I finished reading Cormac McCarthy’s The Road on Monday, and my initial impressions are good. It follows a father and son for a portion (a few months? a year?) of their journey in some sort of post-apocalyptic America.
The dialogue is short and the landscape ashen and endless, and I’m impressed that he could keep that going without becoming tedious; it always felt vivid.
This may not be the best piece of fiction ever written, and it did come up a little dry/disappointing in the “why” and “how” departments (McCarthy doesn’t tell us what happened, and that’s okay, except I’m not convinced he ever decided himself).
But this book reads unlike anything else I’ve read, and I really enjoyed it. Sometimes, that’s more than enough.