BAMF 1, Morality 0

No Country for Old Men
Cormac McCarthy

If you're reading this on its post date of Monday morning, then know that, while you are sitting at your computer, probably quite comfortably (I imagine you, dear reader, in your pajamas, which serves to increase the bitterness I feel), I, on the other hand, am at work. A moment of silence, please.



Okay then. Now on to more important matters, namely books. Most people know how much I love Cormac McCarthy, so it's probably no surprise to hear that I decided to tackle yet another of his works this summer. Because of the recent film release, No Country for Old Men was a no-brainer, especially since I've been refusing to watch the movie until the book has been read.

I can't rave about No Country for Old Men like I did about Blood Meridian and The Road, but that's not to say No Country for Old Men wasn't worth the read. Like his other works I've read, McCarthy again explores what happens when ideologies collide. This collision occurs when a young man named Moss happens upon the aftermath of a shootout near the US-Mexico border. Moss finds a bunch of dead men, a load of heroin, and a case full of money. What's a guy to do?

If Moss had just turned tail and left, there'd be no book, so you know he didn't do that. Moss takes the money and THEN turns tail and leaves, assuming, of course, that the dead guys in the desert won't be needing all that dough. It's hard to imagine how anyone would even know Moss took it, since only the sheerest of coincidences led him to that spot. But in McCarthy’s world, random occurrences have resounding effects. Little does Moss know that everyone involved is not dead. One man is very much alive, and he and his crazy hair will stop at nothing to set things right.

This man, Anton Chigurh (pronounced “SHEE-gur”), is motivated by principles that most people cannot understand. Chigurh is motivated not by greed, but by an internal, incomprehensible morality. And here is where I can no longer ignore the elephant in the room: the bush that sits atop Chigurh's head.

sexy beast?

See? Bardem looks as confused as I am. My confusion is compounded by the fact that not once in the novel does McCarthy mention Chigurh's hair. In fact, McCarthy leaves much of Chigurh's physical appearance to the reader's imagination, since it is not his person that is important but rather what he represents. I'd peg any dude sporting the above haircut to be the exact opposite of Anton Chigurh, a man who is stopped by neither broken bones nor bullets. A dude with hair like that looks as though

1. he loves the mirror
2. he likes tight pants
3. he listens to the BeeGees
4. he idolizes Davy Jones circa 1967
5. he doesn't see nothing wrong with a little bump n grind

Not sure where that last one came from, but when the muse dictates, I keep typing. Point is, the type of guy that would sport that hair is most certainly NOT the type of guy embodied by Anton Chigurh.

But I digress.

Hair aside, Chigurh appears to be McCarthy's harrowing vision of the modern American, one utterly without conscience or remorse, intent only on fulfilling his own violent desires. Chigurh's opposite is the man hunting him: Sheriff Bell, a man watching the slow death of all that he values. Bell spends a lot of time pontificating about the world, and it's hard not to see Bell as McCarthy himself. Bell believes that America is going down the shitter (to paraphrase his rather long-winded speeches), and people like the Sheriff are dinosaurs on their way out. A country that values egotism, materialism, and greed has no place for ideas like honor, community, or morality. While McCarthy makes some valid points, at times things get a bit too preachy for my blood.

Of course, I can't help but note some unintentional irony here. McCarthy clearly admires Bell and uses him to deliver his own personal philosophy on the world, and Bell's a likable guy (albeit in a cute old guy sorta way). Unfortunately, Bell doesn't stand a chance next to Chigurh. In fact, Bell becomes practically a non-entity the second Chigurh steps on the page. It doesn't help matters that Chigurh is such a major BAMF that Bell just seems like a doddering old fool railing against dyed hair and piercings (for real, he does). So, maybe McCarthy's message would be stronger if Chigurh were less cool. And maybe Bell could stop bitching about them dang kids on his lawn, dagnabbit. Just a thought.

As always, it was the prose that made me like the book more than I would have if written by someone else. McCarthy's prose is lean and taut, never wasting a word. This novel was less difficult to read than that of Blood Meridian, but not as easy that of The Road, but that may be because I've grown accustomed to his writing style.

In a nutshell: Good story, better writing, but a little preachy in places. I'm glad this wasn't my introduction to McCarthy, because I know the heights he's capable of reaching.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars