All the Pretty Horses is my absolute favorite without a doubt. This marks my third time reading it, and it's also my first encounter with "The Crossing" and "Cities of the Plains". I am certain that I will read them all over again in the future. Brad Pitt's voice is simply sublime. The combination of the wonderful writing and his narration is not only spell-binding but also extremely moving.

The story in All the Pretty Horses takes the reader on an unforgettable journey. The vivid descriptions of the landscapes and the characters' emotions draw you in and make you feel as if you are right there with them. The way McCarthy weaves the tale is truly masterful, and Pitt's narration brings it to life in a whole new way.

"The Crossing" and "Cities of the Plains" are equally captivating. They continue the story and expand on the themes introduced in All the Pretty Horses. The characters face new challenges and make difficult decisions, and the reader is left on the edge of their seat, eager to see what will happen next. I can't wait to read these books again and discover new details and meanings each time.

Monumental trilogy.

As I gently brushed off the ancient biblical dust from the pages, I found myself completely immersed in the slowly flowing and captivating atmosphere of its narrative.

In brief, the characters embark on a journey through Mexico, adhering to a philosophy of movement - "I just need to keep moving" (which deeply resonates with my own philosophy of travel). Along the way, they often take illogical actions (after all, how much logic truly exists in life?), relying more on intuition than understanding. Life throws challenges at them, but it's not a major concern for our heroes. They simply need to keep pressing forward. I refer to multiple heroes because the novels are not interconnected and can be read independently without losing their essence.

The first novel, "All the Pretty Horses," is a coming-of-age story filled with love, madness, and other corresponding attributes. Describing the plot seems redundant. Although there is a film adaptation of the book, I hesitate to watch it, fearing that it may diminish the magic of McCarthy's ascetic language.

I must specifically highlight the first part of the novel "The Crossing," which could easily stand alone as a separate book. It tells the story of a boy and a she-wolf, embarking on a metaphysical journey so profound that it overshadows everything written in the subsequent chapters.

And indeed, phrases like "The dead have no nationality." resonate deeply and deserve to be etched in stone.

This monumental trilogy truly offers a unique and thought-provoking reading experience.

I very much enjoyed the trilogy as a whole.

I went into it completely unaware of the story, which led me to believe after the second book that the three books were only linked thematically. Surprisingly and enjoyably, this was false. Here are a few thoughts on each book:

In "All the Pretty Horses", the first novel of the trilogy, McCarthy mourns the passage of time and the ways in which life uproots us. The novel focuses on 16-year-old John Grady Cole. As he enters adulthood, we mourn with him the loss of simpler times, the confinement of boundless hope, and the extinguishing of those first, pure sparks of love. McCarthy's almost musical descriptions of the harsh landscape set an appropriate tone for the unforgiving world that awaits Cole. Yet, the main character remains resolute despite it all. It's truly compelling stuff.

"The Crossing" is a heartbreaking dirge for the old west, a meditation on true brotherhood, and an illustration of the power of myth to unite and even create communities across space and time. However, the myth of the west is clearly in decline as the modern world, symbolized by the overwhelming influence of WWII in the US, leaves people searching for the power and personality of myth in the midst of an impersonal machine-world.

"Cities of the Plain" brings the two main characters from the first two novels together in a story that once again emphasizes the seemingly eternal divide between the US and Mexico. For a resident of one country to seek his fortune in the other only leads to pain, heartache, and loss. McCarthy concludes the novel with a searching epilogue that is laced with hope - or at least some measure of solace or comfort. It provides a cathartic ending to this perceptive and beautifully written trilogy.

So I've read 'The Road,' but this was my first introduction to the books that cemented McCarthy's reputation. I'll review them briefly individually.

All The Pretty Horses: 4/5 stars. Borderline 5. It's a bleak yet touching tale. Blevins, one of the minor characters, is truly outstanding - just pitch-perfect and leaving you longing for more. The chess-mastery and the grand dame had their drawbacks. The former was a bit unbelievable, and the latter was a bit too obvious about many things. However, I generally liked the dialogue and the strange, short-lived camaraderie of the three amigos in Mexico.

