Great Expectations> Horrormeister King presents “The Green Mile,” a serial novel in the Dickensian tradition

Once he got past some of the crass language, Charles Dickens would probably be quite flattered by Stephen King’s “The Green Mile.” Published serially, in six installments, “The Green Mile Part 1,” which went on sale Monday, is a literary experiment that seeks to find out if the Dickensian method of publishing novels in snippets will appeal to a modern readership.

That’s not just any readership, of course. It’s the readership of Stephen King, dubbed on this book’s jacket-flap bio as the “world’s bestselling novelist.” And there’s bound to be lots of data — in the form of book sales — for King and his publishers to tabulate.

But that’s not the reason Dickens would be flattered. In “The Two Dead Girls,” part one of King’s amusing little investigation, he has borrowed not just the method, but also the clever madness of Dickens’ world. King has admitted that he’s no Dickens, but he is having fun with a form totally indebted to the English writer.

In a snappy and teasing style, King, like Dickens, sets the reader up by giving little hints about what is yet to come, and what will never be. He leads you on and makes you wonder what’s around the corner. It’s nothing particularly new for the Master of Suspense, but it’s a nice change to read a King book that doesn’t test your upper-body strength.

Dickens’ literary habits are invoked most entertainingly in King’s choice of names for his characters: Dr. Haverstrom, Old Toot Toot, Mr. Jingles, Harry Terwilliger, Arlen Bitterbuck, Melinda Moore, William Wharton (Even old Dickens himself makes an appearance in a reference to Scrooge).

Presumably, the most symbolic name is Trapingus County, where the central murder of this book takes place. Indeed, King hopes he’ll be “trapping us” with this first installment. After a lengthy introduction in which King addresses the “Constant Reader” and explains the roots of this project, the trap is set in the true tradition of I’ve-got-you-by-the-neck (not exactly the words King would use) storytelling.

As with King’s novelette “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption,” this story is a prison tale and is recounted by an insider, the death-row superintendent at a state penitentiary called Cold Mountain. He is a thoughtful man with a loving wife and a wicked urinary infection.

It is the Deep South in 1932, the year John Coffey arrives to walk the Green Mile, a lime-colored linoleum hallway, the last path criminals walk as they head to Old Sparky, also called Big Juicy, and better known as the electric chair.

Coffey, a remarkably large black man who is illiterate and meek as an immobile boulder, has been convicted for the rape and murder of the 9-year-old Detterick twins. He was caught red-handed — literally — howling on the banks of the Trapingus River and holding a bloodied, blond-headed twin in each arm. Now he is at Cold Mountain hoping for a night light to ward off his fears and awaiting his execution.

As is Eduard Delacroix, an elusive — and apparently illusive — Cajun who raped a young girl and fried six other people when trying to dispose of her body by burning it. Delacroix’s companion is Mr. Jingles, a little brown mouse, a nearly mystical creature who is both obedient and intelligent. There’s some magic in their cell, but we don’t know exactly what that means yet.

At this point, it’s hard to tell where King may go with the story. This first installment is mostly presentation of the characters, the murders, scenery — all of which are subject to King’s quirky humor. If, however, you’re clever enough to figure out why the mouse chooses Delacroix as his special friend, you can enter The Green Mile Contest, which has an official entry form and rules at the end of the book, and be one of six readers to win an autographed manuscript of the book.

What is clear, descriptively clear, is that a murder has been committed and that Coffey is remorseful, though that might not be related to his conviction. There is also a strange occurrence involving a spool and Delacroix’s death, and Mr. Jingles has disappeared, but has left behind an odor of peppermint and several wood splints colored with crayon, both of which are immensely interesting to the narrator and his guard.

Here are some characters worth keeping an eye on: Klaus Detterick (the girls’ father), Percy Wetmore (an over-eager prison guard with connections in high places), and William Wharton (a 19-year-old murderer with “Billy the Kid” tattooed on his forearm and a destiny to spend time in the restraint room). And we are told that Delacroix, who is not fully developed yet, will take on a much larger, more spellbinding role in the future.

For those who really are constant readers of King’s books, “The Two Dead Girls” is tame so far. There’s no question that he traps you with the plot; murder mysteries have an intrigue whether they’re on the front page of a newspaper or in King’s imagination. But there are also lovely passages when King is at his writerly best, as well as crude ones where King launches his usual crank sex jokes. He says in his introductory remarks that his mother used to read to him and his brother when they were young, but you can bet she wasn’t reading about a gang rape of Popeye’s Olive Oyl (a topic which comes up in reference to reading material at the prison).

Some may find that “The Two Dead Girls” has some slippery racial politics. To that end, it’s worth remembering that this is the 1930s and the Deep South. Neither has a reputation for being a particularly enlightened representation of race relations.

Coincidentally, King’s book is being released when a true death-row tale — “Dead Man Walking” — has become popular, and the two books actually share some imagery and storyline. Both are horror tales in their own way, and we can be thankful, at least, that King’s is fiction.

So far, this isn’t King’s most suspenseful or gory work, and he continues to suffer from I-need-an-editor-itis, but he also leaves you wanting to know more, which you will get when “The Green Mile, Part II: The Mouse on the Mile” arrives at bookstores April 29.