This is Maple Street…on the last calm
and reflective moment…before the monsters came.
Last year I became aware of Tiffany D.
Jackson in spectacular fashion with The Weight Of Blood, the most
accurate retelling Stephen King's Carrie in the half a century since it
hit the best seller list. Mike Flanagan would be lucky to do half as well with
the limited series he is scheduled to create of that novel as Jackson does in
her version.
In typical fashion I spent the next
several months looking for Jackson's previous and future novels: the superb
nostalgic riff on the 1990s rap scene in Let Me Hear A Rhyme and her
latest novel venture into the world of cults in The Scammer. Then this
past month I managed to find White Smoke written in 2021 and what the
author considered her first real attempt into the horror genre.
In hindsight maybe I shouldn't have
been shocked that she managed to do so well with her version of Carrie; in
her first horror novel she decided to pay tribute to arguably the first great
horror TV show in history The Twilight Zone. At the center of it is one
of the great episodes Rod Serling ever wrote, arguably one of the greatest
episode of TV in all time.
'The Monsters are Due on Maple Street'
was not the first great episode of Twilight Zone but it was by far one
of the darkest Serling ever wrote. It deals when after a mysterious crash all
of the power and phones go out in Maple Street. One of the kids mentions
reading a comic book in which he saw aliens invade and that they looked like
human. The panic starts to spread when one of the cars begins to work at random,
and the neighbors start accusing each other. One of them gets shot by accident,
the panic spreads and eventually they turn on each other and start burning the
houses down. The final twist is one you should find later on but it delivers
one of the most famous lines in TV to that point, one that could stand for both
the Cold War paranoia of Serling's time and so much of 21st century
America today:
"They pick the most dangerous
enemy they can find and its themselves."
That episode Jackson tells us in the
afterword is the book's iron spine. I might not have known for sure had Jackson
not revealed it. The thing is when you look at White Smoke in its
entirety you get the sense that Jackson is almost certainly putting Easter eggs
in that she might not be aware of – and perhaps her intended audience might not
be – but make this novel all the richer.
White Smoke is told from the perspective of
Marigold Anderson, an African American teenager who has just had to leave rehab
because of a mental breakdown and for circumstances Jackson's doesn't reveal
until the end of the novel. Her mother is a writer who's divorced amicably from
her architect father and remarried a white man named Alec. They've become a
blended family: Mari has a younger brother named Sammy; Alec a ten year old
named Piper.
Mari considers Piper something of a
spoiled brat even though Piper's trying to get over a far darker trauma then Mari.
A couple of years ago she came home to find her grandmother was dead and had to
wait with her until her family came home. Piper's grandmother was the only
friend the young girl had but Mari and Sammy are not warm to her – perhaps
because of the color of her skin.
Mari suffers from a trauma that has to
do with a fear of bedbugs that infected her house several years ago and caused
her to suffer from anxiety attacks. The only think that truly alleviated them
was marijuana but for reasons we won't learn until the end of the novel, her
family has never wanted her to smoke again even though it’s the only thing that
has any calming effect. Mari has been trying to make her way through her life
on the back of a self-help mantra
"Change is good. Change is necessary. Change is needed."
At this point the Wilson family is
moving from their sunny California town to a small town in an unnamed Midwest
state called simply Cedarville. Her mother has decided to take a job with an
organization called simply The Foundation, and as part of being an artist in
residence they get a free house. The free house is wooden, decrepit, with no
real furnace and barely any wi-fi signal It's almost a palace compared to the
rest of the houses in this section of town which reminds Mari of the opening
scenes of The Walking Dead. She barely notices the sign that says Maple
Street because its barely been paid attention to. There's no indication she's seen The
Twilight Zone but she sure as hell noticed the signpost up ahead that tells
them they've crossed over into a weird place.
Even the welcoming committee admits
that this is a decrepit section of Cedarville but that the Foundation plans to
make it better. Its only after the neighbors show up that Mari realizes that
this is the prominently African-American section of the town with more black
people then she's seen in her life. Mari thinks this will be a plus; she
doesn't know just how bad it will be – and that's before strange things start
happening in her home.
Almost from the start its clear why
this house is free: there's a stench coming from it that no one can find and
that everyone but Mari is willing to ignore.
Random things begin to go missing and then food starts to go missing.
Mari gets a sense that there's mysterious figures around. Buddy, the family
dog, begins to bark mysteriously at random. Mari starts having dreams where
she's either paralyzed or unable to move or that random figures are in her room.
One of the neighbor, Mr. Watson, tells them that there were three different
contract companies in four months that had to work the house but never tells
anybody why.
