Elevation: A Novel

Weather again plays an important role in Chapter 6. Shortly after Scott agrees with Bob’s observation that he’s handling his condition extremely well, a snowstorm shows him—and readers—the pragmatic difficulties of weightlessness. The main outcome of this inclement weather—a thin crust of ice over the ground—is one most people deal with successfully on a regular basis. But Scott finds this minor difficulty almost impassable. As he becomes less vulnerable to human sources of pain, like prejudice, fatigue, or anger, he becomes more vulnerable to the forces of nature—since humans evolved to use the physics of gravity to navigate our natural environment, being immune to its effects makes physical existence on Earth impossible. Eventually, Scott notes that “everything had become difficult” (126): Just as his weight helped him move and function effectively, managing the sources of pain that weight represents can help humans survive. Being completely disconnected from all earthly attachments is no longer being human.

As “Zero Day” nears and Scott prepares to say goodbye to his friends and his life, King uses pathos to depict Scott contemplating what’s important to him. After arranging for Mike to take his cat, Scott thinks about “what giving things away meant—especially things that were also valued friends” (119). Passing on remembrances is part of end-of-life preparations; Scott’s acceptance of The Inevitability and Transcendence of Death means that he can successfully and thoughtfully plan for the care of the creature that has so far been dependent on him. Scott’s ability to remain optimistic in the face of his looming demise is made possible, in part, because of friendship. The relationships he’s formed with Deirdre, Missy, Bob, Myra, and Mike demonstrate how his life has made a difference in the world, giving it meaning. Through these bonds, he’s learned “one of life’s great truths” (130), that saying goodbye to friends is the only thing harder than accepting one’s own death. His words to his friends at their final dinner together—“I want to say that I wish we had more time. You’ve been good friends to me” (129)—evoke a sorrowful and heartwarming mood.

The metaphoric meaning of gravity Deirdre attributes to “something she’d read in college—Faulkner, maybe” (139), further develops the symbolism of Scott’s weight loss. The metaphor, as she remembers it, says gravity “is the anchor that pulls us down into our graves” (139). Thus, it can represent all the things that shorten human life, including biological decay of the body and all the environmental and emotional stressors that weaken the spirit. If gravity’s power over Scott has lessened, it means the weight he’s losing symbolizes these same things. Chapter 6’s title, “The Incredible Lightness of Being,” also develops the concept, portraying Scott’s Weightlessness as Liberation From Human Suffering. King is playing with the title of Milan Kundera’s famous novel The Unbearable Lightness of Being, recasting the first adjective to argue that lightness is necessary for the cessation of suffering and allows humans to transcend themselves to impact the world in positive ways.

Scott approaches his inevitable death with optimism and acceptance. The feeling of elevation he experiences due to his mysterious condition is a significant factor. Missy compares this elevation to the way Deirdre feels when she runs. It’s fitting, then, that Deirdre compares Scott’s last moments of life to reaching the finish line of a race: “Come on, Scott, come on, you’re almost at the finish line, it’s your race to win, your tape to break through” (145). This metaphor couches death as a victory, a successful completion of the marathon. Scott’s enigmatic condition enables him to experience transcendence that the text suggests may accompany death. As he floats above the town of Castle Rock, Scott considers that perhaps, “in their time of dying, everyone rises” (144). He’s referring to the joyful uplift he’s felt, suggesting that if we all knew that this feeling awaited them in death—that like Scott they would continue “to gain elevation, rising above the earth’s mortal grip” (146)—we too might approach death with acceptance and optimism.