Cormac McCarthy made me think through Outer Dark about blindness, propriety, avenging angles or devils, namelessness and about fear. The word apocalyptic has been used concerning McCarthy’s novels, the triple devastating disasters in Japan. I think of the death who because nobody recognized them are buried nameless, like the unknown soldiers in Der Englisher Friedhof near Kamp Lintfort in Germany.
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I think of the grief of the survivors of family members with a name. McCarthy’s themes are woven through the stream of information, through the extent of death and suffering in the now and wonder about my own fears. I see the old lady with a woolen vest and hat in the snow, cold and all alone: everything and everyone lost. How will she go on? How does one maintain one’s humanity and dignity under such extreme circumstances and maybe it is even harder to maintain in every day life.
The last image of Rhinty in Outer Dark is her coming upon the deserted fated place where she finds a small ribcage among the ashes of a recent fire. McCarthy’s mastery is that he says no more referring us all to our own emotional meltdowns.
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