The Road

The Road / Cormac McCarthy's.

that's what i am reading right now. what a book. it's so strong and intense, like Italian espresso without sugar and milk.

i admire the way McCarthy developed the language, into a spare and vivid tone, in places almost like short diary entry lines put together. and there is so deep thoughtfulness, under cover of the lines.

The cold drove him forth to mend the fire. Memory of her crossing the lawn toward the house in the early morning in a thin rose gown that clung to her breast. He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. As in a party game. Say the words and pass it on. So be sparing. What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, know or not.

it's a hard read. i woke me up early twice now, yesterday and today, my mind spinning with images, a mix of the Road and 2028. i want to finish the read today, to be able to put it down.

yesterday evening, we went on a night drive, to visit C. after the storm calmed down – it wasn't really bad here, just a lot of wind and rain. it ended in the afternoon. and it was almost bizarre, coming from reading the Road, and then driving down a highway, past the airport, past all this civilization, to a flat that is now all fresh and furnished, with plants inside that have deco butterflies on them. but fitting to the Road, she had the TV on when we arrived, and there was “V like Vendetta” on – another dystopia.