The Road is a profoundly moving story of a post-apocalyptic journey to a desecrated future where no hope remains, but in which a father and his son, “each the other’s world entire,” are sustained by love, by their own versions of faith in a greater good. And in a fire that keeps burning amidst the dark, gray, and dreary earth. The Road is a harrowing story about fatherhood, love, and hope, and everything is sad and beautiful, and everything hurts.
This is my first Cormac McCarthy and his literary style of reductive sentences and sparse vocabulary best suits his philosophical pessimism and the thin plot he lays out. The story is single-layered and it is McCarthy’s beautiful writing that carries the novel through the bleakness and despair. The scant sentence fragments strung together create a sense of danger and desperation that the Father and the Son live through everyday – a life so devoid of simple human pleasures that only the perpetuation of self and human goodness defines them as being alive.
Their conversations have a silence to it – a silence especially boosted by the lack of marks that evokes the lullness of the world itself.
I am very sad after reading the book, and the gloomy weather compounded my feeling of desolation but ultimately, as with all books I’ve read, I am glad that I found the courage to read it. It is dismal, yes, but it is also filled with hope and the contrast of the ashen Earth of The Road made me grateful for this tiny island that I live in, for the love of family I enjoyed all through the years, for what I am, and for what I have to give.
Absolutely sparse and bleak and beautiful, I recommend this book to everyone.
Do you think I should watch the movie?