Stephen King's the Dark Tower: The Complete Concordance Revised and Updated (3 page)

In many ways,
The Wind Through the Keyhole
is an exploration of how we deal with grief. All of the young protagonists—Roland, Bill Streeter, and Tim Ross—are forced to come to terms with the violent death of a parent. But the novel is not just about grief, it is also about how we react to the unfair vicissitudes
of life. Roland has committed a crime, but he must come to accept that the death of his mother was an accident. Bill Streeter’s father was brutally murdered by a shapeshifter who was not a mindless beast, but a human being who took some form of pleasure from his kills. Bill cannot bring his father back to life, but by identifying the killer he can bring some form of closure to the horrors he has faced, and he can also help to prevent future massacres. Similarly, Tim Ross discovers that his father—whom he has been told was incinerated by a dragon—was in truth slaughtered by his partner and best friend, Bern Kells, who coveted Tim’s mother. Tim cannot wind back time any more than he can untie the knot that binds his mother to her violent and drunken new husband, but he can expose his stepfather’s crime and also minimize the impact that Kells has on his own, and his mother’s, life.

As well as the personal traumas that Roland, Bill, and Tim must face, there are the greater social injustices that echo throughout the three tales. On his way to Debaria, Roland is made uncomfortably aware of how successful his mother’s lover, Marten Broadcloak, has been in turning the people of Mid-World against the gunslingers. (In Debaria, too many people have secretly given their allegiance to the mad harrier, John Farson.) As the adult Roland of the frame story knows, Farson’s destiny is to bring about Mid-World’s second destruction. In Tim Ross’s world, the greedy Covenant Man (who is but another face of Roland’s eternal enemy, Marten Broadcloak/Walter O’Dim) has poisoned the reputation of Gilead by squeezing as much tax as possible out of the people of Tree. Even in the land of fairytale, people whisper that Gilead’s taxes are unfair, and that the people’s covenant with the Eld has been paid a dozen times over, in blood as well as silver. As when he is in his Broadcloak disguise, the Covenanter knows full well that he is destroying the fabric of Mid-World society, but this is exactly what he wants to do. The wastelands that Roland and his American
tet
traverse are as much the fault of O’Dim as they are the fault of Mid-World’s Old People.

Although the emotions explored in
The Wind Through the Keyhole
are dark ones, the novel’s closure is redemptive. Before Roland leaves Debaria, Everlynne of Serenity gives him a note penned by Gabrielle before she left the women’s retreat. Though the letter is as disjointed and distraught as the mind of the woman who had written it, Gabrielle tells her son that she knew she was destined to die by his hand, but returned to Gilead anyway. Although Gabrielle has already entered the clearing at the end of the path, from beyond the grave she offers her son absolution. The final words of her letter, written in High Speech, say
, I forgive you everything. Can you forgive me?
At the end of the novel, Steven King states that the two most beautiful words in any language are
I forgive.
I must say, I agree. Unless we are able to open our hearts and forgive others, we can never learn to forgive ourselves.

For all of us who have waited so long for another tale about our favorite wandering gunslinger,
The Wind Through the Keyhole
is a gift. Thank you, Steve. And thank you, my fellow Constant Readers, for perusing yet another version of my
Concordance,
this massive book which I regard as my travel log for Mid-World.

Long days and pleasant nights, and may the sun never fall in your eyes.

Robin Furth
August 6, 2012

Bag of Bones.
New York: Scribner, 1998.

Desperation.
New York: Viking-Penguin, 1996.

“Everything’s Eventual.”
Everything’s Eventual: 14 Dark Tales.
New York: Scribner, 2002.

The Eyes of the Dragon.
New York: Viking-Penguin, 1984.

Insomnia.
New York: Viking-Penguin, 1994.

It.
New York: Viking-Penguin, 1986.

“Low Men in Yellow Coats.”
Hearts in Atlantis.
New York: Scribner, 1999.

“The Mist.”
Skeleton Crew.
New York: Putnam, 1985.

The Regulators
(Stephen King as Richard Bachman). New York: Viking-Penguin, 1996.

’Salem’s Lot.
New York: Doubleday, 1975.

The Stand.
New York: Doubleday, 1978.

Black House.
New York: Random House, 2001.

The Talisman.
New York: Viking-Penguin, 1984.

1. 
Stephen King’s The Dark Tower: A Concordance, Volume I
went to press before a paginated copy of the new version of
The Gunslinger
was available. As a result, all
Gunslinger
page references refer to the original version of the novel. All entries that contain material drawn from the 2003
Gunslinger
are marked with a double asterisk (**). In the 2012 updated edition of this
Concordance,
I have included some page references from the revised 2003 edition of
The Gunslinger.
These page references are followed by the following: (
2003 edition
).

