Ain't no apocalypse like a poetic apocalypse

I have nearly finished Cormac McCarthy's The Road, which I have been glued to for two days. At one point my father and I moved a mattress into the garage and I felt like I had inadvertently lurched into the book. I have only heard praise for it and when you read it you can understand why. It is told in sparing but beautifully constructed poetry. In such a way that the horrific events you are reading are rendered with the thoughtful stillness of one gazing upon a body no longer contorted with pain. Thus it is suitable and makes the unbearable bearable. You get the sensation that the protagonists are diminutive figures in a vast nothingness in the same way that the sentences are brief tableaus that often need to be figured out, as if you're squinting into the distance. It is a work that I know will stay with me for a long time. In terms of style as much as content. Also, the cover of the 2010 Picador edition is so good that I had to include it.

I don't want to presume to push you around reader, but, BUY THIS BOOK! It is as much about the humanity of now as it is a warning for those of the future. Basically, it's great.

No comments: