At the start of autumn, after a day-long rain, a sunny morning can follow. Just like Outsider, after King’s horrors, it ends—it’s awkward to say—with the hero’s confidence that everything will now be fine.
The Outsider, a stranger, a creature from folklore nightmares—despite the mystery of his nature, everything about him is clear. He wants to survive, feeds on the pain and moral suffering of his victims, and savors their grief for dessert. A banal set of traits for another “bogeyman.”
But what drives people who consider themselves normal, decent, and friendly to act like moral cannibals?
To suddenly hate a person they’ve known and respected for years. To redirect that hatred toward his family.
Yes, the crime committed in the city is horrifying. But the suspect’s guilt hasn’t been proven. What about the presumption of innocence? Who listens when the “human factor” speaks? And so accusations and arrests unfold in the most public way. Law enforcement dismisses doubts that occasionally arise. The media—well, what is there to say about them? Neighbors and acquaintances, who initially don’t believe the accusations, start “remembering” that they noticed something suspicious. The scariest part (for now) is that the hero realizes—this story will never end for him and his family. Even after acquittal, there will be articles, videos, ruined reputations. In his memory—images, broken relationships, and threats. In a conversation with his lawyer, Terry asks if he believes people will change their minds. A psychologist would probably add: “And what will they do with themselves afterward?”
Yet it turns out the main paradox doesn’t lie. Edgar Allan Poe and the American Gothic tradition depicted pain largely as metaphor. “But if you remove all metaphors, what’s left?... The unfathomable.” (c)
What if you truly want to stop evil? Then it’s time to ask yourself: “How much longer will he ignore the anomalies constantly surfacing in this case, calling them insignificant?” (c)
But the evil you’ve committed yourself can’t be stopped. All that’s left is to return to the beginning with thoughts: “What if I had acted differently?” To see the case through and realize that in the tally of victims, the “bogeyman” lags far behind people with an astonishing score.
“No one will ever take away his face,” the protagonist is certain at the end of the book.
After reading the book, the reader’s relief intertwines with a sense of incompleteness. It’s characteristic of Stephen King’s works. As for Outsider, perhaps because we lack the moment when the character takes responsibility for his future. That is, the character’s confidence that he himself will never again allow anyone to take away his face.”
