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    The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger
    The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger
    The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger
    Ebook305 pages5 hoursThe Dark Tower

    The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger

    By Stephen King

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    “An impressive work of mythic magnitude that may turn out to be Stephen King’s greatest literary achievement” (The Atlanta Journal-Constitution), The Gunslinger is the first volume in the epic Dark Tower Series.

    A #1 national bestseller, The Gunslinger introduces readers to one of Stephen King’s most powerful creations, Roland of Gilead: The Last Gunslinger. He is a haunting figure, a loner on a spellbinding journey into good and evil. In his desolate world, which mirrors our own in frightening ways, Roland tracks The Man in Black, encounters an enticing woman named Alice, and begins a friendship with the boy from New York named Jake.

    Inspired in part by the Robert Browning narrative poem, “Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came,” The Gunslinger is “a compelling whirlpool of a story that draws one irretrievable to its center” (Milwaukee Sentinel). It is “brilliant and fresh…and will leave you panting for more” (Booklist).

    Editor's Note

    King’s magnum opus…

    This first book in Stephen King’s magnum opus, The Dark Tower series has so much going on. Some fantasy, a little sci-fi, and a lot of Western. A fun read and an essential one to prepare for the movie and TV series adaptations.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherScribner
    Release dateJan 1, 2016
    ISBN9781501141386
    Author

    Stephen King

    Stephen King es autor de más de sesenta libros, todos ellos best sellers internacionales. Sus títulos más recientes son Holly, Cuento de Hadas, Billy Summers, Después, La sangre manda, El Instituto, Elevación, El visitante (cuya adaptaciónaudiovisual se estrenó en HBO en enero de 2020), La caja de botones de Gwendy (con Richard Chizmar), Bellas durmientes (con su hijo Owen King), El bazar de los malos sueños, la trilogía «Bill Hodges» (Mr. Mercedes, Quien pierde paga y Fin de guardia), Revival y Doctor Sueño.La novela 22/11/63 (convertida en serie de televisión en Hulu) fue elegida por The New York Times Book Review como una de las diez mejores novelas de 2011 y por Los Angeles Times como la mejor novela de intriga del año. Los libros de la serie «La Torre Oscura» e It han sido adaptados al cine, así como gran parte de sus clásicos, desde Misery hasta El resplandor pasando por Carrie, El juego de Gerald y La zona muerta. En reconocimiento a su trayectoria profesional, le han sido concedidos los premios PEN American Literary Service Award en 2018, National Medal of Arts en 2014 y National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters en 2003. Vive en Bangor, Maine, con su esposa Tabitha King, también novelista.

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    Reviews for The Dark Tower I

    4/5

    7,056 ratings201 reviews

    What our readers think

    Readers find this title to be a great start to the Dark Tower series, although it may be a little confusing and overambitious. It is important for setting the tone for the rest of the series and provides a quick fill-in of the world of the gunslinger. While some may find it rough and have a hard time getting through it, they assure that it is worth it to continue with the series. The book mixes fantasy, science, and captivating adventure, keeping readers tethered to the story.

    What did you think?

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    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5

      Jul 25, 2018

      This is the 2nd time reading The Gunslinger and I think I enjoyed it more the 2nd time as I had read 5 or 6 of The Dark Tower series and it seemed to make more sense to me having some knowledge of what's to come. I took my time reading it this time. I listened to the audio and read along with the book and took notes in order to be able to refer back as I am reading this as a group read. I am looking forward to reading The Drawing of the Three in June and following with the rest of the series. I would recommend this to those who have read some of King's other works as there are references to some of his other writings and this is considered his masterpiece.
    • 3/5

      Jul 25, 2018

      Well this is not the type of Stephen King book I have ever read before. The writing style is not all that different from the other books he has written, but the fantasy backdrop is certainly different. I have gotten more into the fantasy genre in recent years, and this (like the description and foreword say) is more of a Western set in a fantasy world.

