Now That I've Survived the Apocalypse . . .

Remind me never to poor-mouth a noted author's darkness.  McCarthy has indeed created his great masterpiece here, and though it is dark, I remain slack-jawed at the beauty and humanity and grace of The Road.

I finished last night, but I couldn't bring myself to post just yet.  I still feel like I need to reread the ending to get a firmer footing.  So, why don't I do just that?  Please enjoy the music while you wait. . . .
Okay.  I've reread and been touched by the hope of it all over again.  The world McCarthy has portrayed is decidedly bleak - to the point where I (like the characters) wondered about the reason for going on at all.  I just couldn't see how it could end.  Not that it needed to end well.  But I couldn't understand the idea of survival simply for the sake of survival. . .with no prospect of improvement.  In the end, though, all I felt was hope.  Even in the loss of life.  Even in the continued uncertainty.  Even though nothing had changed about the future except the boy's companions.  I still felt unbridled hope coursing through those final pages.  And perhaps it was simply because the father was right after all:

Goodness will find the little boy.  It always has.  It will again. (281)

Even though it is not always true, I can't help but be moved by the rightness of it.

1 comment:

  1. I wanted to read this again straight after reading it but didn't. I will have to do so again soon - your posts reminded me of why. It is such a moving book.
    I posted some thoughts here - http://theknockingshop.blogspot.com/2010/09/road.html