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Rage by Stephen King: The Infamous Novel That Remains Forbidden

Few novels have accumulated such a notorious reputation as Stephen King‘s 1977 psychological thriller "Rage". Originally published under King‘s pseudonym Richard Bachman, the book exploded into controversy after being associated with several real-life school shootings. Deemed dangerously influential, King took the rare step to voluntarily pull his own book from publication. Yet its forbidden status only amplified its cult mystique.

As a diehard Stephen King fan who views him as the undisputed master of horror, I have long been fascinated by the dark allure surrounding "Rage." Why does this obscure little novel carry such a mythical status? What disturbing power does it hold to entice unstable young minds towards violence? And what wisdom did King himself gain about ethical responsibility in withdrawing his work for the greater good?

From Obscurity to Notoriety: The Publication History of Rage

King initially published "Rage" under the pseudonym Richard Bachman as an experiment in building acclaim purely through writing merit. But the book shot from obscurity into notoriety in the late 80s/early 90s by getting associated with a string of school shootings and hostage incidents. These included:

  • 1988: A student took a high school classroom hostage after killing his English teacher in New Hampshire. The gunman was enthralled with "Rage."

  • 1996: 14-year-old Barry Loukaitis killed 2 students and a teacher in Washington state. Loukaitis reportedly felt empowered after reading "Rage" and saw himself as the protagonist.

  • 1997: The most direct link came via Michael Carneal, the perpetrator of a high school attack in Kentucky leaving 3 dead. Carneal‘s possession of "Rage" raised alarms.

In the wake of publicized ties to adolescent violence, King opted in 1999 to permanently withdraw "Rage" from publication. Yet doing so inevitable stoked fascination and notoriety.

A Descent Into The Twisted Mind of Charlie Decker

Spanning a mere 200 pages, "Rage" plunges deep into the psyche of disaffected teenager Charlie Decker. It‘s essentially a fictional case study of how alienation mutates into violence. The novel opens with Decker arriving to school full of simmering rage over chronic bullying. After getting reprimanded by the principal over a trivial uniform offense, Decker snaps. He returns wielding a stolen pistol and shoots an algebra teacher in the leg before taking his class hostage.

Up to this point, Decker‘s evolution follows a chilling – but familiar – trajectory of the average school shooter profile. But what makes "Rage" uniquely disturbing is how Decker earns eerie empathy from his captive peers. As hours pass locked together, classmates nervously share their own stories of humiliation. Decker assumes the role of "therapist", even as he continues terrorizing them with games of Russian Roulette.

By linking their victimhood to his, Decker cultivates a warped solidarity. The classical Stockholm Syndrome emerges – students grow emotionally attached to their tormentor through shared trauma. It‘s only late in the crisis that Decker‘s hold breaks when one defiant student plays along before turning the tables.

For the reader, it‘s a descent both into group psychology and the mental maze of a volatile teen who externalizes his pain as violence. King said he found the completed work "disturbing" – and it‘s easy to see why it resonates dangerously with impressionable minds.

The Demographics and Psychology of School Shooters

The recurring links from "Rage" to adolescent school attacks are no coincidence. Both protagonists like Charlie Decker and real shooters share telltale psychological traits and demographics. These include:

Demographics

  • Gender: Over 90% of school shooters are male. Toxic expectations around masculinity play a key role.
  • Age: Most are under 18, often middle school aged when warning signs first emerge.
  • Background: Shooters tend to come from relatively privileged suburban or small town upbringings rather than urban environments.

Psychology

  • Perceived Persecution: Whether actual or imagined, shooters believe they are chronic victims of bullying, disrespect and ostracization.
  • Resentment/Revenge: Most harbor resentment against peers and authorities they blame for their social marginalization.
  • Emotional Volatility: Shooters struggle regulating their emotions and can react explosively when triggered.
  • Dark Interests: Many idolize anti-heroes and extremist ideologies that feed vengeful fantasies.

With this profile in mind, it‘s evident why "Rage" serves as grist for the mill. Alienated young male readers relate all too easily to Charlie Decker‘s escalating crisis. They project onto Decker‘s violence revenge fantasies of their own as he transitions from bullied victim to dominant arbitrator over classmates.

Just as concerning is the warped solidarity Decker earns through shared hardship. Troubled minds embrace the distorted message that lashing out against indifferently cruel society makes you a leader, rather than outcast.

King‘s Moral Reckoning – Why Rage Was Pulled

In response to the undeniable pattern of school attacks linked to his novel throughout the 80s/90s, King took firm action. Despite "Rage" never selling widely during its initial run, the author coordinated with publishers in 1999 to cease all future publication and remove existing copies from bookstores.

King accepted partial ethical responsibility given recurring ties to real violence – especially among highly impressionable demographics. As he later reflected: "It took more than one slim novel to cause Michael Carneal to do what he did, but I did see ‘Rage‘ as an accelerant which I found personally disturbing."

