I finished reading Cormac McCarthy ‘s The Road yesterday. I have to be honest, I nearly put it down. Parts of the book were even too dark for me and I really like Richard Morgan. It made my inner Pollyanna scream. However, I pushed through to a satisfying payoff.

The Road begins with a man and his son, referenced only as The Man and The Boy throughout the book, on a long journey across a post-apocalyptic landscape toward the southern coast. There are no specific references to geography, there is no explanation of the catastrophe, and the stark prose is deeply in the point of view of The Man.

His is a world of fear and a world to be feared. The social contract of his time is to approach no one, but if you must, do so with your gun showing—even if it requires carving false bullets out of wood to fill the empty chambers. In this world, a can of food is a fortune and a warm place to sleep a paradise. Infanticide and cannibalism are common and not always separate horrific acts.

Despite this dark world, there are those rare individuals who “carry the fire”. The Boy often refers to these people as the good guys. Good guys seem to be in short supply, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because they really are in short supply or if the man’s general paranoia (well earned, mind you) keeps The Man and The Boy from ever coming into contact with them.

It’s a touching story of survival and a parent’s love for a child. However, like any good piece of literature, it’s so much more.

There’s a point in the book when The Man and The Boy finally reach the coast and find an overturned yacht. Foraging is a common survival trade for our heroes, and during the course of his scavenging he discovers a sextant. The object is beautifully described by the author and the attention it receives transforms it from a tool of navigation into an artifact of an enlightened age. There are no heavy handed messages in this novel, but the philosophical implications are obvious. Science and reason are the causal results of The Fire.

The Fire is the human spirit, the human soul and its goodness, the light. There’s no blaming of Science and Reason for the destruction of man in this story. Science is not the enemy, as it seems to be in so many modern science fiction novels, but the beauty of the past.

The relationship of the father and son is the type I love to see in literature. The father is nurturing, protective, apologetic for the condition, and does his best to shelter The Boy from seeing too much of the world around him. Memories and thoughts are an important part of their conversations. Hope is what keeps them on The Road.

The ending is bitter sweet. It clearly illustrates what it means to be human; truly human, not just the bipedal animal of the specie Homo sapiens.

I tend to read the books I love more than once. I’ve read Dune at least six times, Atlas Shrugged four times, and Les Miserables twice. I will likely read The Road again. It’s not a warning, but a guide, to those trying to hold onto the fire through the cold and dark.