      I enjoyed the book and look forward to reading more. Rating this book is kind of difficult. I enjoyed it, but felt like it was simply the opening chapters to a longer book. King admits that the entire series should be viewed as one novel, but since it was published as its own novel, I have to go with the 3 stars. My guess is that I will rate the series higher when I get through it, and this is a promising start.
    • 5/5

      Feb 8, 2018

      The Gunslinger is a classic genre-bending novel that skates the line between Western, sci-fi and fantasy. The book started slow, sending the gunslinger gradually along his path until the final gallop and the brilliant ending. The writing is perfect, each word chosen carefully to tell the story simply yet meaningfully. King is a true master.
    • 4/5

      Feb 8, 2018

      This book has been on my to read list for a very long time. I went and saw the movie version and figured it was time to give the book a shot. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Watching the movie gave me a basis to imagine the setting and the gunslinger himself. The book was way more metaphysical than I had anticipated. Will definitely be reading the rest of the series.
    • 4/5

      Feb 8, 2018

      Right away I will tell you I do not LOVE Stephen King. I have enjoyed a few of his stories (The Stand being my favorite). I decided to start the Dark Tower series because someone hinted to me that there is a tie into The Stand. I must say that I was surprised to have enjoyed The Gunslinger. It grabbed me right away and I basically could not put it down. The only thing I have to say against it is that it is filled with vulgar language. I'm no prude; I just don't feel that an abundance of profanity adds anything to the story. Having said that, I would, based on this first story, recommend the series.
    • 3/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      A bit disjointed and assumed that the reader was following along and filling in the gaps as it went along. Clearly very imaginative and visual, it almost read more like someone dictated a movie rather than wrote down a novel. It was very easy to picture the action and what was going on throughout this book. Amazing to think of how young Stephen King was when he wrote it! That being said, this did not entice me to follow up with the rest of the series though.
    • 4/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      An interesting, creative and compelling start. There are some corny bits in here, especially the dialogue of a boy in the story, but there is so much good that the corny bits are blotted out. I am intrigued, and that's what this book does well; so many lures to further occurrences in the story. I'm ready for more.
    • 3/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I've been wanting to read the Dark Tower books for a long time. The Gunslinger is an interesting start to a series, but I don't know quite what I think of it, yet. The non-Tolkienesque fantasy is good, and the fact that the details are so sparse makes it more intriguing -- but also perhaps less hooking, since there's less to hook you. The Gunslinger feels far too short to be setting up an epic series, really. At the same time, it seems rather long for the little that actually happens in it. It didn't help me get into it that Roland is so... unemotional. The storyline with Jake could have been heart-rending, but somehow I just took it on board with the same coolness that Roland seemed to. He's an interesting character, but I hope we learn more about him and get more depth as things go on.
    • 3/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      So, I read this a couple of times, over the years, and never really enjoyed it. I can see, now, what it was about it that bothered me... But this time I listened to the audio book, and I found it more enjoyable. I'm going to press on with the series, now that I was able to get through this first one without hating it. I've always been told the following books in the series are better, anyway.
    • 5/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I read this the first time when I was a teenager, and I'm very glad I decided to reread it. I had forgotten so much of the story, but it all started coming back to me as I read, and I discovered that it holds up to the high praise I gave it all those years ago. I'm looking forward to the next book!
    • 2/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      Not being a big fan of Mr King, I wasn't overley disappointed when it turned out be be a rather lame story of some western style gunslinger in a fantasy setting. I won't be looking out for the others in the series unless I get really bored.

