It’s February.
I call this, somewhat unsubtley, the suicide month.
So what better time to pick up a classic post-apocalyptic novel that’s been on my list? That’s right, go all in!
In short, it’s the story of a man and his son. The man tries to keep his son alive by scavenging in a nuclear-ravaged wasteland while traveling south in a bid to survive the oncoming winter. In so doing, he attempts to maintain certain higher standards of conduct which most have abandoned for the sake of basic survival, and instill them in his charge.
The book’s been around for a while now, so there’s reviews a plenty if you want to delve into the discussion. And like all renowned creations, there’s volumes of criticisms. To save you time, I’ll reduce them down to the top two complaints and comment on each:
- It’s repetitive. Yes, it does tend to touch on the same topics and events, but that’s because the same problems keep arising and don’t go away. Each victory is minor and fleeting, without permanently fixing anything. It’s a narrative of how things just don’t get better.
- The writing style is juvenile. I don’t think this is a fair assessment, because it’s essentially the running monologue in the man’s mind. I don’t know about anyone else, but my internal thought train is just that–an ongoing collection of observations, conversations, analyses, decisions, and memories; all devoid of punctuation or grammatical syntax. And that was clearly intentional by the author.
It does ultimately end with a glimmer of hope, that the ethical codes are not extinct. It’s a depressing journey, but a good one for the heart of winter. Keep the fire.
–Simon