No Country for Old Men (Vintage International)

I read the book once-not carefully - and knew I didn't get it. Then I read it again with some care; and when I put it down that second time it bothered me that I still didn't know what the book was really about. Then I saw the movie and it cleared up a lot of it; but there were still things I didn't understand - locations, time lines, identities., who if anyone has the money at the end of the book Above all you need a map of West Texas to follow the story; and you need to consult it often. And now I have gone back once again to clear some things up and think about what McCarthy was really trying to say, if anything. And I'm still not sure. But I need to get this review off my mind. So to the extent that McCarthy was writing for a knowing audience the book is a flop. To the extent that once again McCarthy was showing off his superb writing skills - particularly his ability to give us a dystopian story, to write doom drenched fiction it was a success. Would I read it again? Probably. Would I recommend it to you? Depends. About McCarthy as a writer: No one writing today can say so much or describe so much on one page as McCarthy - and in words of few syllables. Nor can anyone writing today bring the reader into the picture as well as McCarthy nor sketch a character as well nor write conversation so well that you can almost hear the Texas twang, the rural patois of a good old boy Texas lawman. Read a page of McCarthy describing Llewellyn Moss's first view of the scene of four burned shot-up trucks surrounded by three dead bodies and one wounded man in the Texas desert and you are right there. Listen to Sheriff Ed Tom Bell talk to his uncle Ellis and you are in the room with them. I just wish he would be clearer. Was this a requiem for the good old days in West Texas? Was it a tribute to the men of that time? Was it a study of evil? (Frankly I have the same questions in respect to his fascination with evil in the only other McCarthy books I have read - The Road and Blood Horizon ) Was sit a Jeremiad against the hippie generation? The narcotics trade? Or was it just a good story interspersed with a lot of philosophy, giving Melville a run for his money? I guess it was all of these things. But I wish now that, having put the book down, I really knew what he was trying to tell me. The obvious story is fairly clear; Moss finds the trucks and the men in the Texas desert just this side of the border. Everyone is dead except the wounded man asking for water. (Moss has none.) One of the trucks is loaded with bricks of cocaine. There is a man lying dead by a briefcase under a tree. The briefcase holds 2.3 million in hundred dollar bills. Moss takes it. He returns that night with water, but the man has been shot and the cocaine is gone. He realizes too late that he may not be alone, all terrain four wheelers with lights are in the vicinity and he is spotted. He runs. And a lot of the rest of the narrative is the chase. Obviously two sides have been cheated - one of the drugs, one of the money - and both are out to find Moss and the money. The principle agent of the chase is a psychopathic killer with almost supernatural powers - Anton Chigurth who, armed with a compressed air bottle connected to a cattle stun gun and a sawed off shotgun, manages in two hundred blood stained pages to kill Moss, his wife, his mother in law, a deputy, an innocent citizen, two or three hotel clerks, the business man behind the drug dealing - all in separate killings - and then three Mexicans in a gun fight all together; and if you can tell me after reading this book how Chigurth managed to find all these people (even though a transponder was hidden in the cash and accounts for his presence in at lest one of he killings) I'll buy you a good dinner at a place of your choice. McCarthy, being the man he thinks he is, doesn't have to explain. Chigurth just appears And there is no denouement, no satisfaction, no justice, no catharsis Though injured Chigurth just walks away out of the pages. Evil, points out McCarthy, is still out there - and always will be. That's the narrative; but it's not the story. The story is that West Texas has changed so much since the end of World War II to 1980 (the period in which the narrative is set) that it is no longer a country for old men; and that is lamentable. Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, a man who is sure to steal your heart, tells the story in his own words, about how things are now, how things were then, what men should be like, about his opinions on life in first person italicized ruminations which begin and end the book and which are often interspersed into the narrative. They are the guts of what McCarthy has to say about life; and they are worth reading. The rest of the stuff is just well written bloody crime stuff. You'll love Ed Tom and adore his wife Lorraine who, though unready, cheerfully goes into retirement with Ed Tom who, after thirty-five years of being a sheriff. finds it is no country for old men. JBP - December 2007

