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(You lost your temper again, Jack.)
Haha
Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish.
he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family.
Instead he had made that damned senseless call, lost his temper, antagonized Ullman, and brought out all of the hotel manager’s little Caesar tendencies. Why? If it wasn’t an effort to get himself thrown out of the good job Al had snagged for him, then what was it?
Untreated alcoholism
grown-ups were always in a turmoil, every possible action muddied over by thoughts of the consequences, by self-doubt, by self-image, by feelings of love and responsibility.
Every possible choice seemed to have drawbacks,
“Don’t take me to Gramma’s,” Danny said through his tears. “Please, Mommy, I don’t want to go there, I want to stay with Daddy—”
So he has to take some responsibility for what happens.
the road belonged more to the caribou than it did to them. Now the things that men had made up here were neutralized. The caribou understood that, she believed.
she had cried a little, trying to rid herself of the awful pent-up feeling that sometimes fell on her like a large, pressing hand over her heart.
He had found some odd things tucked in among the invoices, bills of lading, receipts. Disquieting things.
Awine
the blue and twisting jungle carpet.
Danny stepped into the bathroom and walked toward the tub dreamily, as if propelled from outside himself, as if this whole thing were one of the dreams Tony had brought him,
the cold, ice-rimmed water
Haha
the Overlook had enchanted him—could
His relationship with his father had been like the unfurling of some flower of beautiful potential, which, when wholly opened, turned out to be blighted inside.
Simile
Love began to curdle at nine,
“Now. Now by Christ. I guess you’ll take your medicine now.
puppy.
medic...
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cane
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knew exactly how many blows it had been because each soft whump against his mother’s body had been engraved on his memory like the irrational swipe of a chisel on stone. Seven whumps. No more, no less.
Permanent scar, gets peeled off by his u treated alcoholism and the Overlook’s “manager.” Foreshadowing
clocksprings
a dreadful batter all in ferment, rising on the wings of yeast, the breath of taverns… snap of bone… his own voice, mewling drunkenly,
PUN!
Happy Jack frequency.
Happy Hour frequency.
Tommy
(Medoc,
It was his father’s voice. “—kill him. You have to kill him, Jacky, and her, too. Because a real artist must suffer. Because each man kills the thing he loves.
Foreshadowing
pup.
cane
medicine.
You have to kill him, Jacky, and her, too. Because a real artist must suffer.
it was not right that he should come back,
No. It’s not. But what should Jack do about it? Untreated alcoholism.
Now there was only the snowmobile in the equipment shed to link them to the outside world.
Foreshadowing
There were puffy bruises on his neck and just below his chin.
bewilderment
she saw his true face, the one he ordinarily kept so well hidden, and it was a face of desperate unhappiness,
bewilderment
the sweet taste of horror flooded her mouth.
His eyes were soaped windows.
Simile
It was as if he had taken a very mild mescaline hit.
Had he maybe hurt Danny as Wendy thought? Tried to strangle his son at his dead father’s request? No. He would never hurt Danny. (He fell down the stairs, Doctor.) He would never hurt Danny now. (How could I know the bug bomb was defective?) Never in his life had he been willfully vicious when he was sober. (Except when you almost killed George Hatfield.)
T-shirt was damp,
Jack’s hands,
had been dry.
(And the Red Death held sway …)
