A post-apocalyptic tale: The Road (2006)

Every once in awhile, I'll check in to see what Oprah's Book Club is touting as the "must read" of the moment. Most of the time, I'm not drawn to Oprah's selections. But the current OBC book, Cormac McCarthy's The Road, is easily one of the best books that Oprah has ever picked.

The Road, which was nominated for a 2006 National Book Critics Circle Award, narrates the struggle for survival by a father and son in a post-apocalyptic United States. The American countryside has been incinerated in an unnamed disaster. The air is filled with ash; all flora are charred and lifeless. Groups of scavengers roam the highways looking for food. Bands of cannibals hide out in abandoned buildings, waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander by. The father and son, who remain nameless in the book, are making their way to the sea. The father hopes to find some sort of salvation at the shore; what that salvation is, he doesn't know.

At first blush, The Road may appear to be much like other post-apocalyptic stories, which are too many to count and tend to rely too often on stale plot devices. But McCarthy, whom many consider to be one of the most gifted if not the best living American writer, imbues the tale with something different and remarkable. The dead world depicted in the story is merely a setting, a backdrop, for what is a moving tale of the love between a father and a son. They revere each other, not so much because each depends upon the other for the basic necessities of life, but because they formed their unbreakable bond before the world ended.

The Road also emphasizes the moral ambiguities that we all encounter in life. Most of us consider ourselves to be "good," but what does that word really mean? The father tells the son that they are the "good guys." But on one occasion, the father decides not to help another person in need, all because of his desire to preserve the lives of his son and, of course, himself.

This is a book that will have you pondering it long after you've finished it. If you're like me, you'll have a hard time resisting the urge to immediately read it again. McCarthy's idiosyncratic writing style, which is refreshingly simple yet full of prosaic devices designed to keep the reader rapt with attention, powerfully pushes the story along. Even though I don't have children, I was greatly moved by this story. After putting down this book, those of you who do have kids will probably feel compelled to pull them close to you, hold them tightly, and be thankful for the gift of parenthood.