      I hate saying this about anything I read as a lot of time and effort has been put in by the author to entertain his readers, seems I'm just not one of them.
    • 3/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      Liked it, but it is not "typical great Stephen King"
    • 3/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I might have enjoyed this much more when I was in my 20s. Stephen King's young-author-self shows through and had me rolling my eyes at times. Too much of a fixation on "cool." I must give him points for doing this well though. I have it on good authority that this series gets much better, so I will be reading Volume 2 of The Dark Tower.
    • 4/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I'm a tad speechless on this. I like it, a lot, and yet I feel uncertain. King outdid himself with this. He has woven a complex time slipping tale with uncertain motivations... which is why while I love the characters, the bleak atmosphere, the sense of deep history, I never feel as if I completely "get it". I mean really, what the heck is going on here?
      It's like eating something yummy that has a strange slightly unpleasant aftertaste. Or like seeing a terrific hip stylish outfit on a supermodel only to realize once you put it on that your abundant back fat sort of ruins the effect, and that you don't have the right shoes.
      Nevertheless, I'm moving on to the next tale in the gunslinger series with the hope that here I will get some clarity. Hmm. Wish me luck.
    • 5/5

      Oct 3, 2019

      Stepehen King's books are always such a lovely mind f***. I am about to start the 2nd one right now.
    • 3/5

      Aug 23, 2019

      A great—if not a little confusing and perhaps a little overambitious—start to the Dark Tower series. I don't think this book is worth reading as a standalone, but it makes for an excellent prologue to the entire series. Nevertheless, a must-read for King fans.
    • 4/5

      Sep 5, 2017

      I guess it was the excellent way in which the book mixed fantasy, science and above all captivating adventure, all along never stopping and keeping you as if you were tethered to the book.
    • 5/5

      Aug 25, 2017

      I read Stephen King as a kid and for whatever reason this series never appealed to me. My impression at the time included ideas of the wild west gunslingers. Per usual, Stephen King never writes about anything that is "per usual". Great writing.
    • 5/5

      May 12, 2017

      I never tire of this tale. It always has something new to give.
    • 5/5

      Nov 29, 2018

      hey guys are doing well and good book. reading again
      for the first time
    • 3/5

      Nov 24, 2018

      The best part about this edition is the double intro in the beginning. Maybe this book is like a tv show pilot. A table setter for the feast to come. But as a stand alone book, there is nothing special here.
    • 5/5

      Dec 4, 2024

      The dark Tower was suspenseful captivating .. Roland is a hero in his own right... Very captivating read a must
    • 4/5

      Jan 29, 2023

      This book was unsuspecting and left me wanting more. Not a huge King fan, but gave it shot and was not disappointed. Onto book 2!
    • 5/5

      Sep 27, 2020

      Look, you gotta slog through this book. It’s rough, it really is. Don’t give up on the series though, this book is important for setting the tone for the rest of the series. It is basically a book to give you a quick fill in of the world of the gunslinger. Likely, you’ll finish this book not liking Roland (or his world) very much. He’s a hard man to like...until you get to know him. You’ll begin to like him midway through the second book. You’ll have a hard tome putting down the second book, and the following books, you just have to fight your way through this one.
      I am writing this only because I saw so many reviews here where it sounded like a lot of people really didn’t want to finish the series because the first book is so hard to get through. I assure you that the subsequent books are in no way like this one. Unfortunately, if you skip this one and just start on the series from the second book, you’ll be a bit confused down the road. There are some events in this book that seem boring and unimportant right now. You don’t see their import until later books.
      Don’t give up on the series because this first book is hard. Don’t give up on THIS book because it’s hard. I’ve read this series probably 20 times now. You will run into old friends in these books. You will see that the bulk of King’s books revolve around the dark tower and the beam.
    • 5/5

      Sep 8, 2020

      This book will leave you yearning for a lot more of the action.
    • 4/5

      Aug 19, 2022

      Summary: A old school cowboy pursues a mysterious stranager across the breadth of a post-apocalypic desert land.

      Things I liked:

      Prose was restrained and powerful

      "It was the last day, and he knew it"

      Structure of the story was good (classic thirds), by the time I'd made it to the end of the first third I was hooked and had my mind full of questions. In my opinion that's how a story should be.

      Short; at 170 pages this book packed as least as much punch (if not a little bit more) than the 800 page + fantasy pulp I just finished reading. Bravo for doing what you needed to do but not being drawn into doing more.

