I arrived at a temporary saturation point with Shakespeare. Too much theory and not enough time watching a play on stage can do that. So I casually picked No Country For Old Men, and there went six hours when I was planning on being asleep.
It’s dense, tightly wrapped, and just beautiful, at least, so far. Plus there’s a nod, a suggestion that, unlike previous work, it’s a little more accessible. And I’m not even a hundred pages into it thus far.
Amazon’s settings, for me anyway, popped up Blood Meridian as a secondary suggestion. And until I started this one, my previous conclusion was that Blood Meridian was a better tale than the more famous trilogy.
Time will tell. Plus, at least 100 pages into it? It’s a got a few points that make it less “macho” than previous efforts. However, don’t confuse “less macho” with prose that isn’t muscular.
It’s in my pack as I head to San Antonio.
