Regardless, they book is quite relevant to my interests.
Synopsis: In the grim and 'fast approaching' future, the new great American pastime is something called The Long Walk. It is a contest, a race of sorts, in which one hundred young male volunteers are challenged to walk non-stop from one end of Maine to the next. North to south, specifically. At the end the last one standing is awarded anything. Anything they wish.
They are given food and water when needed, but they can not stop or slow down. They must keep a pace of at least 4mph. You are given three warnings for falling below that speed, and each warning lasts for one hour. If you get more than three to quick you get a ticket. You lose.
Losing doesn't mean you are just out of the race, however. The Long Walk is sponsored by the new (apparent) supreme ruler of the Universe America, The Major and his various military personnel. The Walk is trailed by a half-track, and guarded on both sides by soldiers. If you can't keep pace, they start calling out warnings. At your fourth warning you are shot. You have "bought your ticket" so to speak.
Elaboration: So, why would anyone in their right mind sign up for to be systematically slaughtered? They are clearly not in their right mind. They are misled first, in that they will be rewarded with anything they could want. Which, apparently to young American men is money, women, and power... Secondly, the way that The Walk's registration is conducted is somewhat shady, and pointless. They'll take anybody, but they act like they won't. And finally, the walkers are treated like heroes. Parties are thrown in their honor, people line the street with signs bearing the names of their favorite walkers, some people bet on the walkers, and they are cheered even in death. In fact, spectators cheer numbly before each Walker is gunned down. There is always a strange mix of emotions afterwards, though. Usually referred to as a 'sexual' kind-of sigh.
Now, if we look at this as some sort of critique of American culture, we can say that the young men are the average ambitious individual striving for that American dream. Money, Power, Women. We could then also say that the Walk is the struggle within American culture to secure part of that Dream for yourself, and the reward is The Dream itself. The crowd is then everything else in, on, or around your path:"Environmental dissonance/noise/atmosphere." It is their to distract, and to urge you on at the same time. To parade the Dream in your face.
I don't intend to try and accurately define the American Dream, but we will describe it thus: A house, a family(male-female, kids, dog, fence), a job. Bullshit. I mean... Digression.
So, first you must qualify for your Dream. You must adhere to and represent cultural standards that are deemed appropriate for those who attain their Dream. You must wear the tie and white/blue collar, but so much more importantly you have to WANT this Dream. You are not sought out. You volunteer. Once you have come forward, then you are assessed. It is not hard to get accepted, really. In fact, you can very well bullshit your way in. They like that. It shows spunk(willingness to manipulate others).
At any rate, you pass, and agree further that you will show up at a specific place and time to do a specific task for some predetermined(or indeterminable) amount of time. It isn't a very hard task. Just pickin' 'em and puttin' 'em down. For hours. Days. Weeks. Years? You start out strong, some lag behind, others don't pace themselves well and hang around front only to drop back later on. Positions are established, friends made, and some even help each other out when things get rough. Eventually people start to drop out. They can't keep pace, and are warned. Bill collector Sergeants start calling, and pointing guns in faces. Saying the authorities will get involved and put holes in you.
All the while everything around you urges you on, and draws you away. Women come and put their hands/lips on you, and you put yours on theirs. It is good, but the Bill-Sergeants tell you, "No!" So, you keep walking. With an erection. If only you hadn't agreed to this damn walk... But, you did, and you knew what it was about. People offer you nice things, like watermelon... Bill-Sergeant says, "That is illegal!" and gives you a canteen of water and some food concentrate.
Someone gets taken out. The cameras line up. Everyone cheers/watches, says, "That's too bad," gives a sigh, and moves on.
At the end you are so tired, , hungry, bleeding, and sad that all of your friends are old and dead that you don't give a shit about anything. In fact, all you can think about is walking. You can't be the last one standing! There has to be someone else... Look there he is! One more. I'm gonna run that son of bitch to the ground.
Or, you can wake up. It's all bullshit, always ways, and always will be.
Further, it is Stephen King. He probably repressed any emotion or though whatsoever in writing this book. I am damn near certain he is a just a gay-hating sadist.
