The ending of 'Joyland' is this bittersweet mix of closure and lingering melancholy that stuck with me for days. Devin Jones, our narrator, finally solves the mystery of Linda Gray's murder at the amusement park, but it’s not some grand showdown—it’s quiet, almost accidental. The real killer, a man named Bradley Easterbrook, gets his comeuppance in this understated, almost cosmic way when a carny
ghost (maybe Linda herself?) causes his fatal heart attack. What gutted me, though, was Devin’s final conversation with Mike Ross, the dying kid who believed in the park’s magic. Mike’s death isn’t dramatized; it’s just… there, like life often is.
king leaves Devin older, wiser, and still carrying that summer’s ghosts—both literal and emotional. It’s less about the thrill of solving a cold case and more about how those fleeting seasons of youth shape us.
What I adore is how King resists tidy resolutions. The supernatural elements stay ambiguous—was Linda’s ghost real, or just Devin’s guilt manifesting? The park’s closing mirrors Devin’s loss of innocence, but there’s this tiny spark of hope when he reconnects with Annie, Mike’s mom, years later. It’s got that classic King humanity where the horror isn’t just the murder, but time
passing, love lost, and the way memories haunt like echoes of laughter down empty park alleys.