When I first read `The Road' I was astounded at how much of an emotional impact it had on me. It made me think about things I never expected it to and made me care in a way I wasn't used to. It made me realize that I needed to read everything Cormac McCarthy had written and fast. Sadly, I didn't act upon that instinct quick enough. In fact I just picked up `No Country for Old Men' the other day to sit down a give it a try; but I didn't have to try. In fact `No Country for Old Men' is the easiest read I've ever encountered. I didn't put the book down, not once, and read it in one straight sitting. It's a good thing I had nothing to do Saturday because when you stay up all night to read a novel you end up useless the next day. `No Country for Old Men' has a lot going for it. McCarthy's writing style is easy to adapt to. He writes in a fashion that's easy to understand, not to wordy, not overly descriptive yet he never fails to leave the reader without a sound sense of what is taking place. One thing I fell in love with was the way he adapted his writing style to the people and places he was introducing. The novel takes place in the dusty plains of Texas and so the sentence structure is that of a Texan, incomplete and grammatically incorrect. This is not an insult; I live in Texas, I know how they talk. It's funny because I read some of this novel aloud to my daughter (not the bloody parts) and my wife noticed that I read in a deep southern accent. The wording is so absorbing you start thinking in a drawl. That, my friends, is impressive. Cormac's masterpiece follows a few characters whose lives interconnect thanks to some drug money and an unfortunate decision. Llewelyn Moss is a simple man, a war (Vietnam) vet who lives a simple life with his young wife Carla Jean. His life gets plenty complicated when he stumbles upon some dead bodies and a case full of cash. He takes the money and runs, but soon realizes that he can't stop running; he's being hunted by two parties, both after the money. Psychopathic killer Anton Chigurh is hot on Moss' tail, breathing down his neck so-to-speak, while Sheriff Bell is desperately trying to locate Moss before it is too late. Caught in the middle of it all is Moss' wife, an emotionally moving casualty of this `war'. Each chapter of `No Country for Old Men' is opened with Sheriff Bell's thoughts on the current state of affairs. As the body count rises and the reasoning behind it all fades into a dark blur he contemplates why things have gotten so bad. He reasons on the way things were growing up and how much worse they have gotten and he sheds so much light on the purpose behind these pages. He comes to the realization that he is just too old for this; that his morals are so different from the morals crowding society today and that to try and understand it will only drag you down. He realizes first hand that this is no country for old men. Each character though adds layers to McCarthy's prose, not just Bell. One profound character is that of Chigurh whose sense of justice and loyalty is tainted by his savage lust for blood. The dialog within this novel is so strong in it's subtlety that it carries his characters to levels beyond them. When Anton first explains the significance of his coin toss we are captivated by his logic; and his final, devastating scene with Moss' wife Carla Jean we are moved so deeply by the entire encounter. Scenes of these conversations permeate the novel and take on lives of their own. A particular scene with Llewelyn and a young hitchhiker bring similar feelings of warmth and sympathy. Each blood-soaked page leads us to a further understanding of Cormac's message and as the novel comes to a dramatic close we feel as though we can relate to Bell and his longer for yesteryear. Times have certainly changed and definitely not for the better. Soon, very soon, this will be no country for young men, for any man for that matter. Soon, very soon, all hope will be lost.

Story about an older sheriff, trying to solve a case of murder in the southern desert of Texas. Pretty much the title refers to how things had changed in the U.S. for the older sheriff and the older folks who comes in contact with. He deals with this unsolved case where dope money is stolen from a deal gone bad in the back desert country where several folks are dead. The other is the story of the local guy, a Vietnam Vet, who was out hunting and came upon this scene first, found everyone dead or dying, and then too the money. What ensues is a socialpath killer, Chigurh, hunting him down from as far away as Eagle Pass, Texas to near El Paso. Chigurh is what makes the book good, and more readable. The harder part of the read was the lack of quotations that McCarthy uses, which is intentional. At times, had to re-read sections to figure out who was talking. Also looked up when this was supposed to have taken place, and it was 1980. If you don't like violence, avoid this book. Every couple of chapters, Sheriff Bell, has a section italicized where is posting his own thoughts, like a diary. Had seen the movie first, and it was easier to visualize them while reading the book and hearing there voices.