The Crossing: 2/5 stars. It begins well, and I really wanted to like the 'boy meets wolf' story. But the interaction with the wolf became too unbelievable too soon. Also, while I liked the foreboding of the errant Indian, much else didn't make sense in terms of the timing of his attack and the pursuit through Mexico. I did like the scene where they found the horses being driven across a plain and thought they'd recovered them. But this 'Murphy's Law' style of storytelling quickly wore on my patience. All The Pretty Horses was fresh and interesting, but here it felt like things were just going wrong at every turn to push the characters to rock-bottom. The girl started out interesting but became uninteresting with the elopement. There was too much pointless waxing eloquent. It seemed every character had a need to unburden their soul to the wayward Billy - why? And to what end? It became tiresome.

Cities of the Plain: 2/5 stars. There's some really good dialogue and a strong start. But while The Crossing dragged on far too long, this one didn't give us enough of the camaraderie between the ranch-hands. The characters weren't well-distinguished, either in appearance or behavior. Minor characters were largely forgettable. The intro, though good, went on for far too long. The 'boy-meets-hooker' story was borderline absurd. I understand the fascination with broken things, but it was too obvious and tedious in the telling. The pimp was almost interesting but then wasn't.

Overall, this was a frustrating and uneven collection. I really enjoyed All The Pretty Horses, and I think McCarthy really hit on something there. But the flaws in the other two books are glaring. They feel like Hollywood sequels and don't add much to what was already covered in the first book. The depths explored in that first tome were indeed brutal and unmatched.

So overall... just okay and disappointing in many ways. In fact, had it not been for Blevins, I don't know what I would've thought of All The Pretty Horses... probably just a 3/5.

I may have more thoughts later as it's all still a bit fresh.

I really liked these books individually, but in that capacity there were things that kept me from absolutely flipping over them.

With All the Pretty Horses, I just wasn't that into John Grady Cole's character - a bit too good, too easily admirable. The book gave us two other significant characters so it's not just the "JGC is awesome" show, but he's so obviously the superior product to them that it's hard to fully rally behind them even for contrarians like myself who couldn't fully get behind the romanticism of the main protagonist. That said, everything else about it is unimpeachable. The prose is as evocative as anything you'll encounter, the landscape and horse scenes that the book is known for very much included. The dialog between the main characters is likewise on point throughout, something that holds throughout the trilogy. Likewise, the Mexico of this book is a truly immersive place.

The Crossing shares a lot of that - the sharp dialog between friends (or in this case brothers), the vivid descriptiveness, the whittling away of a young man's innocence. Yet in spite of that it's also a totally different beast. This follows the unwritten rule that the middle of a trilogy is the darkest, even if Cities of the Plain doesn't exactly let The Crossing run away with that title. But this is the most challenging of the three, which honestly works both for and against it.

The Mexico that new lead Billy Parnham repeatedly ventures down to is a scarier, more surreal place than the one John Grady encountered, even allowing that things got pretty dark for him, too. McCarthy's prose absorbs this element - sentences get significantly longer, knowledge (?) is often distilled in the form of hallucinogenic rants, and the amount of Spanish at times skyrockets. On the downside, I only really enjoyed one of the three rants (the...blind guy's), and if you're not enjoying them they really grind the book to a halt for pages at a time. On a whole, the middle of the book meanders a bit here and there.

That said, everything up through Billy's first return to the US is as good as anything I've read - the early scenes trying to trap the wolf and Billy's journey with it into the fever dream of Mexico is practically mind-blowing for both our young hero and us as readers. I've rarely felt so transported to a place as those frozen, lonely mountains the Parnhams make their home near. While it's true that things are less consistent after that, there's still a ton to love as Billy is repeatedly stripped of what matters to him - his interactions with the unerringly kind locals he encounters are great, as is the troubled bond with brother Boyd, and once in a while McCarthy drops a masterful action sequence on us to balance the more languid parts. The story is phenomenal, maybe my favorite of the three, it's just occasionally marred by stylistic choices, in my opinion.