One wonders if Jackson is writing so
much of White Smoke as a tongue-in-cheek rebuke to Eddie Murphy's famous
routine about why you'd never see a black family in a horror movie. "You
white folks see blood in the toilet; you go get Ajax." The difference is the Wilson family isn't
entirely staying out of blindness; they cleaned out their savings to put Mari
through rehab and a free house is something they can't sneeze at. Of course,
there's the added joke that Alec, the white man in the family, thinks that
everything is normal which is pretty much keeping with it.
The reference to Mari that might
remind fans of Twilight Zone is another classic 'Nightmare at 20,000
Feet' where William Shatner plays a man who suffered a mental breakdown while
flying on a plane and is now on a flight for the first time since then when he
sees a gremlin on the wing that no one else does. He spends the entire episode
first wrestling with his sanity and when he realizes no one will listen to him
because of his mental condition, manages to steal a gun and shoots the gremlin
off. At the end of the episode he's being assured he'll be all right and he
tells his wife: "I know. But I'm the only one who knows…right now."
When the final shot reveals the damaged wing, we realize that there is a double
triumph: when the aircraft looks at the plane they'll realize that something
was on the wing and that Shatner's character wasn't insane.
Mari's condition mirrors that episode,
not just because of how her anxiety is triggered by panic attacks – which we
finally see happen in horrible detail in the middle of the book – but also
because of her former addiction. On multiple occasions her mother feels that
it's necessary to do a drug test on her, and we know all of this is conditional
on if the relationship doesn't work, she's willing to live with her father
again. Furthermore Mari is hampered by her own guilt over what she believes
she's caused her family to do, particularly with her younger brother and that
she doesn't deserve to be happy. Mari has come to Cedarville because she wants
a fresh start and for that reason it takes her a little longer to realize the
weirdness.
To be clear some of it comes
immediately when Mr. Sterling (Serling with a T!) shows up at their home in the
kind of smiling reassuring attitude that would not be uncommon with the
representatives of the devil that kept showing up in a lot of Twilight Zone episodes.
When they are invited to the introductory gala of The Sterling Foundation the
first thing Mari and Sammy notice is that their family is basically the only
people of color among all the suits and ties. They also notice that
Cedarville's plans for a brand new community go right through where their new
home is. Mari wonders how the hell they're going to rebuild where an entire
neighborhood is.
When she gets to high school things
are even odder. For one thing, there are almost a dozen girls to every boy and
the population is almost entirely African-American. The only two people she
makes connections with are Yussef, one of the few teenagers who lives in her
neighborhood and Erika, one of the only people who has access to weed. The
entire high school treats her coldly but Mari attributes it to being the new
girl.
Eventually Mari learns about some of
the stranger things about this town. How Sterling's brother used to be governor
and enacted the Sterling Laws who thought 'drugs were the devil's work as gave
mandatory minimums of 20 years for weed. As Erica tells it:
"He convinced white folks that weed would
turn people into addicts who would rob, loot and kill…He dedicated the entire
city's budget to 'cleaning the streets. Police were riding around like an army,
walking into houses, offices, restaurants, schools, hospitals with no warrants.
After the first wave, they started getting greedy, planting drugs on
folks."
The prison population grew 900
percent, schools and hospitals started shutting down, folks to the street. And
that was the first match that lit up the last riots."
All of this would be familiar to
Serling, who lived through the McCarthy era, tried to tell the narrative of
Emmett Till in two TV movies that the censors cut to bits and who always argued
for civil rights throughout his show – which ended right around the time the
riots were starting in Ghettos like Newark and Watts. He would often write
about dystopian societies where the state has too much power, most notably in
'The Obsolete Man' where all books and religion is banned. Serling knew that it
doesn't take much to build the kind of world Jackson does and he would
appreciate her prose.
As White Smoke progresses
Jackson tells us of greater sins that deal with Cedarville's past included why
the town doesn't celebrate Halloween, the connections the families in power
have to run this town and the great generational and original sin that Maple
Street is suffering from that dates back decades. It explains much of what has
happened in all of Cedarville and why so many in this neighborhood act the way
they do; it's not so much a racial one as one of a witch hunt that may have
been orchestrated by greater forces. It makes clear that this is a parallel for
what Mari is living through right now; she believes she has to punish herself
the way this entire neighborhood thinks it has to.
I'm reminded of other Easter eggs
throughout the show: most notably how there's a televangelist who always seems
to be on quoting the Bible, selling snake oil (or false seeds) and telling
everyone to repent. This reminds me of 'Eye of The Beholder', where in a
hospital in some unknown place, a leader is preaching conformity while a young
woman waits to see if a surgery that will remedy her horrible deformity has
worked. Serling never gave an explanation as to where and when that world was;
Jackson gives a very real why this preacher is and that he has a very real
purpose.
