What does it mean to save a life? You could argue this business of “saving” is the basis of morality, the balance of good outweighing evil at the end of the line, not just for yourself but those around you. The simple notion of leaving a place better than you found it, completing the next best action. It’s hefty business, saviorism, weighed down with responsibility, ambiguity, and loose rules that never really define the “right” thing. It may seem easier to question why any of this matters at all, if “goodness” is ever achievable in a world marred by wrongness, but Joe Hill offers a glimmer of hope in the long dark with his latest novel, King Sorrow.
This title alone suggests a bleakness reigning supreme, a ruthless patriarch dictating the vast majority of lives from a regal throne adorned with tears and anguish. And, thanks to this, before a dragon is ever mentioned on the page, we know exactly who we are dealing with in the oversized, fire-breathing iguana, King Sorrow. But let’s set the stage a bit more before we plunge into the long dark. Six college-aged friends inadvertently shackle themselves to a dragon, King Sorrow, who demands death once a year, at this group’s choosing. Should they default to no choice, one of the six must be sacrificed themselves. This deal is made under the assumption that the terms and conditions of this contract with King Sorrow will last for only a year, but to everyone’s horror, this is a lifelong engagement blessed in blood. Spanning decades, King Sorrow is a novel that devotes itself to understanding humanity in the face of evil, the impossible choices we humans face every single day, and what it means to save and be saved despite the monstrous capacity we possess. Into the long dark we go.
When we talk about saviors, those who actively save day in and day out, we often think of grandiose images of men with beards and saintly halos, those who turn the other cheek when met with conflict, or elderly women in habits passing out loaves of bread to starving children. It’s a lofty image promoted through religions, faith systems, and, what feels like, staunch believers of black and white morality. Yet, in the year 2025, the act of saving looks inherently different as evidenced by his nearly thousand-page tome.
You see, as Hill so gorgeously, heart-wretchedly, and expertly proves, the act of saving never once looks the same, never takes the shade of jet black or pearly white. No, Hill’s saviors swear, they fuck up, they repent, they hurt, they yearn, they kill, they bleed, and they hate. But most importantly, the characters in King Sorrow love fiercely, are loved intently, and are willing to be loved. They grow and change and fluctuate and the words used to build these people are some of the most compelling pieces of fiction come to life. More than anything, Arthur, Colin, Van, Donna, Gwen, and Allie prove hope.
This next paragraph could be dedicated to the technical astonishments of this novel: the exquisite pacing that is sustained for an enthralling 900ish pages (yes, that number is correct, and I do mean enthralling), the ease of access to a fantasy system rooted in reality, and the thriving creativity around this sandbox Hill plays in. But I think this space is better suited for the emotional intelligence behind the fiction of King Sorrow. You see, Hill gives us a hypothesis with this novel, asserting that we are all worthy of love and saving even out our ugliest, most foul, demented versions. Not only does he postulate this notion, he proves it time and time again with his character arcs, particularly in the character of Donna McBride, a woman whose basis of existence is fueled by anger but only through the ferocity of her capacity to love. And may I just give Joe his flowers now for his portrayal of real female characters, a facet of this book that affected me more than I can say.
As we see through King Sorrow’s violence, triggered by these six friends (and other things that are too spoiler-y to mention), the world is full of terrible things, terrible people, and the truest propensity for evil. Hill never shies away from just how hard living is when it feels like the odds are forever stacked against you, the dark cloud of doom forever pouring on our heads. It’s a feeling we know all too well, truth be told. Yet, this fact is a coin with another side, a blazingly brilliant possibility for joy, love, and redemption. Most importantly, for both the good and the bad, Hill proves that nothing is binary. We humans live in gradients of gray, grow in blinding light, and wane in endless darkness. Living is a spectrum. We can hurt, we can kill, we can abuse, but we can also forgive, we can heal not just ourselves, we can love.
The world may be filled with dragons, trolls, and other variants of entities out to thrive on harm and destruction. But, the world is also full of us, people with the greatest potential to change, to save, to shine. Slaying dragons feels like big business, noble business, but the truth of the matter is that dragons come in all sizes, all of which we are capable of confronting and often times defeating. We can stand. Joe Hill’s King Sorrow is the book we all need right now, the reminder that nothing is ever too late, that we are capable of so much even in the face of the seemingly unbeatable. This is a love letter to hope, a shining beacon in the long dark.
King Sorrow is available at bookstores everywhere from William Morrow. The audiobook is available via Libro.fm!