What boosts it all to five stars is Cities of Plain, a book that outside of the context of the others wouldn't be nearly as powerful, but coming after Books 1 and 2 serves as a nigh-perfect conclusion. Our two leads have now met and formed a strong friendship despite a near-decade age gap, and are living a fairly settled life among like-minded souls, though reality and the second half of the twentieth century are very much encroaching on their way of life from the corners. McCarthy seems to go out of his way to keep the other cowboys on the farm likable but indistinct for the most part, which just further serves that the boys have found their people. As far as distinct new characters, we do get ranch owner Mac, his elderly father in law who's struggling to deal with his increasing senility with dignity, and Eduardo, the slick, violent pimp who serves as the story's villain.

Needless to say, things don't stay calm and happy too long, and established characteristics and tendencies show back up in Cole & Parnham, to painful effect. As things build towards the heartbreaker ending, even images and the like begin to recur, possibly supporting some of fatalistic philosophies Billy's encounters through his adventures. By the end, he remained my favorite character, but with time running out on the book I suddenly gained a new respect and appreciation for his younger foil. Cities of the Plain also features perhaps the most exciting action sequence of the series, too, in the form of a graphic wild dog hunt. All of this is to say the concluding book does everything that the previous books did well, leaves out the flaws that kept The Crossing from perfection, and provides satisfying ends to both characters' very different journeys. The brief epilogue really tugs at the heartstrings, though thankfully in a very different way than the proper end, which more tears at them.

All told, a very immersive trilogy where each book is to some extent capable of being read on its own (circumstances determined that I read The Crossing first, actually), but which I would encourage everyone to take in their intended order to appreciate the thematic development properly, both for the characters and the way of life they're so devoted to. These are three excellent books that, taken as a whole, transcend even their individual accomplishments (well, save maybe that first section of The Crossing...that was something else) and form one of the most satisfying reading experiences I've had. Can't wait to finally get to Blood Meridian.

I am truly overjoyed that I managed to read the entire Border Trilogy straight through. In total, it consists of more than 1000 pages. These three books are truly exceptional. Each one, on its own, is a monumental work. However, when read as a complete set of three, it becomes a truly remarkable journey.

I first read them individually in the early 1990s when they were first published. At that time, I was living in the Midwest, exiled from my native Colorado lands. Much like the border region some 400 miles to the south, these books made me long for the land I had left behind. The sense of place in these books is extraordinary. The richness of detail is such that it makes you feel as if you have become a part of the story.

McCarthy must surely be a cowboy. His intimate knowledge of horses, the workings of the ranch, the cattle, and the country is truly a marvel. John Grady Cole, the protagonist from the first book, reappears in the third, as does Billy Parham. Naturally, they form a deep friendship. Mexico is always there, just across the river, and their adventures take them there and back across. The pastoral world is painted with such richness, with such lovely, caring, and generous people, except for the bad guys.

To say that I recommend these books is an understatement. They are right up there with 100 Years of Solitude as all-time greats. However, the reader should be forewarned that these are very sad stories.

As good as a book gets, but don't expect any fun!

This trilogy is harsh beyond belief. He is cruel to the reader's sentiments as much as to the characters.

The setting is in the 1940s southern USA. The border is not just that between the US and Mexico. It is also between the old rural southern way of life and the new America that is rolling down from the north. Moreover, it is between the (more or less) civilised US and the primitive nature of Mexico at that time (as the author depicts it), full of kind strangers and brutally savage crooks.

I suspect it is a caricature of what it was like then, but most caricatures have some basis in the truth.

Also, brush up your Spanish before reading: he makes no effort to translate and there is a fair amount of dialogue south of the border.

Depressing but a brilliantly written trilogy.

Overall, this trilogy offers a unique and unflinching look at a particular time and place. The author's writing style is masterful, despite the harsh and often depressing subject matter. While it may not be a light or easy read, it is definitely one that will stay with you long after you've finished the final page. If you're looking for a thought-provoking and challenging literary experience, this trilogy is well worth checking out.

I truly can't recall the last book, or rather books, that had such a profound impact on me.

