The Road

I am going to be brutally honest. Before I read The Road, I found Cormac McCarthy to be one of my least favorite authors. I know, how dare I utter such; however, it was true. In high school, I tried my best to read All The Pretty Horses for AP literature, but it's one of the few books that I entirely gave up on--the only other that comes to mind is Wuthering Heights. The Bronte sisters and I are not friends. I do blame my failure on my own folly: attempting to read a descriptively poetic novel about the southwest, which was something that I could honestly care less about, especially then. However, I gave McCarthy a second try when I read No Country For Old Men. Once again, I thought that the plot was fascinatingly dark and unpredictable, but it was, for me, such a hard book to read. It had truly incredible moments, don't get me wrong, but it also sagged in sequences that made me think: I am incredibly bored. Never a good sign. The movie No Country for Old Men, on the other hand, was the best incarnation of McCarthy's work-- thanks to the Coen brothers. I would definitely recommend seeing the movie over the book.

I must admit that I begrudgingly gave Mr. McCarthy another chance--like he cares--because of not only good word of mouth buzz, but also because of the Pulitzer that he won for the novel. It was a great decision on my part. After finishing The Road, I really have no recollection of the former frustration that I had when reading his works. With the publication of The Road, Cormac McCarthy has penned a stunningly simplistic book that is both extremely frightening and truly heartbreaking. It is a masterwork: a real gem.

The post-apocalyptic south provides the setting for the journey of a father and his young son who are perpetual transients on a mission to reach the coast, where they feel that a better likelihood of food and friendly survivors exists. It is unclear what event caused the utter destruction of the majority of human life--nuclear disaster or freak natural occurrences--but a thick sheet of grey ash covers every inch of the remaining earth. The world that now exists is barren, lawless, cold, and truly bleak; an environment that begs the question: Why continue to live? Not only do the father and son have to fight the cruel elements, but they also have to travel as swiftly as possible in order to avoid possible looters and gangs of cannibals, who have resorted to feasting on other humans due to the lack of food. There journey tests the capacity of human beings to remain "human" in a world conducive to chaos and savagery.

Throughout the novel, McCarthy explores the masculine relationship between a father and son. Inspired by his own experiences with his son, McCarthy succeeds in capturing the concise, yet truthfully honest dialogue between the both the boy and his father. Their journey tests each others trust, challenges their motives, and illustrates the interesting and very atypical relationship that fathers and their sons experience. In this case, their union is not loveless by any means; however, the father's unfamiliarity with care giving and the boys' innocence make for a very touching and memorable point to chart throughout the novel.

The Road poses a couple of points that I also believe deserve attention: when left with nothing, would you be willing to help someone less fortunate, and how far would you really go to defend your family? These aren't new circumstances at all; these circumstances can be found in fundamental biblical parables that most people learn growing up, but the way that they are presented in The Road is quite refreshing.

The Road is compelling, clever, and clear. Be forewarned: You will not be able to put it down. If your are looking for quintessential McCarthy--this isn't it. However, you will laugh, cringe, and undoubtedly cry during Cormac McCarthy's latest novel that departs from his previous subject matter, yet still reinforces his title in society: one of the great living American novelists.