Synopsis:
The first 5,000 copies of World's First Edition, First Printing trade hardcover of THE DARK MAN will be given the deluxe treatment: shrink-wrapped with a different dust jacket, a custom-made slipcase, and a collectible Glenn Chadbourne bookmark featuring a Dark Man drawing that doesn't appear in the book!
Review:
While the publication of a new work by King is quite a coup by Cemetery Dance, I am more impressed with the work of Chadbourne. Each time I look over the pages, I find something new and enticing. This is a unique volume that ties the art to the words and gives a unique vision of two masters: King showing a glimpse of the beginnings of this unique talent that has entertained us for years; and, Chadbourne showing his mastery at understanding the written word and turning it into a not to be forgotten picture that enhances the experience. King, Chadbourne, and Cemetery Dance are a trio to contend with and this volume is a triumph in the trio of poetry, painting, and publishing. Don't miss this one of a kind work. --The Baryon Review
Purportedly scrawled by a college-age King on the back of a restaurant place mat, this glowering poem introduced a wandering character of ultimate evil, who would later mature into Randall Flagg of The Stand, The Eyes of the Dragon, and the Dark Tower series. Therefore, even though this is a curiosity, it's a significant one in the King mythos, and Chadbourne's black-and-white interpretation gives the spare text just the rotten juice it craves. The poem itself is the sort of metaphysical, apocalyptic piece you might expect from the late 1960s, but is nonetheless evocative. It begins, "i have stridden the fuming way / of sun-hammered tracks and / smashed cinders," as we follow the slow nighttime progress of a smudgy man traversing a moonlit America of busted merry-go-rounds, dilapidated trains, and agonized cemeteries. Wordless pages fill out the five-stanza poem, with Chadbourne's flat, snarled pencilwork hiding snakes, spiders, rats, and faces in every twisted tableau. It's all suitably ominous, and bewitched fans will be able to draw a direct line between this and The Gunslinger (1982). --Booklist
The poem itself is told from The Dark Man's point-of-view, and it's an effectively chilling piece of work. The world he describes is not unlike most King settings, a place where mundane sights like all-night filling stations and wheat fields exist beneath an ominous 'savage sickle moon,' and where sits 'a gutted columned house leeched with vines.' It's strong imagery, and it's easy to see how aspects of the character bled over into King's later work... But where The Dark Man really comes to life is in the marriage of King's text to Glenn Chadbourne's stark, brutal imagery. Thumbing through the book you can almost feel a cold October wind coming off the pages, and you can almost smell the desperation and fear permeating the desolate, broken landscape. Chadbourne's distinctive style has graced a number of King/Cemetery Dance projects, but never has it felt like a more perfect fit than it does here. The drawings are dense, packed with details that seem to shift and flow of their own accord so that each time you study the pages you see something else. It may not be for everybody, but a book like this is sure to please adventurous readers looking for new insight into one of King's most well-known creations. The Dark Man is a moody leap of faith by the creators and the publisher that pays off handsomely in the end. --The October Country
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