” stumble into the realm of pathetic fallacies or rely on the overuse of cliches, such as oppressive fog and brooding clouds.
In The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, you feel the sting of mosquitoes, the bites of midges, and the slimy-cold water of a swamp. You are given a very detailed description of the kind of vomiting and pooping you might do if you drank untreated water. You sense the overwhelming solitude of being somewhere entirely disconnected to your known world. But you also are treated to beautiful and breathtaking vistas, glimpses of a land as it might have existed at the first dawn. There is a relentless, natural brutality present on every page, but also the primal sense of triumph that comes when you reach the top of a ridge or the edge of a forest.
***
Like many King novels, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon is firmly a product of its time, written with an eye for contemporary detail that does not always age well. When this was published in 1999, Tom Gordon was a crackerjack closer, the Boston Red Sox were loveable losers, and Red Sox fans were paragons of a unique kind of faith. Over twenty years later, Gordon is long-retired, the Red Sox are a high-payroll behemoth with four World Series trophies in the 21st century, and Red Sox fans are the most insufferable sports fans in America, and it’s not really close. The ur-meaning of Trisha’s Red Sox fandom no longer plays as it did in bygone days, when to root for the Fenway boys meant overcoming constant disappointment by the sheer dint of blind conviction. Beyond that, I’m sure there are many younger readers who will open these pages, and then pause to look up “Walkman” on their handheld super-computers.
Also, as I’ve already belabored, there’s no way Trisha is nine.
When the creakier elements are set aside, however, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon remains surprisingly solid. I’m late to recognizing King’s genius, and am nowhere close to completing his prodigious literary canon, but I’d put this somewhere in the middle of his output, not close to his best, yet not close to his worst, either. There is a fundamental appeal to stories centering on mankind versus nature. Though I am not sure King got his human right, he certainly nailed the nature aspect.