One of those authors whose books I have both loved (All the Pretty Horses, The Road) and thoroughly disliked (No Country for Old Men, Blood Meridian) – luckily The Crossing belongs to the first of the
two categories. Also, and this is a huge plus, my daughter seemed to really enjoy
the book – although I am not quite sure whether that was because of the blood,
because I stammered so often as I tried to read it to her (damn punctuation, or
lack thereof!) or because of the contrast of colours on the cover (the options
are clearly given in order of increasing probability).
The Crossing is
probably the most touching of the books by McCarthy that I have read, because
it’s a wonderful story about defeated humble people and their attempts to,
fundamentally, get what is legitimately theirs, overcome moments of sheer
horror, and get by with a little help from their friends (or from complete
strangers, as in the case of the truck-load of Mexican workers or the doctor). In
addition, the two brothers somehow kept on reminding me of my two cousins (who
do live in the countryside, but that’s pretty much where the similarities end
objectively) and more than any other of his books, this novel made me think of
my favourite (although not particularly celebrated) Italian spaghetti western, Quien Sabe?/A Bullet for the General.
So yes, one of the best reads of 2016 and possibly the book
by McCarthy that I enjoyed the most.
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