On ‘No Country for Old Men’
I’m not sure what to say about Cormac McCarthy’s neo-western novel that hasn’t been said. In fact that’s usually the reason I refrain from writing about certain books and topics perhaps because I haven’t yet had time to digest it and figure out what I can add to the conversation. I’m not too familiar with McCarthy’s novels. I’d read The Road many years ago though I barely remember it. When McCarthy passed away recently I was drawn to No Country in particular mostly because I’ve seen the film several times.
I was first struck by McCarthy’s use of space both in his subject matter and in his writing style. The novel has many beautiful passages about the desert landscape - the novel’s backdrop, a vast, dusty, harsh desert which can be beautiful as well as terrifying. The protagonist Llewellyn Moss is no stranger to the desert - he is a hunter, a Vietnam veteran and knows how to survive. There are many references to silence which the Coen brothers film demonstrates beautifully. Within the first few pages McCarthy’s writing style reminded me of Hemingway’s, by stringing together several thoughts with “and”. The book contains very little punctuation - no quotations or unnecessary commas or semicolons. There is little character description and sometimes characters just start talking when I wasn’t aware they were there. McCarthy’s minimal writing style fits the desert setting as well as the characters, who don’t waste words and prefer to act instead of talk.
Moss stumbles upon a drug deal gone wrong and thinks he can just walk away with a briefcase full of money. He knows the score, knows the men after the money may never stop looking for him. But he doesn’t account for Anton Chigurh, a psycopathic killer who kills anyone who lays eyes on him. Moss survives longer than most might have. Sherriff Ed Tom Bell seems to be telling the story, with italicized reveries about how the country is changing before his eyes and he feels he’s no longer up for the challenge. Bell attempts to locate Moss before Chigurh does but he has no such luck.
Underneath all the action flows commentary on spirituality, morality, war, good/bad/evil, and how these topics are interrelated in America. Bell laments the country’s moral decline. He battles with his own demons which he’s been carrying since World War Two. Moss is also a veteran, and so is Carson Wells, another man hired to locate the missing briefcase. I’d argue that Chigurh is also a veteran, though there’s no reference. As this Neo-western plays out along the edge of Texas, we see modern American civilization at it’s most brutal and honest.
This book was a lot heavier than I anticipated but it resonated with me. I found it refreshing because few write like McCarthy who was no doubt a master. I’m sure upon several more readings I’ll develop a better understanding.
Until next time,
KW
