"The Road" by Cormac McCarthy

Aha! Now I understand why everyone makes such a big deal of Cormac McCarthy! Is is because he is, in fact, a big deal. When I read "All the Pretty Horses" last year, I was a bit underwhelmed. Though I enjoyed it, I had my qualms with the book and grew slightly skeptical of Cormac McCarthy's reputation as a badass. It would be an understatement to say that, with "The Road", McCarthy flipped my wig.

From the very first page, "The Road" rendered me helpless and gasping under its surprising power. This book is something special. It's superbly thought out, painfully controlled, emotionally exhausting, it challenges, it stuns with beauty, and you will never have read anything like it. The book has a sense of eternity to it; it makes you feel as if it has always been out there, and you knew it, and by reading it you are just now fully realizing it. Possibly because the story is so fundamental, so archetypal, and simultaneously so shocking and out-there that, though you suspected it, you are still flabbergasted by its absurd voltage.

Okeedoke. That's enough of that. Let's venture some specifics:


"The Road" is the story of a father and son journeying across a desolate, post-apocalyptic landscape with an uncertain destination. Whatever horrific catastrophe that scorched the Earth and all its cities occurred some many years ago, and now, the burnt, sterile land grows cold under the thick layer of ubiquitous smog. The only survivors wander the land starving and scared, save for the roaming gangs of desperate cannibals. We watch as the unnamed father and son live out their hopeless lives and endure twisted incident after twisted incident. In the face of horror, their human spirit pushes them on. This is the story of their wandering.

An analogy -
Cormac McCarthy : authors :: the guy with a natural skill for smartly fitting a huge quantity of luggage into a small trunk : luggage packers
On both the macro and the micro levels, Cormac McCarthy is an author with the oft-underestimated skill of efficiency. He's not like yours truly who fritters away the readers time with obfuscating pleonasm. Oh, no! He's actually good. On the macro scale, the (relatively short) book as a whole works on a number of different levels: we have a travel tale, an apocalypse story, a book of existential philosophy, sci-fi, a grail myth, a warning, a discussion of man's moral foundations, post-modernism, and a unique twist on the meaning of love. On the micro level, I cannot think of another author short of Hemingway that so capably and elegantly wrings so much out of every single sentence. There isn't a wasted word in the book. With a deceptively detached and slow cadence, every phrase is masterfully manipulated for maximum impact. Like a surgeon who uses tiny, specific tools to work miracles.

I think this book would rightfully fall into the "Horror" section of a book store. Above all else that impressed me about this book, never in my life have I ever read a book that gave me the heebiejeebies like "The Road". Terrifying imagery, ungodly incidents, a sense of worldly dread, and the darkest possible perspective on our collective fate (save the ending) all combine in this work of pure horror. I made the mistake of starting this book at 12:30 am, and did not calm myself to sleep until the sun came up... and I'm not easily scared. There are scenes from "The Road" I will never forget.

And, like most of my favorite books, "The Road" is capable of juxtaposing a sense of startling beauty against the darkness. Above all, the relationship between the boy and the father is particularly awesome. Their love is founded on simple interdependence, the fusion of their two worlds into a single shared experience, and absolute trust. The interplay between their characters is truly touching. In the face of total loss and complete devastation, they persist together. Also, through the murk of desolation and wrath, "The Road" shines a beacon. There is something vaguely alluded to about the boy and what he represents that sparks possibility in the mind of the reader. I believe McCarthy purposefully left this aspect of the book open and inconclusive, but there is certainly something with potential in this boy that has yet to manifest. And finally, there exists a nuanced beauty in the simple grace with which the author describes his fallen world. Mesmerizing.

All in all, this was one of the most inventive, impressive, and moving books I have had the pleasure to read in quite some time. From the very beginning, I felt compelled by this book. A twisted, smart ride along the edges of humanity.

Now that I have made you salivate like the dogs you are, I will reward you with the meat: my selection of quotes from Cormac McCarthy's "The Road".

"The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void." pg 8

"Creedless shells of men tottering down the causeways like migrants in a feverland. The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night." 28

"Where you've nothing else construct ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them." 74

"Where men cant live gods fare no better. You'll see. It's better to be alone." 172

"Perhaps in the world's destruction it would be possible at last to see how it was made. Oceans, mountains. The ponderous counterspectacle of things ceasing to be. The sweeping waste, hydroptic and coldly secular. The silence." 274

Scared yet? You should be.

