Relationship between Stuart Redman and Glen Bateman

Stuart Redman and Glen Bateman meet on the afternoon of July 3, 1990, when Stu, walking east on Route 302 after escaping the Stovington Plague Control Center, encounters Glen painting a watercolor by the roadside. Glen’s dog Kojak greets Stu joyfully, and Glen invites him to lunch, offering caviar, pepperoni, sardines, and fig bars. Over the meal, Glen reveals he was an assistant professor of sociology at Woodsville Community College, a self-described “horrible painter” and “eccentric but cheerful” man who has accepted the superflu epidemic with equanimity because it allows him to retire and paint full-time. Stu, a quiet East Texan who worked in a calculator factory, finds himself drawn to Glen’s garrulous, analytical mind. They share beer from a stream-cooled six-pack, and Glen toasts “to us, Stu. May we have happy days, satisfied minds, and little or no low back pain.” Stu accepts Glen’s invitation to spend the night in Woodsville, and they walk home together, taking turns wheeling Glen’s piano stool and painting supplies in a wheelbarrow. That night, Stu wakes from a nightmare about the dark man and hears Kojak moaning in his sleep, a shared unease that foreshadows the bond between them.

Intellectual Partnership and the Founding of the Free Zone

Glen’s sociological perspective becomes a guiding force for Stu as they travel west. On the road, Glen articulates his theories about the post-plague world: that technological know-how will replace gold as the medium of exchange, that small communities may become primitive dictatorships, and that the human race’s gregarious nature will lead to new conflicts. Stu listens intently, often asking questions that push Glen to clarify his ideas. When they meet Fran Goldsmith and Harold Lauder, Glen’s analysis of the dreams—the shared visions of Mother Abagail and the dark man—helps the group understand their collective psychic experience. In Boulder, Glen and Stu work closely on the ad hoc committee that becomes the Free Zone Committee. Glen drafts the agenda for the first mass meeting, proposing the ratification of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and Stu serves as moderator. Their partnership is marked by a running banter—Stu calls Glen “baldy,” and Glen calls Stu “East Texas”—that leavens the gravity of their work. Glen tells Stu, “You’re a man of few words. I hope you don’t feel that I’m dancing on the grave of the world, so to speak,” and Stu replies, “It’s not really the end. Just… intermission.” Glen calls this “rather apt.”

Shared Leadership and the Final Commission

After the explosion that kills Nick Andros and Susan Stern, the surviving committee members—Stu, Glen, Larry Underwood, and Ralph Brentner—are summoned to Mother Abagail’s deathbed. She charges them to walk west, unarmed and without supplies, to confront Randall Flagg. Stu is designated the leader, with Larry to succeed him if he falls. Glen accepts the mission with characteristic irony, saying, “After fifty years of confirmed agnosticism, it seems to be my fate to follow an old black woman’s God into the jaws of death.” During the long walk, Glen’s arthritis worsens, but he never complains. He explains to the others that their journey is a form of spiritual purification, an “emptying-out process” that will make them vessels for divine power. Stu relies on Glen’s wisdom to sustain the group’s morale. When Stu breaks his leg and must be left behind, Glen gives him a bottle of morphine-based pills and says, “Pull the plug if you have to, Stuart. Don’t screw around.” Stu replies, “I will fear no evil, right?” and Glen answers, “Right!” Their goodbye is brief but profound, a testament to the trust between them.

Glen’s Death and Stu’s Grief

Glen is captured by Flagg’s men and imprisoned in the Las Vegas County Jail. When Flagg and Lloyd Henreid come to his cell, Glen faces them with defiant humor. He laughs at Flagg’s threats, calling him “the last magician of rational thought” and telling Lloyd, “If you have to shoot somebody, Mr. Henreid, shoot him.” Lloyd shoots Glen multiple times, killing him. Glen’s last words are a whisper: “It’s all right, Mr. Henreid. You don’t know any better.” Stu, recovering from his broken leg and pneumonia in Grand Junction, does not learn of Glen’s death until he returns to Boulder. On Christmas morning, as he gives Tom Cullen a gift, Stu thinks of Glen and the others who died: “He suddenly missed Glen, missed Larry, missed Ralph with his cocked-back hat. Suddenly he missed them all, the ones who were gone, missed them terribly.” Later, sitting on Mother Abagail’s porch, Stu reflects on the future and hears Glen’s voice in his mind, warning against the dangers of re-creating the old systems of power. He thinks, “It was organization that always seemed to cause the problem. When the cells began to clump together and grow dark.” Glen’s sociological insights continue to shape Stu’s worldview long after his death.

Thematic Significance

The relationship between Stu and Glen embodies the novel’s central tension between action and reflection, pragmatism and theory. Stu provides the steady, decisive leadership that the Free Zone needs, while Glen supplies the intellectual framework that helps them understand their situation. Their friendship demonstrates that survival in the post-plague world requires both practical competence and the ability to think critically about the past. Glen’s death, like those of Nick and Susan, underscores the cost of the confrontation with Flagg, but his ideas live on in Stu’s mind, influencing his decisions about the future. The bond between the quiet Texan and the talkative sociologist is a reminder that even in the darkest times, human connection and shared purpose can sustain hope.