Wednesday, November 06, 2013
I slipped it out from its position in the pile, like a crazy game of book jenga, and flipped it over - I always read the blurb before I start reading anything, like I'm looking for clues to what I'm about to experience.
Then I started reading. I stopped about three hours later, somewhere near 1am, and as I closed the last page I felt this unnerving feeling settle over me.
The Road was published in 2006 to critical acclaim and took out the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2007, (yes I'm a little behind in my reading), and I can see why.
There is something about the simplistic stripped back use of language, the short sharp paragraphs, the dialogue that feels more like thoughts running through someones mind then actual conversation. It's raw and open and it drags you in and along for the ride.
It's also terrifying. The Road, with it's post-apocalyptic world, could almost be a warning. And in a way it is, but for me the warning is not so much about a barren and scorched landscape, as it is about humanity. And love. And tenderness. And needing to not forget what those things mean.
Sometimes I think the power of words, simple words, to elicit emotion is often forgotten. We're so overwhelmed with images and sound and three word slogans, that real words get lost.
They're not lost in The Road.
If you haven't already, read it.