The Road to... nowhere?

An hour or so after finishing Cormac McCarthy's The Road I'm still not sure what I thought about it, or whether it's provoked much of a reaction in me at all. Which is, I think, kind of the point. It was A Good Read: improbably pacy and engaging, not nearly as depressing as I'd feared and well written in McCarthy's perfectly serviceable style.

And yet. If I hadn't been told how brilliant it was I don't think I'd be thinking of it at all. If I didn't know it had won a Pullitzer Prize I think I would have said to myself, probably not aloud, "oh that was good" and then put it back on my bookshelf. Instead I'm forcing myself to write something about it because, so everyone tells me, It Is An Important Book.... is it though?

You can read the rest of this blog entry at The CNG Lending Library.

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UPDATE: How brilliant is it, sometimes when you find someone who just agrees with you? I had emailed a literary-minded friendof mine about my views on The Road, expecting him to tell me I was an illiterate boob who didn't appreciate anything. Instead I received a reply along the lines of ‘the prose yells ‘I’m the bee’s knees!’ at you ALL THE TIME. Yes, Cormac, you’re the bee’s knees. Now go away.” True dat.