One hundred and fifteen reviews at the time I write this one, including one written in mock-Cormac McCarthy voice, and it is clear that people either love or hate this book. Put me in the love category - this is a brilliant and unforgettable work. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN breaks McCarthy's mold, moving at a fast pace with relatively little description, a lot less lyricism, and minimalist dialog whose pitch and tone creates an atmosphere all its own. In fact, McCarthy's dialog here creates the scenery. Who needs mountains and trees and rivers and hawks and wolves and horses when we have these sparse but rich voices? Those who criticize this book for its violence miss the point - America was founded and conquered by violence, leads the world in gun ownership and deaths from guns, spawns Columbines and drive-by shootings, and imposes its military might more freely on others than any other country in the world. Through his stories, McCarthy explodes the myth of a benign, peaceful and peace-loving America. We are all of us just a random coin flip away from a BTK killer or a Jeffrey Dahmer, a Columbine, or a drug deal gone sour that leaves innocent bystanders dead in its wake. The title, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, is a gorgeous double entendre about the story's contents - the setting of the book is no place for old men to live and work any more (witness Sheriff Bell's fear of the psychopathic killer, Chigurh), and it has become a place in which few old men remain alive. They are all too busy being killed off in their relative youth. As for the main characters, Anton Chigurh comes close to being one of the scariest creatures ever described in fiction. Utterly amoral, his curious breed of ethics consists of being true to his word and honest with respect to his clients' dealings. He would never take an unearned cent, yet he thinks nothing of blowing a steel bolt through the forehead of anyone who gets in his way (or who might remember him). He wreaks havoc through south Texas and yet remains virtually invisible - almost no one who could describe him is still alive. Although he appears to be named for a "chigger" - a parasitic larva found in the southwest that sucks the blood of humans - his bite is far worse. He is Death itself, minus the black hooded cloak and the long-handled scythe. Is there anyone who doesn't believe deep inside that there are more Chigurh's (or near-Chigurh's) among us? It is through his faint-hearted pursuit of Chigurh that Sheriff Bell confronts his own fears and demons. Bell's meditations, short chapters presented entirely in italics, function almost like seeing his life flash before his eyes at the moment of death. He contemplates his love and life with his wife Loretta, his cowardly behavior at his moment of truth in World War II, and his ineffectualness in protecting the citizens of his county when the time came that they truly needed him. I have read every one of McCarthy's books and loved all but the most recent of them. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN is clearly not the novel many readers expected of Cormac McCarthy, but frankly, I'm happy it's not another CROSSING or CITIES OF THE PLAIN. Beside, where does it say that he has to keep rewriting BLOOD MERIDIAN or ALL THE PRETTY HORSES? This is a fascinating read, at once a bloody crime thriller, a meditation on chance and random violence in American society, and an exploration of what makes for a life well-lived. Read it for what McCarthy gives us, not for what you bring to it in the way of expectations or preconceptions. The story is strong medicine, but nothing else seems to work any more. After you finish, listen to the song "If It Were Up to Me," by Cheryl Wheeler. It offers an interesting accompaniment to this book.

Really good book, the writing style was a bit confusing / frustrating to me at first but I grew to really enjoy it halfway through the book. The descriptions of Anton really stood out to me, I like that he’s described as “faintly exotic”, there’s not too many characters that are strange like Anton, very creative. The book itself (physically) is easy to read because it’s not too small but it’s not too big, idk how to explain that but a book being too small has kept me from reading it in the past 😭

