This was my first McCarthy book. At first it came off as dull, everything written matter of factly, no commentary or insight from the characters. As it went on though I realized the banality of the prose highlights how depraved and senseless the violent acts of Lester Ballard are, ~~the nonchalant shooting of the boy in the truck was especially heart-wrenching for me.~~

He came up flailing and sputtering and began to thrash his way toward the line of willows that marked the submerged creek bank. He could not swim, but how would you drown him? His wrath seemed to buoy him up. Some halt in the way of things seems to work here. See him. You could say that he's sustained by his fellow men, like you. Has peopled the shore with them calling to him. A race that gives suck to the maimed and the crazed, that wants their wrong blood in its history and will have it. But they want this man's life. He has heard them in the night seeking him with lanterns and cries of execration. How then is he borne up? Or rather, why will not these waters take him?

As Ballard's living conditions deteriorate, his crimes become more degenerate likewise. From his farmhouse being auctioned off, to a run down disheveled cabin, to living in caves like a nomad. It felt like this evolution was almost purposeful, to showcase how this world creates men like Ballard, his amorality was borne into him as a child. I thought the scene where ~~he sees a child on a churchbus that reminds him of his younger self~~ especially drives this home, the thought of what he was and what could've been is tragically painted wordlessly to us. Also, reminds me of the song "Goodmorning captain" by Slint, ~~the child and the future self meeting, etc.~~

Surprisingly beautiful and enjoyable book, will be reading more McCarthy.

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