Review: The world has turned to gray. The sky remains the same color of leaden despair day after day. The ground smolders, powdered in ash and the charred remains of civilization. When night descends, the land is engulfed in a darkness more complete than anything one can imagine. At times there is the faint flicker of a light, solitary and weak, hopeful and hopeless. The light belongs to a boy and his father. The two travel through post-apocalyptic America on the concrete remnants of our vast highway system, pushing before them a grocery cart filled with their meager supplies.
They stick to the road unflaggingly and hope to follow it to a destination which will provide them with warmth and, they hope, a better life. Death hunts them along way cloaked in starvation, dehydration, hypothermia, viral infections and other people. The two are not the only survivors. Man hunts man with a desperation born of starvation, and when the lonely pair are confronted by their fellows, they must run for their lives. The land of opportunity has become the land of the bleak. The land of the brave has become the land of the bestial.

The man and the boy lurch from one moment to the next, driven on by their fear and their dreams and their hunger. And always before them and always behind them is the road they must walk upon.

Recommendation: I only knew of Cormac McCarthy because of the critical praise heaped upon his book-turned-movie “No Country For Old Men”. I did not see the movie in the theatre, but I did manage to watch it on DVD. It was a strange movie, and while it did keep me curious and relatively engaged, it ended somewhat abruptly. I have my own theories about the movie and if you feel so inclined, I would be willing to discuss them. I found The Road much more accessible.

The prose is sparse and irregular at times. There are no quotation marks and his use of pronouns borders on abuse at times. While it is not written in first person, the narration gives you the impression that it is, and it is does not take long to get drawn into the thoughts and emotions of the father. Because the author limits the reader to such a narrow perspective, the book grips the reader with apprehension and anxiety. I found myself reading the book late at night (bad idea) and feeling my heart twist in trepidation and fear. I was genuinely frightened and horrified at times. If I had one, I would have kept a baseball bat next to my bed. I can imagine this book coming with a parental advisory sticker: disturbing situations and terrifying moments abound.

I am loathe to read any more books by McCarthy for a couple of reasons. The first is that I have found his work (book and movie) to be strikingly grim, uncompromising, and discouraging. The second is that sitting on the couch shivering in fright and trying to think happy thoughts makes me feel “uncool” and “not manly”. If this ever becomes a movie, I believe that the trailer will include this line: Don’t travel the road alone.

McCarthy, Cormac. The Road. Vintage Books, New York, 2006

Currently Reading: The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. (still!)

On Deck: When the Crocodile Eats the Sun by Peter Godwin