by Cormac McCarthy
I read this on the train home this evening. I feel like the passage itself is testament enough of McCarthy’s prowess, but in the context of this story (which I’ve been thoroughly engrossed in since the opening three pages), I found it so devastatingly beautiful that I re-read it four times, then promptly set the book down because I couldn’t handle reading further, and just wanted to dwell in this vividly realized moment.
I haven’t been as emotionally invested in a story since “Good Old Neon” or Infinite Jest. The fact that a moment of this much poignancy arrived only 60 pages in to the nearly 500 page duration is really promising for the rest of the novel, too. This will undoubtedly take me awhile to get through (three classes, capstone project, and clinic twice a week), but I’m really looking forward to reading it.