The man and the boy have been on the road since the world ended, trying to get to the sea. Their existence is a bleak one, where food is scarce and the people still alive are skirting the edges of humanity. The man and the boy are not yet, finding their respective humanity in each other as they continue on their hopeless journey.
I have such mixed feelings on this book. On the one hand, I get why it's regarded as a modern classic. Cormac McCarthy's writing is beautifully taut, hopeless, honest, all things I think you need when you're writing such a bleak story. That said, I found the dialogue stunted, and the decisions, while not unthinkable or unremarkable, were just kind of dull. It's also a story that suffered from one of my biggest pet peeves - useless female character syndrome. I'm not saying that all books need to have useful ones, what I'm saying is some of them need to not be victims and some of them need to have agency.
Two and a half out of five flare guns.
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