I love the opeing scene where he describes the dream with the monster by the lake in a cave, that looks up at him with those dull eyes like spiders' eggs.

Here is one of my favorite descriptions ever of God in literature, by "the exmormon" in The Crossing:

"Who can dream of God? This man did. In his dreams God was much occupied.
Spoken to He did not answer. Called to did not hear. The man could see Him
bent over his work. As if through a glass. Seated solely in the light of His
own presence. Weaving the world. In His hands it flowed out of nothing and
in His hands it vanished into nothing once again. Endlessly, Endlessly. So.
Here was a God to study. A God who seemed a slave to His own selfordinated
duties. A God with a fathomless capacity to bend all to an inscrutable
purpose. Not chaos itself lay outside of that matrix. And somewhere in that
tapestry that was the world in its making and in its unmaking was he and he
woke weeping."

P. 149, paperback version

What do you make of it?

Some more cool stuff the exmormon says:

"For this world also which seems to us a thing of stone and flower and blood is not a thing at all but is a tale. And all in it is a tale and each tale the sum of all lesser tales and yet these also are the selfsame tale and contain as well all else within them."

"Because what can be touched falls into dust there can be no mistaking these things for the real."

"Things separate from their stories have no meaning."

"The events of the world can have no separate life from the worl."

I would weep after those dreams of God as well. Like a child playing legos. Where's the agency of the creations? I'd feel used, a pawn.

Haven't read the book, but maybe exmormon was touched that he was even a part of the "selfordinated duties" and a part of the tapestry.

But I'd feel like a toy.

The tale of creation. That is, evolution by natural selection. It's the most basic tale.

I may be violating my own stipulation that the personal life and views of an author don't matter, but Oprah asks McCarthy what he thinks of God and prayer, in his first (and only?) televised interview.

You can look it up on youtube if you wish. It's near the end.

I gave my copy to my father to read. He liked it a lot.

In fact, he just told me that he is reading it a second time now (he first read it just a week or two ago).

I sent it to my parents over a year ago. Never heard back.

i'm joining this discussion late. but i have a few thoughts -- very stripped down ones.

if not "saving anyone" -- what makes the father and son any more good guys than any of the various villains they encounter? there must be more to being the "good guys" than saving others, right?

by the end of the novel, a reader becomes sympathetic and respectful of what the father has done for the son. and of the strangers who agree to take in the son. but why? what makes us appreciate the sacrifice, the hope, the unwillingness to give up of these people -- and at the same time to despise and fear others who present threats to them?


maybe the reader is forced to be sympathetic with these two, merely because they are the only characters we CAN be sympathetic with -- they are the only two we know. if so, then he presents a very tribal viewpoint, wherein "goodness" and "hope" are relative to one's own group. yet, i think there is a higher morality in the father in son, even if they do not or refuse to attempt to save chained-up others.

as usual, mccarthy touches on fate, the everpresence of evil, the murder/bloodlust as an essential aspect of humanity, but also of the more tender desire to shield the innocent from each of those things -- that the desire to nurture hope despite all of those things is somehow good or necessary (or at least can be). shield may not be the best word, though -- the father must explain the violence and depravity of the world to his son -- because he cannot shield his son from it forever. but somehow tempering the exposure to evil/fate/depravity. and explaining it, in a way that father and son seem above it, comes across to us as love.

maybe, mccarthy does the same to the reader -- nurtures my hope as i read -- exposes me steadily to evil/fate/depravity, but does so in a way that i can attempt to understand or overcome it, e.g. by finding some superior or moral in the father's love for his son.

Says the Road Agent.