I finished a book. No, not C.S. Lewis’ Abolition of Man, I finished that a while ago, after along struggle. This time, it was “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy, recommended to me by 
Oh boy, it was. CMCs writing is fantastic, even when reading the translated version (to German in my case). He immediately builds the dystopia, with just a few words everything inside me clenches. The more I read, the harder it becomes to read through the lines of desperation, useless hope and that unshakeable love for the son. The sheer endless strength to uphold what’s good in the son in a cruel, plain bad world, while the father himself is slowly losing all the good inside him trying to protect the child.
Carry the fire.
That’s the task given to the son by his father, because he himself can’t anymore. He can only carry his son, and his own fire is slowly fading, both in sickness and exposure to a world of unimaginable cruelty. He knows how he should act, but he’s doomed to balance “good” with “survival”, while the child is indeed “good” in his childish nature.
Be better.
Most parents want their children to have a better life than themselves, and in these days, that does not necessarily mean materialistically. For me it doesn’t. I want Lily to be better, to not inherit my own shortcomings. But at the same time I’m her role model and must work on those shortcomings myself. And I have the advantage of living in a somewhat stable and peaceful environment. The man doesn’t. The son doesn’t.
It’s a brutal contrast.
The conflict between the man and the son becoming deeper throughout the book, provoked by the continuously growing incoherence that the man shows. Talking about the fire, the good, the hope, teaching values to his son, while acting contrarian. They both feel drifting apart, and it creates a desperation that is transmitted way too well in the words CMC chooses.
It hurts while reading.
So does the fear. The trauma the son is exposed to many times, and the deep sadness that the father feels, the impotence regarding it. There is no way to avoid it. That’s the world he lives in. That’s the world he chose for his son by not using the last two bullets when left with an impossible choice. Was it hope and love, or was it cowardice?
Too close to home.
For me. Too many similarities to my own experiences with my daughter, in a less drastic way. And yes, I’m probably reading that into the lines. Becoming a parent changes life, it changes the way one looks at the world. A friend of mine said a few weeks ago that since she’s a mother, she can’t watch movies with child abduction or abuse or anything bad happening to children anymore. She relates too closely to it.
So do I.
It wasn’t easy to read this book. On the contrary. It stung from time to time. Brought me to tears several times. Especially in my current situation. But it was also good to do so. I do believe that it’s necessary to expose myself to such things, in a healthy dose. To create a certain resilience through imagining a world like that, a feeling like that, and connecting to that feeling.
In theory, that helps…
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