
I think this was James's pick for December, and, if I'm being perfectly honest, I'm only just reading it now (but, no worries Sarah, I
will finish
Life of Pi so we can discuss it). I'm not quite done with it, and I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting this.
I was thinking yesterday how familiar the premise is (anyone see I am Legend?), but somehow it's like nothing I've ever read before. The austerity of the writing, and of the characters, sets it apart from the dozens of other post-apocalyptic tales out there. The true gruesomeness of the situation is only implied, and it's all the more terrifying for its understatement.
There is a moment, early in the book, when the bad guys are searching for the man and the boy, walking all over the burned woods, looking, but not calling or speaking to each other at all, which, the man notes, makes it much more terrifying. This is the book's calling card--the reserved way the man and the boy speak to each other, the quiet way they deal with either starvation or salvation only increases the reader's emotional investment. Well, at least this reader's emotional investment. I read a lot of terrible books** that tell me how to feel. It's nice when an author trusts his writing (and his readers).
Good choice, James. Or, if it wasn't James, good choice, whomever.
p.s. A piece of advise: Don't read this late night, on the subway, alone. Unwise.
**see next post