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that_was_then_this_is_now 's review for:
The Crossing
by Cormac McCarthy
If there is a book and its companions of the Border trilogy, that ever irritated me more, I cannot recall it. I work in the domain of trauma, so I am even more aware of the issues at hand. This book crashes into violence, retraumatising all involved, leaving healing as an impossible ambition. I could go on, but safe to say, I have seen and visited as bad in my life and in clinical settings with the people who come to unburden and heal. It is a long path for them, like this twisted set of words and works, but 'possession', 'honor', and all the patriarchal drivers only serve to show what a hollow, desperate life patriarchy has to offer. THEN, there is the laziness of the tropes, and 'prose'. which continues in later books (the Crossing). The patriarchal female's tirade all in one tirade, and singular in the paucity of women in the dialogue, and when present are without agency, the elderly in christian, patriotic suffering. White incursions into the ethnic reality of survival. The rampant entitlement! May I offer to those who have survived reading this book ,and its threesome companions, Ali Smith's Season quartette: Autumn, Winter, Spring, Summer? If you have the stamina to read these McCarthy's trilogy (and I did, highlighting the insults to intelligence, only because the trilogy was gifted to me by a dear trauma suffering friend) your determination and constancy will be nurtured along the read with delights of all sorts, as she takes us along the paths of the institutional horrors enacted by individuals we ALL live with. McCarthy's trilogy and this first book are almost devoid of oxygen. Respite and curiosity came in his landscape descriptions, but boringly were usually tainted by some horror to come. This and the other 2 books have NOTHING new to tell us, especially women. Nothing is offered us to aspire to. No depth of being . Most of all this and they are not masterpieces.