Do you think that your fathers are watching? That they weigh you in
their ledgerbook? Against what? There is no book and your fathers are dead in
this book, oh, this book. last night was one of those nights that had me setting arbitrary restraints: i'll stop reading when i get to page 175. no, when i get to 200... i'll be done at 1:45 a.m.
everything in it is so gruesome and redemptive all at once. mccarthy is an amazing storyteller. all the gore and all the sick in this book boils down to the idea that no matter how bleak life becomes you must live your life as though it has meaning.
a bit sentimental/cheesy? yes. a masterpiece? yes.
also, internet has been elusive lately. look for pictures of the weekend later tonight...