This isn’t quite as good as The Road, but for the creepiest experience of realization of an author’s work ever read this and then immediately see the Coen Brothers film.

Or just read this because I enjoyed it. McCarthy’s graphic landscapes and sharp, concise, nearly trivial (which is what makes it realistic – i believe) conversation fragments fit both post-apocalyptic England and the cowboys of the south/west quite well.

“As for me my only hope is for eternal nothingness and I hope it with all my heart.”

This book is sparse and dark and brooding and brilliant. While it may be horribly depressing, the straighforward conversation between a father & son balances the grey scenes of post-destruction. I recommend this quite highly, and on gloomy ash-rainy days if possible so that the feeling of the book overpowers any of the happiness that may be in your soul.