Cujo (1981)

Cujo is one of those Stephen King books that probably has an out-sized notoriety. The name has become virtually synonymous with rabid, or just plain mean, dogs. Most people will know that Cujo the book is about a dog gone bad, and they might even know that King wrote it, even though legend has it that King himself, in the throes of drugs and alcohol, has almost no recollection of writing it. So, I was a little surprised to discover that in many ranked lists, Cujo falls somewhere in the middle of the King oeuvre, well below the other novels written in his name prior to this. I was more surprised to read this book and see it not so much as a violent rabid dog story, but as a compendium of human failings.

As I mentioned in the previous post, Cujo is sold as a story about a dog holding an entire town hostage, killing on a mass scale under the sadistic influence of rabies. This really isn't the case though. Sure you get some high-octane gross-out dog mauling scenes, but the first two victims of Cujo are morally bankrupt and pretty much useless. It is only when you get to the last pages where the sheriff and Tad fall victim (the latter more indirectly) that you really feel like Cujo is a super-villain animal. The real tragedies before the final pages come in the separation and hopelessness felt by family members. Vic is away on a business trip, while Brett and Charity are on a short vacation away from Joe, a handy guy who is awful to his family. Their tragedies are having no idea what is happening to their family while they are away. Furthermore, they are actually in many ways glad to be away based on what they do know. Vic is dealing with the fallout of Donna's affair with the charming Steve Kemp, and Charity, a surprise lottery winner, is thinking of escaping her miserable home life with her newfound fortune...but can she convince Brett, who takes after his father? What is heartwrenching about all of this is that they have no idea what is happening back home until it's too late. Also heartwrenching is Cujo's fall into rabid insanity. King occasionally makes Cujo the POV character, so readers experience him first healthy and loyal, then sick and confused. It's as if another demon dog overtook Cujo's body. King never expressly makes this the case, but by intertwining the monster-in-the-closet subplot with Cujo's car siege, he leaves the door open to readers wanting some kind of supernatural connection between them, that a monster lives in Castle Rock, be it Frank Dodds, or Cujo.

Cujo is the first non-Bachman book to have no major supernatural plot element. No characters can read minds, cause things to blow up, communicate telepathically, change form, or teleport. This is more the hallmark of the three Bachman books released thus far. However, Cujo is a little more deft than the Bachman books in that it is more willing to crack into the psyche of its characters, in particular Tad and his convictions of the monster in the closet, so strongly held that the narrative actually supports it. Also, Cujo is directly linked to another King novel, The Dead Zone, which is firmly in the supernatural zone, albeit without the explosiveness of a Carrie or Firestarter. Therefore, I would suggest to those that are inclined to dismiss King's use of the supernatural as a crutch that keeps him stuck in "genre" fiction, to give Cujo a closer look. There is really nothing here that couldn't actually happen. Sure, the fears of monsters in the closet and the thoughts of a dog losing his mind are a bit speculative, but these aren't original to King, as any child or textbook entry on rabies will tell you.

Where Cujo does fall short is in the surprise department. I could see from a mile away how all the character paths would intersect and how Cujo would be involved enough the warrant the title of the novel. All of the elements leading up to the climatic Cujo v. Car showdown were pretty clear from the early part of the book. All told, though, the novel still holds up as a thriller that relies on natural, everyday terror to carry its plot.