Glass Maze Every jumbled pile of person

The Road

I want desperately to tell everyone what am amazing, mind-blowing, harrowing, beautiful book The Road is, but I don’t have the words. And, honestly, I don’t think there are words — anything I say about it would fall so short of capturing the experience of actually reading the thing that it would amount to a desecration.

I’ve been meaning to pick this book up for a while, but I kept putting it off because I had more important things to do — you know, like figuring out how to slide that textfield two pixels to the right in Firefox without turning it purple in IE, or getting Mario past that fucking mattress-shaped thing with the teeth. So I’m indebted to my friend T who handed it to me a couple of weeks ago and said Read this.

I finished it today, in the gym, on the stationary bike, crying through the last ten pages. I think I would have felt like a total fool if I hadn’t been so busy feeling sad and hopeful and inspired.

Anyway. Unless you’re in the act of saving a baby from a burning building or hanging off of K2 or giving birth or something, you need to drop whatever you’re doing and read this book right now. You won’t regret it.

I’m a little surprised to hear that you hadn’t read it. ‘Jimmy’s Roadside Cafe’ reminded me strongly of ‘The Road’, except that I liked ‘Jimmy’s Roadside Cafe’ and I really disliked ‘The Road’. I found McCarthy’s style overly affected and the premise unoriginal.