In Review: The Road
It takes a specific kind of a reader to appreciate Cormac McCarthy. His unflinching examination of evil that lurks within men is not for the faint of heart. On the surface it may come off as sadistic. But, then again, no good work of literature cares for the superficial reader.
The Road, a Pulitzer Prize winner, is the latest of McCarthy’s books. It is also his third book that is being adapted into a film, due to come out some time this year. The novel takes place after the nuclear holocaust. A father and his boy are traveling on the unnamed road in the southern direction because the climate is getting too cold to endure. The only species surviving on earth are humans. Food and drinking water is scarce. All vegetation is dead. The entire world is covered with a thin layer of silver ash. The sun never shines.This is a perfect foundation for the central question of the book – how much does it take for humans to turn into animals? According to McCarthy, not much. Take away food and shelter, and most men will commit most despicable acts of violence.
Post-apocalyptic tales are certainly nothing new in our culture. Those who have seen Mad Max or read The Postman are certainly familiar with the themes that The Road engages. But, it is a testament to the difference between a work of literature and a pop-fiction product when a master like McCarthy takes on what is basically a science fiction premise. The Road evokes a range of emotions in the reader, from rage and despair to compassion and hope. And the sparser the prose – the deeper the emotions are felt. For this novel, McCarthy dispenses with his dense style and archaic English that has you reaching for the Merriam-Webster (unabridged). Instead, the writing is as barren as the world it depicts. The erasure of language is the erasure of civilization itself. Reading The Road reminds one of Hemingway,
who once said that his writing is like an iceberg, thin on top, revealing just enough to push the reader to discover the bottom for himself. And to the bottom The Road goes – down to the deepest abyss of mankind. Cannibalism (including a gruesome scene of a baby being eaten), slavery, the brutal rule of physical force – everything we think of as deeply inhuman – is committed by men and women in the most casual way. And a ten year old boy (McCarthy does not indicate his precise age) as an eyewitness to our descent adds another level of despair that sometimes throws the reader into a state of shock.
Yet, the violence in The Road is not gratuitous. The further the mankind falls, the more faith the reader has in the novel’s protagonists. They represent humanity. They carry the heavy load of moral conduct on their shoulders. The child is especially sensitive and compassionate, and the worse things get the more his selflessness becomes painful to the reader, who yearns to reach his hand into the book and somehow help him. The father is more resigned to his fate, his feelings numbed by the constant struggle for survival. After shooting a man who takes the boy hostage, he tries to overcome his shock, “This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man’s brains out of my child’s hair. That is my job. Then he wrapped him in the blanket and carried him to the fire.”
The fire is a central symbol in the novel. Everything in the world is dark, the sun is barely visible, the clouds are constant, and the ash makes everything gray. The physical fire is scant. The fire of the human soul is almost nonexistent. But the boy and his father carry the Promethean fire as well. These two anti-heroes are our hope, the faintest hope in the world. And yet, it is belief in the triumph of the human spirit that permeates the novel. And because this belief is not unwavering, it makes the book heartfelt and tragic, but also intrinsically human. In the last and the most heartbreaking dialogue in the novel the boys asks the father:
Is it real? The fire?
Yes, it is.
Where is it? I don’t know where it is.
Yes you do. It’s inside you. It was always there.
by Eugene Rabkin