Jackson says that in the afterward
that while she is making an entry into the horror genre she believes she's
keeping a toe in the psychological thriller space. That is true but only in the
sense that The Twilight Zone managed to do both effectively. So much of
what she puts into this novel – powerful
forces manipulating small people behind the scenes, the rich and powerful
taking from those with less, the use of authority to clamp down on any signs of
resistance and using their ability to placate the mob – are very much themes
that Serling and his crew of writers would freely make use of in their body of
work.
And she demonstrates the ability which
I have seen in her later works to emulate Hitchcock when he said he wanted to
play the audience like a piano. She does so in so many exceptional sequences
that will scare anyone with a pulse. My personal favorite (?) involves the
alarms that Mari has set on her phone to remind her of her schedule. One
morning she wakes up early to reminder that she doesn't remember setting and in
quick succession they become almost omniscient and terrifying with each new reminder.
And she frequently undercuts with jet black
comedy, most of it coming from Alec who is the typical white man who really
believes there's an explanation for everything no matter how bad things get.
The closest emulation to 'Maple Street' comes when the power goes out in the
Anderson home and then the entire street goes black. Eventually the light comes
on in their home but no one else's and the entire neighborhood comes ready to
raise a mob. Jackson makes it clear just how scary and hysterical this scene is
at the same time when everything Alec says pisses everybody else off even when
makes no sense:
Oh I see, so you think having power in
your fancy new home makes you better than us?
"Fancy?" Alec chuckles.
"Have you seen this block.
Someone gasps; the outrage visceral.
"So the Wood ain't good enough
for you?" a man yells.
What should be terrifying almost seems
to be absurd when they accuse one of the sons of suspicious behavior
"because he's walking that dog around." When everything resolves
itself the mob disperses and doesn't even apologize even though they completely
overreacted.
Though much of Jackson's writing is
aimed at white privilege, the even-handedness towards race is clear in this
book. Yes the people in Maplewood have a right to be upset but they have spent
the entire period taking their aggression out on the wrong people rather than
those in power. She sees very clearly that
manipulation has never been a one-way street.
I've been relatively vague on what so
much of this book is really about, being content to describe it more on mood
then anything else. I believe that's the right approach when you're talking
about a horror novel more than most genres. So I'm going to conclude this
review with a brief discussion of The Twilight Zone.
There have been multiple attempts to
revive it like clockwork almost every twenty years and whether the writers are
Harlan Ellison or Jordan Peele, it never lasts as long and is rarely as high in
quality. I believe that the problem is that they have tried to copy the mood
of the stories but not Serling's approach. Serling would have worn the
label social justice warrior proudly had it existed and he did his best to walk
the walk when running The Twilight Zone. He did stories which had
African-Americans at the lead at times and even hired female directors to work
for the show when few would consider it done. More importantly that attitude
was reflecting in the stories he told where he used the mask of sci-fi and
horror to tell stories where the wicked were punished and the good rewarded.
Almost none of the stories in the revivals were willing to do that.
Would Serling look at the world today
and be disappointed? Actually I think, like the liberals of the time, he'd be
more understanding and say that things only seem worse now then they
were when he was first making The Twilight Zone. The idea of an
African-American being the creative force behind a revival would have been inconceivable
to him when he died too young in 1975. Now such things happen regularly. The
world is not a utopia but Serling knew first hand that utopias are dull when you
write about them in fiction and almost certainly less fun to live in then they
appear. There's no arc of the universe, just an arrow steadily moving. It may
move slower then some people want, faster than others, but it keeps moving
regardless despite the efforts of those who want to hold it back or push it
backwards.
That may be reflected in the ending of
White Smoke. For all its very real bleakness, Jackson ends her story in
a place more optimistic than Serling would for his Maple Street even if it may
not be apparent to Mari or even the reader. Survival is its own victory and she
has made a journey that would have been unthinkable at the start of the novel.
By the end of the book she has changed her maxim:
"Change is good. Change is not
always necessary. But the right change is most definitely needed. "
Serling said something similar in the end
narration of another episode:
"…No matter what the future
brings, man's capacity to rise to the occasion will remain unaltered. His
potential for tenacity and optimism continues, as always, to outfight, outpoint
and outlive any changes made by his society, for which three cheers and a unanimous
decision rendered from the Twilight Zone.
Jackson's character believe in
Serling's philosophy and that's to be applauded as much as anything. That
shouldn't be confined to the Twilight Zone either and Jackson's
characters believe it.