"No Country for Old Men" by Cormac McCarthy (2005)

"Anything can be an instrument, Chigurh said.  Small things.  Things you wouldn't even notice.  They pass from hand to hand.  People don't pay attention.  And then one day there's an accounting.  And after that nothing is the same.  Well you say.  It's just a coin.  For instance.  Nothing special there.  What could that be an instrument of?  You see the problem.  To separate the act from the thing.  As if the parts of some moment in history might be interchangeable with the parts of some other moment.  How could that be?  Well, it's just a coin.  Yes.  That's true.  Is it?"

I've read most of Cormac McCarthy's books, so I suppose you could describe me as a fan.  I started off with "The Road" - a book I didn't even like that much - and from there moved on to his Border Trilogy.  I think he's one of the best writers working today.

Like several other Cormac McCarthy books, "No Country for Old Men" was adapted into a film of the same name.  The film version was directed by the Coen Brothers.  It's a great movie, and quite faithful to the book.

If you haven't seen the movie, "No Country for Old Men" begins with a hunter discovering a bag full of money in Texas.  Afterward he attempts to escape the sinister individual attempting to reacquire that money.  Later on a local sheriff becomes involved, and matters become more desperate as the hunter flees across the border into Mexico.

It's an excellent book, but that's no surprise.  If you've read the Border Trilogy, and if you've seen the movie version, you probably figured that out already.

"Outer Dark" by Cormac McCarthy (1968)

"When he did come he looked like a man who has a long way to go.  He had the supplies in a sack over his shoulder and he went by slowly with his eyes to the ground.  She crouched low while he passed and when he was gone she rose and dusted off her dress and took up her bundle and returned to the road again, walking out his tracks to the crossroads and the store."

"Outer Dark" is Cormac McCarthy's second novel, written long before the books that would truly establish his reputation.  He was 35 years old when it was first published, and it wasn't until the early 90s - when McCarthy was in his sixties - that his Border Trilogy cemented his status as one of America's greatest living writers.

Which might lead one to assume that "Outer Dark" is a work less mature than more recent, celebrated novels.  Such an assumption, however, misses the mark.  "Outer Dark" is no less developed than later novels such as "The Crossing," "The Road," and "No Country for Old Men," and it displays all of the strengths which later made McCarthy famous.

The novel follows the wanderings of a brother and sister after the birth of their child.  The father, perhaps shamed by the parentage of his new infant, leaves the child in the forest, where it is discovered by an itinerant merchant.  After she recovers from a difficult labor, the mother goes in search of the child, with her brother only a few steps behind her.

Like other McCarthy novels, this book showcases McCarthy's penchant for wordplay and dark themes.  To say that the ending of the novel is shocking is something of an understatement, and in terms of violence, this might just be the bloodiest novel that McCarthy has ever written.  If the ending of the Border Trilogy sat with you, you really ought to read "Outer Dark."

This is an excellent book, and I would recommend it without reservation.

"All the Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy (1992)

"They rode out along the fenceline and across the open pastureland.  The leather creaked in the morning cold.  They pushed the horses into a lope.  The lights fell away behind them.  They rode out on the high prairie where they slowed the horses to a walk and the stars swarmed around them out of the blackness.  They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on the round dais of the earth which alone was dark and no light to it and which carried their figures and bore them upinto the swarming stars so that they rode not under but among them and they rode at once jaunty and circumspect, like thieves newly loosed in that dark electric, like young thieves in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold and ten thousand worlds for the choosing"

"All the Pretty Horses" is the first book in McCarthy's Border Trilogy, a trio which also includes "The Crossing" and "Cities of the Plain."  I have read all three books in this series, though I have read the first book last.  I must say that I'm a bit sorry about this, because I think "Cities of the Plain" would have been even more devastating if I had read the books of the trilogy in their proper order.

In "All the Pretty Horses" John Grady Cole and his friend Lacey Rawlins set out for Mexico on horseback.  What follows is a series of adventures that prompt both of these characters to question the very essence of their respective realities.  There is death along the way, and also love, and a fair amount of philosophizing from various perspectives.

It is an excellent book.  I liked it more than "The Crossing," which was a bit too existential for me, but not as much as the earth-shattering "Cities of the Plain," which is one of the best books I've ever read.  My only complaint about "All the Pretty Horses" is the monologue delivered by the aunt near the end.  This monologue seems little more than a vehicle with which McCarthy tries to get more philosophical musings across, and it takes the reader too far outside the narrative.

The section detailing their stay in a Mexican prison, however, is amazing.  I cannot think of any other part of any other book that communicates such desperation, and it really is a stunning achievement.  It also anticipates an important development in "Cities of the Plain," and it would add a lot of gravity to that development if you read the trilogy in order.

Anyone who thinks they don't like Westerns needs to read this.  It does what any truly great book does, it transcends the setting of the story, it transcends the limitations of the characters, and it shows us the Very Large that inevitably comes to exist inside the Very Small.

"The Crossing" by Cormac McCarthy

"I am here because of a certain man.  I came to retrace his steps.  Perhaps to see if there were not some alternate course.  What was here to be found was not a thing.  Things separate from their stories have no meaning.  They are only shapes.  Of a certain size and color.  A certain weight.  When their meaning has become lost to us they no longer have even a name.  The story on the other hand can never be lost from its place in the world for it is that place.  And that is what was to be found here.  The corrido.  The tale.  And like all corridos it ultimately told one story only, for there is only one to tell."

"The Crossing" is the second book in McCarthy's Border Trilogy, following "All the Pretty Horses" and coming before "Cities of the Plain."  It was first published in 1994.

I read McCarthy's "The Road" several years ago, and didn't understand what all the fuss was about.  It was a decent book, but far from brilliant.  I think the craze for that book stemmed primarily from its readability.  It could be disposed of in an afternoon, and didn't require much effort from the reader.

"The Crossing," on the other hand, is a densely written book, containing stories within stories.  Much of this novel is also in Spanish, and those (like me) unfamiliar with Spanish will probably find many scenes in this book difficult to understand.  Even so, the inclusion of Spanish in the narrative makes a lot of sense, and adds a dimension to the story that other, similar books lack.

The novel begins in the 1930s, on a ranch near the border between New Mexico and old Mexico.  The protagonist, Billy Parham, catches a wolf, and then decides to take the wolf back to Mexico.  Billy spends the next several years there, embarking on a journey that seeks to define the boundaries between life and death, good and evil, knowledge and ignorance.

It is a weighty book, and at times McCarthy's novel invites uncomfortable comparisons to Faulkner.  It tries very hard to say things about human beings and the world they live in, but there is a sense of having been here before, in other books, by other people.  I'm not saying that "The Crossing" is bad, or that it wasn't masterfully written, just that it reminds me of other books that I liked better.  Faulkner's "The Bear" was the first book that came to mind, though later chapters also reminded me of Patrick White's "Voss."

This said, I really enjoyed "The Crossing," and I consider it far superior to "The Road."  I'm now reading the sequel, "Cities of the Plain," and I'll be writing about it here next time.