A Guide to Post-apocalyptic America: 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy

 

When it comes to Vinnie's/Lifeline/Salvo shops, the further west you go, the better.  I knew that Cormac McCarthy wrote No Country for Old Men, so paying $2 for his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel from 2007 seemed like a pretty good punt.  I don't think I've ever read a book quicker, and it's certainly one that changed the way I looked at the world (for a few days anyway). 

So, here's what I learnt about what life might be like if you survived a catastrophic event:

 

It will be a bit like a video game

 

The story of a father and son travelling south to escape the cold in post-apocalyptic America felt a little bit like playing Resident Evil 2 with the lights out after your parents went to bed – searching abandoned towns for supplies, the constant fear of running out of pistol ammunition and never knowing what’s lurking in that mansion basement.

 

You can eat pretty much anything to survive

 

In Cormac McCarthy’s pseudo science-fictitious world, an unnamed catastrophic event has turned the country into a gloomy, desolate wasteland (many critics claim this novel is a crude examination of the consequences of climate change). Witnessing them survive on completely rotten apples, decade-old pickles and ash-ridden snow put my at-times insatiable food obsession into some perspective.  Speaking of survival...

 

People will start eating each other

 

Cannibalism becomes a horrifying reality for many of the surviving members of the human race.  This lead me to one of the most interesting Wikipedia pages I’ve read in a long time – the psychological underpinnings of this seemingly inhuman behaviour, very recent instances of cannibalism and a fascinatingly descriptive account of eating human meat by a New York Times reporter (tastes like veal, apparently).

 

Shit's gonna get deep

 

For decades, natural disasters, catastrophic human events and alien invasions have been backdrops to the consideration of philosophical themes, and The Road is no different.  The essence of being a father, the survival mindset and the inherent good (and evil) of man are explored through McCarthy’s poignant, poetic prose. 

 

Kids will still be kids

 

McCarthy dedicates the book to his son, who would have been about the same age as the boy in the book when it was released.  The dialogue is littered with his seemingly naïve observations and enquiries.  At one point, the boy guilts his father into sharing a meal with an elderly man they encounter on the road.  In a world struggling to survive, it is in these rare moments of shared humanity that hope resides.