      Things I thought could be improved:

      Overuse of the word 'sardonic'. Someone else pointed this out in another review, but I had already noticed it myself as I kept looking it up in the ebook dictionary to check if the use was appropriate.

      A bit too much exposition at the end so he meets the guy at the end who seems to pretty much 'tell him the whole plan'. I thought this was unecessery and the whole story (whether taken as a stand-alone or as the first of a series) would have been far more romantic and poignent if he had stuck to the 'show don't tell' principle for this last third. . Almost makes me wonder if the last bit was rewritten to make it fit into the series (kind of like a book version of 'coming up in the next season of The Dark Tower').

      Highlight: Probablly the crazy death dealing shootout in Tull.

    • 5/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I made the mistake of reading this and The Drawing of the Three right when The Wastelands came out and getting totally and completely hooked. I say mistake, because it would be years before the next book came out, and even longer before the series was actually finished. I had to reread the first three before Wizard and Glass, and then by the time the final three books came out, I'd kind of wandered away from genre fiction. I still really want to know how it all ends, though, but of course I've forgotten all but the bare bones of the story, so I'll have to reread everything before tackling the final three.I really loved The Gunslinger when I first read it, and am happy to say that it stood up well to a reread (though this version didn't have Michael Whelan's beautiful artwork).

      1 person found this helpful

    • 1/5

      Feb 8, 2018

      Everthing is not for everybody...

      I just couldn't with this one. I got the spiritual overtones of it, sure, but still, I just couldn't with this one. Offer me a fast-paced, more bone-chilling King masterpiece before the tale of The Gunslinger on any given day, and I'll gladly take it.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 5/5

      Mar 27, 2024

      Not the best book to start the Dark Tower with - I hold The Drawing of the Three as the best standalone book of the series, where this one reads a bit more like a fever dream. But the massacre in Tull is iconic, and the first sentence alone is enough to hook the reader into the story to come. Highly recommend the whole Tower series.

      Long days and pleasant nights. Say true.
    • 2/5

      Apr 22, 2017

      I’m not really a Stephen King fan. But this Dark Tower series is the one I did want to get to. So here I am and I didn’t like the first book. However I have seen on practically every review I’d looked at that everyone else had the same reaction and was advised to finish reading it anyways because the next six books are very worth it; that this book is basically just the essential backdrop to the rest of the series. Because the book wasn’t very long I followed the multiple reviewers’ words and finished the book. Only glad that now I’m finished with it and can move on to the next book. I didn’t find anything fascinating here. Obviously King is a great writer so I couldn’t understand why this was so boring for me. There was a lot of detail about the landscape and the world and the character’s past but not much on the character’s as they are present. I feel like there wasn’t enough of the story, only there was, just in all the things I didn’t care about. It wasn’t terrible. I just didn’t like it. I guess you could think of it like a TV show though. The first episodes are never the best episodes because they have to get the introduction out of the way. If the book had been longer I don’t think I would have taken the time but now I am excited to get to the ‘real’ series.

    Book preview

    The Dark Tower I - Stephen King

    THE GUNSLINGER

    CHAPTER 1

    The Gunslinger

    I

    The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.

    The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions. It was white and blinding and waterless and without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An occasional tombstone sign pointed the way, for once the drifted track that cut its way through the thick crust of alkali had been a highway. Coaches and buckas had followed it. The world had moved on since then. The world had emptied.

    The gunslinger had been struck by a momentary dizziness, a kind of yawing sensation that made the entire world seem ephemeral, almost a thing that could be looked through. It passed and, like the world upon whose hide he walked, he moved on. He passed the miles stolidly, not hurrying, not loafing. A hide waterbag was slung around his middle like a bloated sausage. It was almost full. He had progressed through the khef over many years, and had reached perhaps the fifth level. Had he been a Manni holy man, he might not have even been thirsty; he could have watched his own body dehydrate with clinical, detached attention, watering its crevices and dark inner hollows only when his logic told him it must be done. He was not a Manni, however, nor a follower of the Man Jesus, and considered himself in no way holy. He was just an ordinary pilgrim, in other words, and all he could say with real certainty was that he was thirsty. And even so, he had no particular urge to drink. In a vague way, all this pleased him. It was what the country required, it was a thirsty country, and he had in his long life been nothing if not adaptable.