A thousand splendid words on "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

With the publication of his first and only other novel, "The Kite Runner", Khaled Hosseini penetrated the literary scene only 6 years ago. As it rose to the top of the best seller lists, "The Kite Runner" brought Hosseini fame and recognition to American readers. When his highly anticipated follow up book "A Thousand Splendid Suns" was released in 2007, he was confirmed as a significant and unique voice in contemporary fiction. Though I have seen the film adaptation of "The Kite Runner", I haven't read it. I liked the movie though, and when I found "A Thousand Splendid Suns" on sale for $5 at the splendid St. Louis Book Fair, I said 'what the hey?'. Read on:


I suppose the first thing that must be said is that Khaled Hosseini is Afghani. He hales from Afghanistan (go ahead. don't be embarrassed. go look it up and find out where it is. I'll wait...). You might have heard a little something in the news about a war in some obscure country in the middle of Asia. Ring a bell? Well, that's Afghanistan. Trust me, I am no Afghanologist myself. I think most Americans could give a rat's ass about the poor place, and its just so confusing. Well, it turns out that some interesting, sad, and unbelievable things have happened there over the last 50 years. Both of Hosseini's books are based on Afghani people weathering the strange and dramatic twists of their country's history, and this proves to be fairly educational to the reader.

Afghanistan is one of those pitiable victims of the Age of Superpowers. As it is located at the crux of the world, the place has ebbed and flowed on the whim of conquerors for millennia. It's not really a new thing, but the political unrest that has plagued the nation since the Soviets invaded during the Cold War has proved extraordinarily damaging. Afghanistan's people, economy, agriculture, culture, and history have all suffered tremendously as the country has been abandoned and conquered by horrific forces these past decades. Though I can't say I understood or remembered all of the factoids about the country's history that Hosseini dumps into this novel, I can say that the historical knowledge and context that he gives us enhances the appeal of this book greatly. It was a critical aspect to the book, in my opinion.

"A Thousand Splendid Suns" is the intertwined tales of two Afghani women that follow different paths in life, both equally brutal. As the Communists leave the country and the power vacuum is filled with increasingly archaic and draconian rulers, their lives and their country spiral down in a double helix of horror. Oppressive phallocentrism, fascist dogma, misogyny, injustice, and a sense of international invisibility plague the lives of these people. Through the characters' sad lives and their crystal clear understanding of their world, this book criticizes all the tragedy that results from their history. The book is a clear statement on women's rights, fanatical religion, the farce of politics, poverty, the significance of history/art, and love.

The story line in this book is riveting, fast moving, and is ready made for a movie. Much like "The Kite Runner," there is a clear intention from the beginning that this is movie material. And I guess that is where my first criticism will take root. As much as I enjoyed it and found insight and beauty in this book, it is clearly a bestselling, page-turning, Hollywood wet dream. At times, I felt like I was reading "The DaVinci Code" or something (sorry Hosseini, I know that was harsh). It doesn't necessarily discredit the book, but it does make the story line more predictable and lessens the literary seriousness of work. Ah, well.

All in all, the book was a gripping, fast, emotional, and compelling read, and I would certainly suggest it to a select portion of my friends and family. If anything, take the 3 hours needed to read it just to find out a little more about the tortured but dignified people of Afghanistan. The book really did help me understand and empathize with their history, and I figure, if my country is bombing a place, I should at least try to learn something about it. Right?

Quote time!!
"Learn this now and learn it well, my daughter: Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. Always."

"One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls." -from an ancient poem about Kabul

"The only enemy an Afghan cannot defeat is himself."

"An American Dream" by Norman Mailer

I had bought this book sometime ago, put it on my shelf, and forget about it immediately. I had never read a Norman Mailer book before, and though the name was well known to me, I was completely unfamiliar with both his life and his works. As an introduction to the legendary career of one of American history's truly epic characters, "An American Dream" was a real kick in the pants. Having possessed no context for the tone of the book, I was a little shocked. This book is offensive! And, if you are familiar at all with my tastes in art, you would know I appreciate offensive.

