Monday, January 17, 2011

Why Is The Skin On My Scrotum Peeling

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

I heard the good of this book, I was not disappointed.
The label "masterpiece" tag affixed to the collection points, though a bit grandiose, is not usurped.

The Road, Cormac McCarthy, 2006
2007 Pulitzer Prize
2008 for the French edition

A man and his son, which we will not know the names, walk in a dead world. We guess that a global catastrophe has occurred several years ago, but we will not know precisely why.
The world has obviously been devastated by fire on an unimaginable scale, which left a barren land covered with ash. The vegetation does not grow more. There is nothing to eat, with a few cans or jars remained buried here and there.
The sky is constantly covered with a lead blanket, obscuring the vital light sun.
In this hostile world, the survivors are not legion. They are torn between, in order to stay alive.
Many animals are again the primary instincts, exterminating all animals for the sole purpose to exist then, coming to kill and eat other men for the same purpose.
The danger is everywhere. Can not live long in one place.
Among these "evil" - and qualified for the small - the man and the child seem to be the last representatives of humanity "human". To protect himself: a gun with two bullets, always at hand.
Every day, they walk at their own pace, towards the south, a kind of promised land they hope hotter. Their life is in a shopping cart containing their meager victuals, when they have a few blankets and a tarp for protection from the weather. Mostly, they sleep outside, barely warmed by a small fire.

The book chronicles their journey.
The writing style is a bit confusing at first, and this is the only negative point that could be noted. I was sometimes embarrassed by the abuse of sentences without a verb and the absence of punctuation dialogues. And I realized in hindsight that the punctuation is almost nonexistent even within sentences, and this throughout the story. Many "and" to replace the commas. Strange. I have never encountered this stylistic device. I'm not a benchmark for literary criticism, I agree. The first few sentences are very representative:

"When he woke in the woods in the dark and cold of the night he held out his hand to touch the child sleeping beside him. The dark nights beyond the dark and the days more gray each day than before. As the assault of an indescribable cold glaucoma dimming the world under his pillow. At each precious breath his hand rose and fell gently. He pushed the plastic tarpaulin and raised himself in the clothes and blankets ampuanties and looked east in search of a light but there was none. "

It is as if The author had wanted to throw a block on the paper's history , we deliver raw, unadorned, for the most part can gush of words.
And it works, and even good. Point breathless adventures. What emerges mainly through the pages is the relation between the father to his son. The child is her only defense against death.
"little facts, little story, just the pure breath of what is to survive." (Source: Hubert Artus, reading room)

lot of feelings between them are suggested, and in our position player, we get all the brunt.

"The child asked him some questions about the world which for him was not even a memory. [The child is born after the beginning of the Apocalypse Planetary] It was hard to find a response. There is no past. What would make you happy? But he had renounced him say things of his invention because these things were not true either, and it put him uncomfortable to say. The child had his own illusions. How would it be to the south? Are there other children? He tried to put the brakes but his heart was not there. Who would have the heart to that?
No list of things to do. Every day itself providential. Hourly. There is no later. Later is now. All things of grace and beauty that are dear to our hearts have a common origin in pain. Take birth in grief and ashes. Well, he whispered to the boy asleep. I got you. "

This book is hard to read. It titillates fears unbearable and unthinkable. Afraid for his life, fear of starvation, fear of seeing her child die, afraid to be alone in a completely hostile world with no future.

The story was adapted for film in 2009 by John Hillcoat, Viggo Mortensen in the role of the father.
I do not remember 'having heard of it. Maybe he is fine but I am not curious to see. I really too afraid of being disappointed because I highly doubt it is possible to make the image while the emotional side that is so well suggested by the writing.
I want to remember only the highlights of reading that gave me this book.
And yes, it is a small masterpiece of humanity.

Other critics read: here, here and there.

Like the book of Immanuel career, this book has haunted me for several days after it closed.
But what I like to be haunted by the way!
is really a delight to feel satisfied by a book. And say that I had forgotten for years ...


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