    Below the waterbag were his guns, carefully weighted to his hands; a plate had been added to each when they had come to him from his father, who had been lighter and not so tall. The two belts crisscrossed above his crotch. The holsters were oiled too deeply for even this Philistine sun to crack. The stocks of the guns were sandalwood, yellow and finely grained. Rawhide tiedowns held the holsters loosely to his thighs, and they swung a bit with his step; they had rubbed away the bluing of his jeans (and thinned the cloth) in a pair of arcs that looked almost like smiles. The brass casings of the cartridges looped into the gun-belts heliographed in the sun. There were fewer now. The leather made subtle creaking noises.

    His shirt, the no-color of rain or dust, was open at the throat, with a rawhide thong dangling loosely in hand-punched eyelets. His hat was gone. So was the horn he had once carried; gone for years, that horn, spilled from the hand of a dying friend, and he missed them both.

    He breasted a gently rising dune (although there was no sand here; the desert was hardpan, and even the harsh winds that blew when dark came raised only an aggravating harsh dust like scouring powder) and saw the kicked remains of a tiny campfire on the lee side, the side the sun would quit earliest. Small signs like this, once more affirming the man in black’s possible humanity, never failed to please him. His lips stretched in the pitted, flaked remains of his face. The grin was gruesome, painful. He squatted.

    His quarry had burned the devil-grass, of course. It was the only thing out here that would burn. It burned with a greasy, flat light, and it burned slow. Border dwellers had told him that devils lived even in the flames. They burned it but would not look into the light. They said the devils hypnotized, beckoned, would eventually draw the one who looked into the fires. And the next man foolish enough to look into the fire might see you.

    The burned grass was crisscrossed in the now familiar ideographic pattern, and crumbled to gray senselessness before the gunslinger’s prodding hand. There was nothing in the remains but a charred scrap of bacon, which he ate thoughtfully. It had always been this way. The gunslinger had followed the man in black across the desert for two months now, across the endless, screamingly monotonous purgatorial wastes, and had yet to find spoor other than the hygienic sterile ideographs of the man in black’s campfires. He had not found a can, a bottle, or a waterbag (the gunslinger had left four of those behind, like dead snakeskins). He hadn’t found any dung. He assumed the man in black buried it.

    Perhaps the campfires were a message, spelled out one Great Letter at a time. Keep your distance, partner, it might say. Or, The end draweth nigh. Or maybe even, Come and get me. It didn’t matter what they said or didn’t say. He had no interest in messages, if messages they were. What mattered was that these remains were as cold as all the others. Yet he had gained. He knew he was closer, but did not know how he knew. A kind of smell, perhaps. That didn’t matter, either. He would keep going until something changed, and if nothing changed, he would keep going, anyway. There would be water if God willed it, the old-timers said. Water if God willed it, even in the desert. The gunslinger stood up, brushing his hands.

    No other trace; the wind, razor-sharp, had of course filed away even what scant tracks the hardpan might once have held. No man-scat, no cast-off trash, never a sign of where those things might have been buried. Nothing. Only these cold campfires along the ancient highway moving southeast and the relentless range-finder in his own head. Although of course it was more than that; the pull southeast was more than just a sense of direction, was even more than magnetism.

    He sat down and allowed himself a short pull from the waterbag. He thought of that momentary dizziness earlier in the day, that sense of being almost untethered from the world, and wondered what it might have meant. Why should that dizziness make him think of his horn and the last of his old friends, both lost so long ago at Jericho Hill? He still had the guns—his father’s guns—and surely they were more important than horns… or even friends.

    Weren’t they?

