Typewriters – The Shining
As a writer, I once felt obligated to buy a typewriter. You know, pay homage to those who came before me, get into the cliché writer’s mode and attempt to channel the spirits of the greatest writers to ever live. Well The Shining taught me that typewriters can channel spirits alright, but sure as hell not the kind I was to absorb.
Most would attribute Jack’s descent into madness to his solitude or to the demons of the hotel, whether tangible or in his head, but I think there was something much darker and much simpler at play. It was those hours he spent in front of the typewriter that ruined him. I mean have you ever seen a more demonic look than the one Jack gives while sitting at his typewriter? It was that room where he wanted to be alone – completely alone so he could sit at his typewriter in peace, just as many writers tend to do. I sometimes wonder if I even want to be a writer anymore when I think about The Shining.
After the first time I watched The Shining I not only threw away my typewriter, but I went house to house in the dark of the night throwing away every typewriter I found. That sounds crazy, I know. Wait, that really does sound crazy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. What? Why did I type that? Gah! Typewriters are asserting their power on me and I’m just writing about them. Stephen King, you’ve ruined me.