While not outright renouncing the work, King conceded that however insightful his intentions, the novel‘s content interacts dangerously with unstable minds. Its ongoing availability could enable more harm than good. So removing one identifiable "accelerant" from circulation was prudent.

Beyond ties to specific attacks, King suggested a broader lesson on societal responsibility. He argued episodes of school violence generally arise from youth neglect, isolation and abuse at home. Rather than scapegoating entertainment, addressing cultural problems breeding disaffection early on is key. But when clear warning signs emerge around specific media, discretion is also vital.

The Allure of Forbidden Fruit – How Banning Books Backfires

Of course, prohibiting any artistic work often has the unintended effect of enhancing its mystical appeal. When access gets cut off – especially for impressionable teenagers – intrigue and obsession around the "forbidden fruit" escalates.

So it was probably inevitable that "Rage" took on a cult notoriety after disappearing from commercial circulation. In the internet piracy era, the novel continues floating around online for those keen to read King‘s "dangerous" lost work. Physical copies have become prized collector‘s items trading hands for astronomical prices.

For rebellious minds bred on counterculture, the fact King‘s own publishers "banned" his book makes delving into its taboo pages far more enticing. Rage‘s forbidden aura appeals directly to the anarchist impulse – motivations Charlie Decker himself would surely understand.

But for less stable readers already prone to antisocial thinking, embracing a text tied directly to real acts of violence risks further dissolving ethical barriers internal or external reinforcement would build. The double-edged nature of prohibition makes solutions complicated.

Perhaps wider awareness on root societal causes of youth violence – as King advocated – remains the most sensible grounding point.

Literary Merits of Rage – Insights From a Constant Reader

As an ardent Stephen King purist well-versed in the heights of his expansive bibliography, I also approach "Rage" as a literary work to assess. How does it compare against classics like "The Shining", "Carrie" or "Misery" – some of my perennial favorites?

There‘s no denying King‘s talent for fashioning immediacy and intimacy around emotionally volatile characters. Decker earns our intrigue – if not sympathy – through exquisitely taut pacing and claustrophobia as rooms shrink and tensions explode.

Between the lines, "Rage" conveys cutting social commentary on groupthink conformity and the viciousness of adolescent social hierarchies it breeds – insightful alongside works like "Lord of the Flies".

Yet we are ultimately left more spectacle than substance. Beyond the mid-point crisis climax, the novel struggles to justify its conceit or build resonance. I found the coda exploring Decker‘s fate particularly underdeveloped.

For me, "Rage" rates among King‘s more interesting literary experiments – but far from his most impactful fiction. Still, the fact this razor-sharp psychological thriller sprang from the mind of a then-21 year old author remains remarkable. The glimpse of a towering talent in ascent is evident – even if the full soaring flight of masterpieces lay ahead.

So from a pure craft perspective, "Rage" perhaps gets more criticism than warranted as an early work. But the maturity of lived experience that now guides King‘s ethical calculus also positions him to understand boundaries and consequences more profoundly at the dusk of an illustrious career.

The Ethics of Authors‘ Responsibility Over Their Creations

King‘s choice to suppress his work also sparked wider debate: where should lines be ethically drawn around artists‘ culpability for audience interpretation or misuse of their content? Legal scholar Leslie Kim Treiger compellingly argues King perhaps drew those lines prematurely.

On the other extreme lies the position that audiences alone determine meaning from works through their subjective lens. Yet granting full absolution contradicts what we know on how media interacts with psychology. Absolute art for art‘s sake ignores real impacts.

My view aligns with King‘s more nuanced reckoning that creators should thoughtfully reflect on how diverse interpretations of their work may yield outcomes they find unconscionable – especially related to systemic issues like violence. Rather than self-censor, they should use whatever cultural leverage they wield to nourish more constructive alternatives.

I deeply admire King‘s willingness to engage in this debate through action aligned to principles, even at the expense of legacy and mythology. Too few storytellers have the courage to stare into these shadows – or stare back at their own reflections.

The Enduring Legend of Rage

While the original copies have now passed into legend, the long shadow of "Rage" seems destined to endure for generations. Outright prohibition only enhances its dark mystique. Perhaps the greatest legacy lies in how the novel provokes discussion around the ethics of literature and consequences of creation.

Yet its most dangerous allure likely persists among disaffected minds who still privately pass around worn photocopies; seeing in Charlie Decker‘s story dark inspiration to retaliate against their own tormentors. For them, no barriers or warnings deter the burning drive towards infamy.

Ironically, Decker himself articulates the nihilism binding creator and destroyer. After his violent uprising ends, he coldly explains the termination point shared by every tyrant, avenger and visionary: “There is only surrender finally. If it goes on long enough, there is only surrender, King thought.”

Rage and its ripples prompt another timeless question: if surrender never comes by choice, at what point must compassion give way to confrontation?

For troubled souls and philosophers alike, the debate persists.