Man finds lots of money. Man runs, is pursued. Many casualties ensue. I came to McCarthy by way of The Road (Oprah's Book Club) , which was one of the most profoundly moving things I've read in fifteen years; I find myself thinking of that book and its setting, questions and issues almost daily. Through it I became aware of McCarthy's other work, and was eager to get to it. Then came the Coen brothers' brilliant No Country for Old Men , and I had to move this up in the reading queue. I did save the film until after I was done with the book, and I'm glad I did; this is better. As in The Road, there are many unanswered questions about aspects of the story off the main narrative line--who did what, where characters and events came from, where they go, what happens next, etc. They are tantalizing, an aspect I have found that keeps McCarthy's work in my head, sorting through the unexplained, wondering in which way these superfluous stories could have gone. They are a great hook, providing tangential snippets of context to a circuitous, unpredictable yet headlong single story line. This story is deceptive, beginning as a very west Texas noir tale of adventure. I was reminded of James Dickey's magnificent DELIVERANCE (BLOOMSBURY FILM CLASSICS S.) . But while Deliverance was Dickey's rumination on what exactly it means to be a man in the age of the office job, Lay Z Boy recliners and strip malls, McCarthy posits a much more simple question: are you ready to be a man when the time comes? When Life--with that capital L--comes at you and delivers unbidden the horrific, tragic or sublimely blissful, will you be ready? Can you make yourself ready; is there any way to prepare? And if you think you're ready, are you really? McCarthy asks: what have you done, and in the same breath, what have you not done? What have you overlooked, and what--this is crucial--happens to you and others depending on how ready you are? What are you prepared to do? How far will you go? Being ready means being prepared to act instantly, outside of cultural and societal norms, against your upbringing and your education, at the most basic level, not unthinkingly, but unflinchingly and uncompromisingly. Can you strip it all away, and if you do what does that make you? Can you come back? This is where a man can lose his soul. Both The Road and this work make it clear that there is a point where a man chooses to keep or forfeit his humanity, his dignity, when he chooses decency over barbarism. McCarthy's exploration shows that when the choice--made consciously--is for dignity and righteousness, ultimately it is self-destructive. McCarthy's work has a place for those who hold on to that uniquely human core of decency, who see what really needs to be done, the ugly and brutal which may need to be done for survival, and in essence condemn themselves, usually wittingly, by remaining true to decency and the care/service of others. Death is coming for us all, only a matter of time, so why not take a stand and choose your time and place, and do it with a self-determined honor, with a clean slate? There may be a reckoning--that's really as far as I see McCarthy going down that road of Good v. Evil, God v. Satan--but if there is, these decisions will tip that scale, and for those that remain behind you live on as an example of the right choice. The book's style is sparse, matching the desert and scrubland the story inhabits. McCarthy's narrative convention of not using quotations is here, but is neither a distraction nor does it lend to confusion. The narrative structure is essentially cinematic, with the sheriff-narrator providing a voiceover context, the real depth of the story, and the chapters often moving in parallel. The dialog flows as easily and effortlessly as Elmore Leonard's best, and there is no question as to what is happening in the narrative. Surprisingly, the "action," the main story, was done well before the book was. The bulk of the book and the story of money, guns and blood exists as the extended setup for one man's rumination on life's purpose, the existence of God, and what it means to be true to yourself, those you love, and those you serve. This is the last 40-odd pages of the book, and where the deepest contemplation lies. There is a lot going on here, with a lot of to my reading earnest exploration of a man's purpose, his honor, his character, and ultimately his identity. Is God out there? And if he is, and if he's the kind of guy we've all been told he is, how is it that life plays out in these ways? Bottom line: This is no happy, light and frothy, stereotypically inane TV-style read of a luckless loner who makes good after some minor tribulation. The story is stark and dark, violent and unflinching, just as life is. McCarthy poses a pessimistic vision of where we are and where we are headed, and explores whether the noble choice of decency and selflessness is tenable, even though it seems to be suicidal.

This book was difficult to read. It was a good book, but it could have been a great book! The ending left me hanging.

Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men is undeniably gripping, written in his trademark sparse prose and built around a tense cat-and-mouse pursuit. The atmosphere is bleak, the violence is abrupt, and the moral decay at the heart of the story is unmistakable. When the novel is firing on all cylinders, it’s as sharp and relentless as Anton Chigurh himself. But as a whole, it doesn’t quite live up to its reputation. The biggest issue is that the book often feels more like a screenplay than a novel. Scenes are cinematic but oddly hollow, with characters sketched so minimally that it’s hard to feel truly invested in them. Sheriff Bell’s reflective monologues, while thematically important, drag on and disrupt the pacing just when the action starts to build. Instead of deepening the story, they can feel repetitive—circling the same lament about a changing world without offering new insight. Additionally, McCarthy’s stylistic choices—no quotation marks, fragmented dialogue, and abrupt scene shifts—occasionally make the narrative feel murky rather than artful. It works brilliantly in some of his other books, but here it sometimes feels more like an affectation.