"The Road" a.k.a. Cowboys don't cry

I was prodded to write something and do better than pictures of rain, which everyone has apparently seen. I thought it was like,
a new thing.

So, hello. I am not a clone. Clones are only laughing on the outside, whereas I laugh on the inside and have a glum aspect. I am a pretend super hero.

Anyway, so here is a book review - one of my top authors for sure; been reading him since way back; love the lack of sentimentality. This may appear in the Sunday Times shortly but they are being slow with it. So this is it's (dusts it off) first real airing.

Agree/disagree/hate it/comments welcome.

Now I will go read some other posts, thanks 4 having me

THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy, Picador, R162,95

“I decline to accept the end of man,” stated William Faulkner.
Long after he himself has passed to dust, a writer often seen as Faulkner’s literary descendant now re-examines that unthinkable scenario - with somewhat less braggadocio.

A retching, sickly man and his fearful young son walk an empty freeway from a broken past to an unknowable future. Burnt out cars, skeletal trees and the smoke-enshrouded ruins of cities form their scenery. This is the underworld brought to life and father and son have become "each the other's world entire."

For those unfamiliar with Cormac McCarthy’s sparse style, archaic phrasing (he revives words long dead and buried, like ‘roofingtin’; ‘illcarved’) and backroads America landscapes, The Road might prove frustratingly inconclusive – you can’t classify it. It’s not a sci-fi, although it is a future-set tale of survival – two refugees following a road through the post-apocalyptic wastes.

You aren’t told how things came to be this way; only that one night there was a "long shear of light and then a series of low concussions.” That’s as much as you’re going to get by way of explanation. Plot is less important; the characters’ reactions to their circumstances are what matter. In fact, the unknowability of it all might unsettle the reader as much as it does the characters.

As father and son make their way, for no apparent reason, to the coast, they must scrounge for every morsel and fight off characters more desperate than themselves.
This theme of characters often as lost as the reader might feel, began in 1985 with Blood Meridian, a violent retelling of the Davy Crockett legend; it continued in the nightmarish The Orchard Keeper, then traveled on into McCarthy’s breakthrough Border Trilogy – which led to a film version of All The Pretty Horses. After that, this underground author gained notoriety and his next release, In the Country of Old Men, was snapped up for movie rights before it hit the shelves.

A more accessible thriller of sorts, it disappointed some who had followed McCarthy’s slow, non-conformist journey from cult author to Oprah guest.

In The Road (also soon to film, with Viggo Mortensen), he reverts to form, with a slower, more introspective pace. The Road has a sense of timelessness – mythological, almost – grounded firmly in the landscapes his characters traverse.

In a story that might as easily have been set in the Dark Ages, events unfold with a directness and honesty that moves - without relying on sentimentality. McCarthy still shows how to communicate volumes in one sparse sentence. He remains, and covets, the loner character – a figure so isolated in his fictional world that only the reader is looking out for him. In The Road, it is this empathic force that could leave you with a catch in your throat and more surprisingly, given the bleakness of the author’s general outlook
– a small sense of hope for humanity.