THE TALISMAN

The quasi-cosmic, picaresque journey of twelve-year-old Jack Sawyer—across America on foot, "flipping" in and out of a parallel universe called the "Territories"—in quest of a magical talisman that will save his widowed mother (a former B-movie star) from dying of cancer. 

Jack's trek begins on the Atlantic coast, where an old black man at a seedy "Funworld" tells him about the Territories, The Talisman, and the "Twinners" (parallel-universe doppelgangers); and these first chapters recall the murky hoo-hah of Straub's opaque Shadowland—as Jack learns that his nemesis is his dead father's evil business partner Morgan Sloat, known in the Territories as "Morgan of Orris." Still, Jack plunges ahead—walking west but flipping into the Territories whenever Morgan's pursuit becomes lethal. . . and vice versa. In the real world his ordeals include: slave-labor at an upstate N.Y. tavern; harassment from pederasts; dreadful days in a neo-Diekensian "Home" for delinquent boys. In the semi-medieval Territories, he faces tree-monsters and assorted "thing" attackers—but also acquires a devoted, brave sidekick: a werewolf named Wolf, who travels with Jack into the real world. (This 150-page section, midway through, is prime alien-fiction à la King—funny, touching, complete with a Carrie-like outburst of retaliation from poor, sweet Wolf.) And eventually, after Wolf's noble demise, lack reaches the midwestern prep school of chum Richard Sloat (son of Morgan)—who'll reluctantly accompany him the rest of the paranoid-peril way: across the radioactive Blasted Lands on a magical train, then flipping into real-world California. . . where The Talisman awaits ("COME TO ME! COME NOW!") in a black hotel. Fans of King's horror, then, will probably be irritated by the pretentious, verbose, psycho-gothic/philosophical fantasy here—which involves coming-of-age, the Twinner gestalt, the sinful secrets of Jack's dead dad, and heavy good-vs.-evil breathing. (See King's The Stand as well as lesser Straub.) At the other extreme is a lot of King-style sentimentality and jokey vulgarity—with Jack's mind implausibly embracing four decades of pop-culture allusions. 

But, with some gripping sequences along the way and the double-whammy byline, this grandiose, meandering saga—echoing Oz, Alice, and Huck Finn—is sure to reach a massive audience. . . and satisfy about half of it.