Uplifting, desperate, hopeful, and honest, The Road is a triumph of intimacy and loneliness at the end of the world. In following a father and sun as they pick their way through the desolate wasteland of a nuclear winter, Cormac McCarthy's stream-of-conscious writing style plays a philosopher's narrative on the death rattle of humanity. There's little that's typical about this sort of story. There are no grand, Mad Max-esque battles for resources or trips through the piss-stained hovels of depraved, starving refugees. Instead, it is a book entirely consumed in the father-son relationship, their nomadic journey through a dying wilderness, and the pair's absolute trust and dependency on each other; the post-society setting merely provides a narrative context for absolute desperation. The tale is quiet and thoughtful, slow and uneventful, methodical and dangerous. And like the best of genre fiction, it rings true.10 out of 10.
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