>it communicates the sheer chaos of the period For me, it's the sheer chaos of being alive. There's no sympathy in McCarthy's universe, no room for sentimenta

>it communicates the sheer chaos of the period For me, it's the sheer chaos of being alive. There's no sympathy in McCarthy's universe, no room for sentimentality. It's bleak as hell. If there's loving, human contact, it's fleeting, and erodes, usually quickly, like the unforgiving landscape of all his books. There's slight redemptive quality just enduring life, enduring existence if you have the strength. He's one of the best American existentialists. "I'm still alive", is both banal and heroic in McCarthy's world.