Book 55

Book 55 was The Road, by Cormac McCarthay. I honestly don't know what is is with me and depressing books this year. This one was grim. Father and son travel through post apocalyptic world, making their way to the ocean and more "good" people. 

I just had to take a deep sigh. I like this book, and it read very quickly (I got through it in 4 hours). But wow, it was harsh. There was death, and cannibals, and slaves and other craziness. Not only do you have all of that loveliness, but the dad is getting quite sick as they make their way east. 

I did like the book, but I kept feeling as though I should be getting more of out of it than I did. I got "Wow, it sucks to live after what seems like an atomic bomb dropping. If I live, I am moving into Barnes and Noble (preferably one with a Starbucks in it) until the cannibals get me." I don't think that was supposed to be the message. I am pretty sure it was "disaster makes good people do morally gray things", or " having someone to love can get you through a lot of bad shit", or "being a good parent is hard, even in a wasteland with no one around" or "don't bomb people".  All good messages, only my personal one is the loudest.

I will read more Cormac McCarthy books. I will just make sure I sandwich them between nice, fluffy books.

The Road

Cormac McCarthy

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