Joyland is King’s second Hard Case Crime novel. His first crack at the imprint, The Colorado Kid, was a crime novel without a clear resolution (the question of who murdered the titular The Colorado Kid remains unsolved).* Joyland has a quite satisfying resolution, but it’s arguable whether it’s a crime novel or a coming-of-age story masquerading as a crime novel. Not that it matters, either to me, the reader (who isn’t a purist) or Charles Ardai, who I’m sure was more than happy to publish anything by King.**

Devin Jones, aged in his seventies, takes us back to 1973, when, as a 21-year-old college student, he spent the summer in North Carolina working at a local amusement park, the titular Joyland. Jones is the typical King nebbish with a sensitive soul (with a hint of white-male mean). He knows something’s not quite right between him and his girlfriend Wendy, but is still devastated when she breaks up with him over the phone. He thinks ill of her—that’s the meanness—but we know Devin would never deliberately be cruel. King doesn’t write that sort of hero.

While at Joyland, Devin befriends summer workers Tom Kennedy and Erin Cook. Tom is the Stephen King wise-cracker. Erin is King’s platonic version of the perfect woman. It comes as no surprise when Erin doesn’t fall for our hero but rather for Tom. It’s such a Stephen King move.***

King spends most of the novel romanticising the amusement parks of five decades ago—parks that were in their dying days even back then. I sound cynical, but it’s the opposite. King is elegaic in his love for these institutions, the lingo, the creaky but well-maintained rides, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy. At one point, Devin is required to “wear the fur” and dress as Howie the Happy Hound, and he is fantastic at it despite the tendency to overheat in the costume. King injects all these scenes with vigour and joy.

The crime element provides background noise as Devin and his mates become accustomed to carnival life. Essentially, Joyland’s fortune teller, who has low-level psychic powers (because, der), believes the Horror House ride is haunted by Linda Gray, who was brutally murdered inside the ride. Devin and Erin become obsessed with Gray’s death. However, it’s an obsession that pops in and out of the narrative as King’s attention regularly shifts back to Joyland and its delights.

Only with the introduction of Mike, a psychic ten-year-old (another King trope), and his very attractive mother, Annie Ross***, more than halfway through Joyland, does the plot finally whirr into action. I’ll leave you to discover how Mike and Annie link to Linda Gray and her killer.

Joyland isn’t a crime novel. Not really. It’s only vaguely a supernatural/horror novel. It’s actually a story about adulthood, about putting away childish things, about choosing the sort of person you want to be. It’s also a paen to the amusement parks of decades gone by. If you can deal with King’s tropes and tics, this is a good shit.

*It’s a testament to King that the lack of an ending isn’t a dealbreaker. 

**I’m not implying that Ardai would release any old crap from King. And neither would King disrespect Ardai with his table leavings. He sent Ardai The Colorado Kid, Joyland and Later because he loves the imprint. So do I, for what it’s worth. I have a near-complete collection of Hard Case Crime novels. (The covers are uniformly brilliant).

***It’s fine, though. Devin will eventually get his goolies tickled.

****She’s the one who does the tickling.