a friend gave me the road by cormac mccarthy for my birthday. it comes at a perfect time: just finished an interesting, action-adventure book that was fun, if not fluffy. the wild girl was relief after reading 660 pages about somewhat worthless, allwhat depressing characters in seven types of ambiguity. not that that book wasn't excellent, because it was. there were passages that made me feel like perhaps truer words had never been spoken about the human race. (sorry mr. shakespeare.) it was also very inter-connected and layered, which one might expect with a title like that...nonetheless it was a long, descriptive book and i was looking for some punchy writing. then along came the road, and knocked all my teeth out.
not only is this book a stark contrast from the past 1500 pages of reading i've done, it's pretty much unlike any other book i've read. this man describes gray in more ways than the eskimos name ice. not to mention he infuses suspense into pages where the same thing is happening, which is more or less nothing. i'm only about 70 pages in, but i'm hooked. also, the guy doesn't use apostrophes in contracted modals like couldn't, shouldn't, etc. i feel like that's on par with salinger's use of italics in dialogue. and even though i don't like salinger, i can still recognize his genius.
also, i can't read this book before i go to bed anymore.
because it's gotten scary.
and i'm a little girl.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment