"The Road"

Last night I finished reading "The Road," by Cormac McCarthy. It's a post-apocalyptic novel about the journey of a father and son across a decimated remnant of the United States. It's beautifully written, but not a page-turner in the traditional sense. Yet, the reader is constantly wondering what will come of this father and son duo. I appreciated the book for the questions it raised about relationships. In particular, between a father and son, who is taking care of who - emotionally, physically, and spiritually? I was also grateful for the slow paced plot that left time for reflection on the richly detailed landscapes and remnants of humanity.

I won't ruin it for those who haven't read it. But here's a favorite excerpt to get you interested. "Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery."