‘Walk or die, that’s the moral of this story’: A book review of Stephen King’s The Long Walk

What if survival meant never stopping? Not even to eat or sleep. In Stephen King’s dystopian novel, The Long Walk, to survive is to be the last one standing. Maintain a pace of at least 4mph. Slow down or stop, and you get a warning. Accumulate three warnings, and you get your ‘ticket’, a bullet in the head. There are no breaks. No sleep. No finish line. Not until 99 boys are dead.

With the new adaptation released in UK cinemas on 12 September, a new generation is now being introduced to one of King’s most psychologically intense works. Originally published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman, The Long Walk was written by King during his freshman year at the University of Maine, making it the first novel he actually completed – though it didn’t see publication until 1979.

The intentional vagueness keeps us on edge… and the lack of a clear purpose is a great way to get us readers hooked

Immediately, we are introduced to the characters destined to die. Among them is our protagonist, Ray Garraty (#47), his closest ally, Peter McVries (#61), and other notable participants: Arthur Baker (#3), Hank Olson (#70), and Gary Barkovitch (#5). The opening of the book perfectly sets the stage with deliberate ambiguity. We are given names but barely any backstories. We are placed at the starting line where 100 boys gather, each assigned a number, yet their reasons for participating remain unknown. The narrative doesn’t immediately tell us the ‘why’ – why the boys have signed up, what they want to achieve, or even what awaits the winner. The intentional vagueness keeps us on edge, just like the characters, and the lack of a clear purpose is a great way to get us readers hooked.

The rest of the book unfolds with a deliberate pacing technique, one which mirrors the march of the 100 boys. The slow buildup serves to heighten the tension, as the looming question of who will die first hangs over readers’ minds in the first few chapters. The gradual escalation keeps readers on edge and, while some may find the initial pace slow, it effectively sets us up for the horror to come. The slow start becomes a crucial element to the story as, soon enough, the boys start dropping like flies.

[The lack of character backstories] was King’s way to underscore the dehumanising nature of the competition

At first, I felt detached from the dropouts. Many of the initial casualties are unnamed or peripheral characters who don’t interact with Ray Garraty. By withholding these emotional connections and character backstories, King perfectly emphasises the brutality of the walk. The boys are reduced to mere numbers, their lives expendable. At first, I wasn’t a fan of this distancing; I wanted to know everything about all 100 boys. Why had they signed up? Who were they fighting for? Did they have any regrets? I think my desire to connect with them is just a natural human inclination to seek meaning, something which many readers can relate to. However, I think this was King’s way to underscore the dehumanising nature of the competition. His approach may initially feel quite jarring, but really, it effectively sets the tone for the rest of the book.

As The Long Walk progresses, the tension intensifies. Initially, the deaths of the boys elicited little emotional response from me; however, as the walkers dwindled, King focuses more on those with whom Garraty has formed bonds. The deaths of his inner circle of comrades are particularly poignant, as King lets us get to know them more intimately. A cruel trick on King’s part if I’m honest. From the beginning, we know that only one will be victorious, so when these losses happen, they are emotional gut punches that I will never recover from.

While this [sexual thoughts] could reflect the hormonal nature of teenage boys, it was very distracting and, at times, frustrating

It wouldn’t be a Stephen King novel without a surprising twist, but unfortunately, this one wasn’t entirely satisfying. Stebbins (#88), a mysterious character whose enigmatic behaviour sparks curiosity throughout, is revealed to hold a secret. Throughout the novel, hints about his past and motivations gradually surface, and many readers, including myself, can’t help but theorise over what he is hiding. However, the revelation itself may feel abrupt to some, detracting from its emotional impact. In a book club discussion, we found ourselves divided on the twist, most of us agreeing that it was quite “out of the blue”. Personally, I had speculated that Stebbins had been a previous winner of the Long Walk and was signing up for the second time, and this alternative twist left me questioning the direction of the narrative.

While my book club were divided on this aspect of the book, we did all agree on one thing: King’s tendency to sexualise absolutely everything. Throughout the book, there are frequent and detailed references to sexual thoughts and fantasies, especially from the protagonist, Ray Garraty. For example, he is constantly having recurring thoughts about his girlfriend and her physical attributes, which detracts from the otherwise serious tone of the story. While this could reflect the hormonal nature of teenage boys, it was very distracting and, at times, frustrating.

Speaking of frustration, what about that ending? I won’t go into too much detail, but I will say this: if you’re someone who hates ambiguity and likes their loose ends tied up, perhaps reconsider picking this book up. The novel’s ending left me with many questions and started quite a debate during my book club. Some found the open-ended approach clever; others found it lacking in closure. I’m still trying to form my own opinion…come back to me on that.

It’s a marathon of a novel (not in length, don’t worry) and, if you’re ready, The Long Walk awaits you. And now, with Francis Lawrence’s film out in cinemas, this grim tale may find its second life. Lace up your walking boots tightly and give it a go – just let me know what you think about that ending. I’m curious to hear your take on whether you liked it or not.