If you didn't know, now you know: Norman Mailer is one of the bad dudes of the 20th century. After finishing his book, I had to go Wikipedia him. The dude lived one helluva life. Raised in Brooklyn, Mailer attended Harvard University, fought in WWII in the Philippines, co-founded the Village Voice, won the Pulitzer Prize twice and the National Book Award, stabbed one of his 6 wives with a penknife in the middle of a party, and helped parole a convicted killer who, 6 weeks later, killed another victim. He fought many demons in his day, and it is often said that the main character in "An American Dream", Stephen Rojack, is somewhat autobiographical. That is not a good thing for Norman Mailer, I must say.

"An American Dream" is all about one guy: Stephen Rojack. A denizen of dismal New York City, Rojack is a decorated WWII vet, an ex-congressman, a university professor, a TV personality, and an all around successful society type. When he married the wicked, influential, and matronly Deborah, he married the only daughter of the billionaire boss-man Oswald Barney Kelly. When he killed Deborah by strangling her and then dumping her body out of a highrise, he married the filthy, haunted fate of a sick man.

The story opens with the story of how Rojack, during a German battle in WWII, maniacally and robotically stormed a defended hill and blew up 4 enemy gunmen, thereby defending his troop and conquering the day. The significance of that experience resonates throughout the rest of the story. We find connected thoughts and emotions, and small rememberences of the day he first killed. It may even be suggested that this experience dramatically effects Rojack's morality and sense of superstition. I say this because everything that happens subsequently is a delerious nightmare.

This book is dark. Really dark for its publication in 1965. This book is dedicated to chronicling about 2 days in the recent life of Stephen Rojack, and the man is truly a monster. A raging alcoholic, a liar, a killer, a psychotic, and a nymphomaniac, the man is governed by forces he cannot come to grips with. He is a puppet, and a wacked-out puppet at that. He is extraordinarily superstitous and places his fate in ritual, he lives out the moral battle between God and Satan, he is capricious and controlled by his vascillating moods, and he always makes the wrong choice. The man's breath reeks of cigarettes, gin, and hate. I was often reminded of pulp fiction writing in this book. Rojack and the other characters have this sharp, disturbed, obscuring animation to them, and the rainy, grimy city sets the perfect stage for a noir ambience. The zietgiests of the time manifest in a reversed ethos of greed, perversity, disease, and evil. And it's clear in this book that the richer and more powerful man, the more violent the fight for their morality.

Several works came to mind while reading "An American Dream". First of all, I can't help but think Bret Easton Ellis had this book in mind when he wrote "American Psycho". Beyond the title, Ellis's book mimicks many similar themes: violence, death, compulsion, indulgence, grim powers operating under the surface, the state of our culture, and pandemic phsychosis. The level of sickness and the personal narrative perspective also connect the two works. Also, I thought of Jack Kerouac and Cormac MacCarthy towards the end.

The title of this book suggests a couple of things. First off, the whole book has a very palpable dream-like quality. It's hazy, amnesiac, evocative, and lethargic. Nightmarish. Also, it suggests that, if the "successful" characters in the book have acheived the "American Dream", then how effed up is that? And, just as a juxtaposition to the entire work, "An American Dream" just drips with satire. A good working title, in my opinion.

One thing is for sure: Norman Mailer is a writer of immense talent. At 265 pages, this book just zooms along with a virtuoso's elegance. There are passages in this book that just sweep you up and zone you out. With thriftiness and savagery, Mailer delivers a brutal round-house punch to the cranium with a velvet gloved fist. Enchanting and haunting simultaneously.

I have to be honest, though. As I closed the book upon finishing it and set it on the table, I realized I was missing something. This happens to every reader out there from time to time, I think. Your conception of the book just feels unfinished, even though the book itself is through. Well, sure, I thought this book was satisfying in many ways, but due to the stratospheric heights on which this book operates, it's tough to keep your feet on the ground towards the end. (Take this as a challenge, and not a negative review).

Read it, but use discretion.

Quote: "Then I was caught. For I wanted to escape from that intelligence which let me know of murders in one direction and conceive of visits to Cherry from the other, I wanted to be free of magic, the tongue of the Devil, the dread of the Lord, I wanted to be some sort of rational man again, nailed tight to details, promiscuous, reasonable, blind to the reach of the seas. But I could not move." pg 255