    The question was oddly troubling, but since there seemed to be no answer but the obvious one, he put it aside, possibly for later consideration. He scanned the desert and then looked up at the sun, which was now sliding into a far quadrant of the sky that was, disturbingly, not quite true west. He got up, removed his threadbare gloves from his belt, and began to pull devilgrass for his own fire, which he laid over the ashes the man in black had left. He found the irony, like his thirst, bitterly appealing.

    He did not take the flint and steel from his purse until the remains of the day were only fugitive heat in the ground beneath him and a sardonic orange line on the monochrome horizon. He sat with his gunna drawn across his lap and watched the southeast patiently, looking toward the mountains, not hoping to see the thin straight line of smoke from a new campfire, not expecting to see an orange spark of flame, but watching anyway because watching was a part of it, and had its own bitter satisfaction. You will not see what you do not look for, maggot, Cort would have said. Open the gobs the gods gave ya, will ya not?

    But there was nothing. He was close, but only relatively so. Not close enough to see smoke at dusk, or the orange wink of a campfire.

    He laid the flint down the steel rod and struck his spark to the dry, shredded grass, muttering the old and powerful nonsense words as he did: Spark-a-dark, where’s my sire? Will I lay me? Will I stay me? Bless this camp with fire. It was strange how some of childhood’s words and ways fell at the wayside and were left behind, while others clamped tight and rode for life, growing the heavier to carry as time passed.

    He lay down upwind of his little blazon, letting the dreamsmoke blow out toward the waste. The wind, except for occasional gyrating dust-devils, was constant.

    Above, the stars were unwinking, also constant. Suns and worlds by the million. Dizzying constellations, cold fire in every primary hue. As he watched, the sky washed from violet to ebony. A meteor etched a brief, spectacular arc below Old Mother and winked out. The fire threw strange shadows as the devil-grass burned its slow way down into new patterns—not ideograms but a straightforward crisscross vaguely frightening in its own no-nonsense surety. He had laid his fuel in a pattern that was not artful but only workable. It spoke of blacks and whites. It spoke of a man who might straighten bad pictures in strange hotel rooms. The fire burned its steady, slow flame, and phantoms danced in its incandescent core. The gunslinger did not see. The two patterns, art and craft, were welded together as he slept. The wind moaned, a witch with cancer in her belly. Every now and then a perverse downdraft would make the smoke whirl and puff toward him and he breathed some of it in. It built dreams in the same way that a small irritant may build a pearl in an oyster. The gunslinger occasionally moaned with the wind. The stars were as indifferent to this as they were to wars, crucifixions, resurrections. This also would have pleased him.

    II

    He had come down off the last of the foothills leading the mule, whose eyes were already dead and bulging with the heat. He had passed the last town three weeks before, and since then there had only been the deserted coach track and an occasional huddle of border dwellers’ sod dwellings. The huddles had degenerated into single dwellings, most inhabited by lepers or madmen. He found the madmen better company. One had given him a stainless steel Silva compass and bade him give it to the Man Jesus. The gunslinger took it gravely. If he saw Him, he would turn over the compass. He did not expect that he would, but anything was possible. Once he saw a taheen—this one a man with a raven’s head—but the misbegotten thing fled at his hail, cawing what might have been words. What might even have been curses.

    Five days had passed since the last hut, and he had begun to suspect there would be no more when he topped the last eroded hill and saw the familiar low-backed sod roof.

    The dweller, a surprisingly young man with a wild shock of strawberry hair that reached almost to his waist, was weeding a scrawny stand of corn with zealous abandon. The mule let out a wheezing grunt and the dweller looked up, glaring blue eyes coming target-center on the gunslinger in a moment. The dweller was unarmed, with no bolt nor bah the gunslinger could see. He raised both hands in curt salute to the stranger and then bent to the corn again, humping up the row next to his hut with back bent, tossing devil-grass and an occasional stunted corn plant over his shoulder. His hair flopped and flew in the wind that now came directly from the desert, with nothing to break

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