Everything on the Surface to Make Clear What's Beneath
From “Premium Harmony,” by Stephen King:
He saves up and pays a friend in South Carolina to ship him a dozen cartons at a time. They’re twenty dollars a carton cheaper in South Carolina. That’s a lot of money, even in this day and age. It’s not like he doesn’t try to economize. He has told her this before and will again, but what’s the point? In one ear, out the other. Nothing to slow down what he says in the middle.
“I used to smoke two packs a day,” he says. “Now I smoke less than half a pack.” Actually, most days he smokes more. She knows it, and Ray knows she knows it. That’s marriage after awhile. That weight on his head gets a little heavier. Also, he can see Biz still looking at her. He feeds the damn thing, and he makes the money that pays for the food, but it’s her he’s looking at. And Jack Russells are supposed to be smart.
He turns in to the Quik-Pik.
“You ought to buy them on Indian Island if you’ve got to have them,” she says.
“They haven’t sold tax-free smokes on the rez for ten years,” he says. “I’ve told you that, too. You don’t listen.” He pulls past the gas pumps a parks beside the store. There’s no shade. The sun is directly overhead. The car’s air conditioning only works a little. They are both sweating. In the backseat, Biz is panting. It makes him look like he’s grinning.
“Well, you ought to quit,” Mary says.
“And you ought to quit those Little Debbies,” he says. He doesn’t want to say this, he know how sensitive she is about her weight, but out it comes. He can’t hold it back. It’s a mystery.
In Stephen King’s collection of short stories, The Bazaar of Bad Dreams, King provides a foreword before each story. He comments about “Premium Harmony” that his reading of Raymond Carver stories influenced the style of his own fiction created at that time.
“[Carver wrote in a manner where] everything is on the surface, but that surface is so clear that the reader can see a living universe just beneath,” King says in his foreword. “I loved the American losers Carver wrote about with such knowledge and tenderness.”
So how does King reveal the living universe of “Premium Harmony”?
1. Sentence structure. The phrases in this passage and throughout the story are brief. The maximum count is about 20 words. That happens only once. Everything else hovers around 10 words. These blips occur in descriptions of the environment (“There’s no shade.”), the environment’s effects (“They are both sweating.”), the reality of finances (“It’s not like he doesn’t try to economize.”), escaped thoughts (“’Well, you ought to quit.’”), and much in between.
2. Specific mentions of place and brand. The Quik-Pik: It’s not uncommon to see convenience stores exist in low income areas. Little Debbies: The style of snack cake shows what you can afford (think Little Debbie vs. Entenmann’s). Indian Island: Reservations are often lower-income areas, suggesting that the area nearby where Ray and Mary live is also lower-income.
3. Focus on vices. King makes Ray and Mary’s universe more personal by bringing their primary vices, cigarettes and snacks, to the forefront. Ray has “got to have” his cigarettes, Mary makes you aware. Ray knows how attached Mary is to sweets that it’s an automatic response — he’s thought about this situation before — for him to mention her vice by name and consequence: “And you ought to quit those Little Debbies.”
Each part of this style builds upon the others. Working together, they give you the foundation on which to understand the primary struggles of Ray and Mary’s life together.
Those primary struggles, their financial situation and, in a broad way, the quality of their marriage, is on full display here.
You see the couple’s personal financial hardship primarily through the lens of their vices. Ray talks about how he can save money by buying cartons from a friend in South Carolina. He also callously mentions the Little Debbies as something that could be left unpurchased to save them a few dollars. The surface-level consideration of those goods, however, sits opposed to the reality that they could be a few packs of cigarettes or desserts away from being unable to pay their bills.
The mentions of place help you understand the possibility of — or lack of — becoming financially stable. You understand already that they are hurting for money. If you then live in a place where there isn’t a lot of opportunity, like the kind of place where the Quik-Pik is a feature spot, the pit of their disadvantage grows deeper. Not only are they walking a thin wire, the path in front of them may never widen.
Finally, the sentence structure gives you a deeper look into the type of people Ray and Mary are. I feel like this is much more subjective than my previous points. However, what I see from the quick prose of the story is a relation to quick and destructive thought from the characters.
Again to reference the narrator: “That’s marriage after awhile. That weight on his head gets a little heavier.” This isn’t Ray thinking, exactly; the narrator is third-person observer. Yet the narrator is reliable, and combined with the finality of everything else happening in the story, this statement about Ray and Mary’s relationship feels decided. It feels inescapable. It feels like it won’t be questioned, like the ‘facts’ that the Jack Russell is “supposed to be smart” or that “‘they haven’t sold tax-free smokes on the rez for ten years.’”
At a glance, these comments and observations might look like just something that people say. But when they become baked into your life, the opinions and ideas become unchangeable. Their financial situation is what it is. Their marriage is what it is. Their dog is what he is. Ray won’t stop smoking. Mary won’t quit her Little Debbies.
Ray and Mary might be decent people at their core. You certainly need to see some goodness in them to feel sympathy for their situation. Still, it feels like they’re stuck in their own way of being. Change is hard, and the outlook is grim, so they will carry on, unaltered until something forces them to act.