Tag Archives: Blood Meridian

The World of Literature Lost a Great One – Cormac McCarthy

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“Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.”
—Cormac McCarthy, The Road

While his raw, savage, and uncompromising style of writing wasn’t REALLY my cup of tea as I’m an unashamed fan of happily-ever-after chick lit, I have read a couple of books by Cormac McCarthy.

MY habit of skipping over sections that contain any sort of violence probably causes me to miss a lot of narrative, but I think I come away with the gist of his message regarding the human affinity for brutality, which I personally abhor.

Even so, I can still be awed by his ability to convey the darkest sides of humanity (inhumanity) and his unflinching bare bones descriptions of people and places I’m happy I never met.

I read that McCarthy was very much influenced by William Faulkner, one of my favorite authors.

I haven’t seen the films adapted from his novels for the same reason I only touched the outer edges of his published works — the dark side doesn’t appeal to me.

Wiki recalls McCarthy this way: “Cormac McCarthy was an American writer who authored twelve novels, two plays, five screenplays, and three short stories, spanning the Western and postapocalyptic genres. He was known for his graphic depictions of violence and his unique writing style, recognizable by a sparse use of punctuation and attribution.”

Cormac McCarthy won the Pulitzer Prize for The Road. It was recently reported that another of his novels, Blood Meridian, will be made into a feature film directed by John Hillcoat, who directed the film adaptation of The Road.

Side by Side | Cormac McCarthy vs Sophie Kinsella

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This time I was unlucky enough to be in the middle although in sniffing distance of first class. I cherished the almost princess moment with my wistful view of the curtains that separated THEM in their rarified air from US, the hoi polloi.

To my left was an older-than-me male; slightly obnoxious. He moved around a lot, didn’t settle down, and then THIS: he attempted to man-usurp the shared armrest.

OH NO HE DINT.

I might be all of five feet tall and my feet might BARELY reach the floor, but NOBODY has the right to hog the shared armrest. Bad form, lack of etiquette, and not on my watch, buddy.

I strategically waited until he reached down to get something from his under-the-seat bag and I FIRMLY planted MY arm on the arm rest. HAH! I thought to myself, that’ll teach him. I let him have it back after I felt my point had been made and received.

He finally decided to nap and covered himself with his jacket which invaded MY territory, so I shoved it back over to his side- that’s when I got “Sorry.” After about fifteen minutes or twenty minutes, I must confess that I took a certain amount of pleasure in waking him up so I could use the restroom. Just a CERTAIN amount of joy, not a lot. Not too much. (Tee hee.)

Harrumph. Don’t ever mess with a short curly haired girl, old man.

To my right was a young guy who had an edition of Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian wedged in the little pocket attached to the seat in front. It stared at him, unblinking, willing him to pick it up and read, but for two hours he resisted the allure of McCarthy and the urge to absorb those tortuous words. First he tweeted A LOT and then he fell asleep, woke up, and cracked open the novel. I wonder if he had any idea what he was getting himself into, and felt like telling him this might NOT the best time to read McCarthy as he’s the antithesis of a light, not-too-demanding author, but I kept my own counsel this time. His mistake, though. Cormac is the stuff of nightmares.

On the other hand, I was firmly immersed in one of my fave authors, Sophie Kinsella. This time it was her 2017 book, My Not So Perfect Life. It was like drinking the perfect cocktail on a balmy summer evening. Kinsella rarely disappoints and I was immediately drawn into the characters, their situations, and relationships. Like all great reads (in my opinion) it ended with the main character finding her happily-ever-after true love.

I read nonstop until we landed.

Home. There’s no place like it.