2. Page references are as follows:

V:199

(volume):(page number)

3. Although Mid-World was the name of a specific historical kingdom, Stephen King also uses this term when he needs to refer (in general terms) to Roland’s version of Earth. I have followed this practice.

4. In Volume I of this
Concordance,
I often capitalized the term
Our World.
In the last three books of the series, we find out that there are many, many versions of our world, so I no longer use capitals. However, when I refer specifically to the world in which Stephen King writes his novels (and where I’m fairly certain you and I are reading them), I use the term
Keystone Earth.

5. Constant Readers will notice that the Map of the Beams, located in
Appendix VII
, has changed so that it can remain consistent with the information imparted in
The Wind Through the Keyhole.
The Lion Eagle Beam, which passes through the Endless Forest of North’rd Barony, now flows north-south.

Commala, come-come,
Journey’s almost done . . .

WINTER

WIDE EARTH

Riddling

SOWING

(**New Earth)

(**Fresh Commala)

The Sowing Night Cotillion

called Commala

a courting rite dance

celebrating spring

MID-SUMMER

FULL EARTH

Riddling

Full Earth babies born

REAPING

Charyou Tree
and burning of stuffy-guys,

Reaping lass and Reaping lad, Reap charms.

In the Outer Arc, a prize is given on Reap Day to the person or group

that collects the greatest number of rattlesnake skins.

Children planted on Reap come due on Full Earth.

This is the true Year’s End.

Reap kisses

Orgy of Reap

Propitiating old gods

Reap Morn: First day of Winter

YEAR’S END

KISSING MOON

A perfect disk of silver

Moon of Romance

Shadows of lovers

On its bright skin

PEDDLER’S MOON

Late-summer moon

Huge and orange

And the Peddler, who comes out of the Nones

With his sack of squealing souls

HUNTRESS MOON

Last moon of summer, first moon of autumn

Picking apples, cutting hay

Snakes and scorpions wander east from the desert

Day moon

The huntress fills her belly

And becomes

A pallid, vampire woman

Season of Reap

The beginning of endings

Clearer and clearer on each starry night

The Huntress pulls back her bow

DEMON MOON

Blood red

Death moon

Closing of the year

Blade nose

Bone grin

Reap’s scythe

Above

He grins and winks

Though a scarlet

Shifting

Scrim

Spoiler’s Warning: Read this essay only after you have read the first four books of Roland’s saga. Otherwise, you’ll get more than a glimpse of what is to come . . .

To any reader of the Dark Tower series, Roland Deschain is an instantly recognizable character. As I write this, I see him in my mind’s eye, striding across the yellowing grasses of the River Barony savannah, his black hair threaded with gray, his body tall and lanky, his holster and gun belt strapped to his hips. Only one of those fabled sandalwood-handled six-shooters is with him; it rests against his left thigh. The other is back at camp, secure in the docker’s clutch strapped to Eddie Dean’s side. As I stare, Roland turns his head and regards me pragmatically.
If you need to talk to me,
he says,
then come.
Time may be a face on the water, but in Roland’s world, water is scarce.

Roland watches as I pass through the doorway of the page. His pale blue eyes really are like those of a bombardier, both cool and assessing. By necessity, this meeting will be brief. I’m another one of Roland’s secrets, and he thinks it better to keep me that way. He’s not certain what level of the Tower I come from, but he knows one thing. I am mapping his travels.

Finding some shade, Roland hunkers. I hand him one of the rolling papers I’ve brought, and he accepts it silently. Unlacing the leather thongs of his traveling purse, he removes his tobacco poke and rolls a smoke. Despite the missing fingers on his right hand, he works the paper dexterously, licking the gummed side with a grimace. He strikes a match against the seam of his jeans and lights his cigarette. For a moment his face is illuminated with an eerie glow that makes his features look drawn and more than a little haggard. He has a few days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks, and his lips are chapped. Once again I try to show him this concordance, but he waves the bound manuscript away as he exhales a cloud of smoke. As always, he thinks that my constant revisions waste paper. Besides, he’s only interested in the maps. But today I’ve brought a short piece, and this he has agreed to hear. It’s my interpretation of his epic journey. Taking another deep drag, Roland rolls his hand in that gesture which means only one thing, in any world.
Get on with it.
So I clear my throat and (rather nervously) begin.