The stories within are sad, yet it's not a forced or artificial kind of sadness. They are sad because you can already anticipate how the journey will conclude even before you've ventured too far along the path. Just like most excellent works that mirror the truth of life back to the reader, The Border Trilogy simply presents us with cause and effect without passing judgment.

The sadness lies in the truth of what we already know is the inevitable outcome of traveling a particular road. It's neither bad nor good; it simply exists.

McCarthy's prose is comparable to Faulkner's in that they both possess the skill to vividly bring to life a specific type of American culture and effortlessly transition between that prose and beautiful, descriptive alliteration.

Finally, there is an intriguing moral code that weaves its way through all three stories. Discovering that code is part of the delight of reading this series.

It's a reading experience that lingers in your mind long after you've turned the last page.

The first part of the trilogy is magical, special, and at times heart-stopping. However, the next two volumes could no longer reach the level of the first one.

The atmosphere still remains thrilling, and the characters are truly tough guys carved from real steel, who rarely speak, but when they do, it's significant.

Nevertheless, the story itself becomes drawn-out, and although the reader can experience a few highs, after a while, reading the monumental volume feels more like a task than an adventure.

I know that the Border Trilogy was published in three parts in Hungarian. It might be worthwhile to only obtain the first one.

This was truly so incredible that I might just start wearing cowboy hats unironically.

The thought of donning a cowboy hat without any hint of sarcasm or irony had never crossed my mind before this amazing experience.

But now, after witnessing something so extraordinary, I find myself seriously considering it.

Maybe it's the charm and allure of the cowboy hat that has suddenly appealed to me.

Or perhaps it's the sense of adventure and freedom that it represents.

Whatever the reason, I can't deny the fact that this newfound interest in cowboy hats has taken hold of me.

I can already picture myself strutting down the street, looking confident and stylish in my very own cowboy hat.

It's a bold move, but sometimes, you have to step out of your comfort zone and embrace the unexpected.

So, who knows? Maybe soon, you'll see me wearing a cowboy hat with pride.

All the Pretty Horses is the first novel in McCarthy’s remarkable The Border Trilogy. It tells the story of sixteen-year-old John Grady Cole. He has an extraordinary love for the land and a unique devotion to raising horses. When his grandfather dies and his parents separate, his mother plans to sell the ranch where he grew up in southern Texas. To escape the chaos in his life, John sets out on horseback with his friend to explore the desert wilderness beyond the border in Mexico. His search for peace becomes a test of survival and a search for decency in a cruel world. McCarthy examines the harshness of the human condition through John Grady and finds a redemptive quality that teaches the young man important lessons. McCarthy creates a vivid and breathtaking mood and atmosphere. His beautiful and precise prose has a biblical-like power as he describes the merciless borderland and the depths of one’s strength and resilience. All the Pretty Horses is a masterpiece of contemporary American literature.

The Crossing is the second novel in the trilogy. It follows the life-changing experiences of two brothers, Billy and Boyd Parham. After Billy traps a marauding she-wolf, he decides not to kill it but to return it to its home in the remote Mexican mountains. When he gets back to his family’s ranch, he discovers a terrible tragedy has happened. He reunites with Boyd and they head back across the border to find out what happened. Their journey takes them through a world of wanderers, philosophers, bandits, and entertainers. Against the backdrop of America’s entry into World War II, the story is both heartbreaking and inspiring. McCarthy’s language skills and narrative abilities are remarkable as he explores the deepest questions of human existence and the lessons we learn about the human condition. He brings great compassion and understanding to the themes of loss and redemption. The Crossing is a major achievement and one of McCarthy’s most impressive books. It can be read independently of All the Pretty Horses.

Cities of the Plain is the third novel in the trilogy. It brings together the protagonists from the previous two volumes. John Grady Cole is now nineteen and Billy Parham is nine years older. Despite their age difference, they have an unbreakable friendship and a passion for riding horses and living off the land. They work as ranch hands for a respected landowner near the Mexican border. When John Grady falls in love with a sixteen-year-old Mexican prostitute, he angers her pimp. His determination to marry the girl leads him into a dangerous and fateful situation. Billy tries to protect his friend and gets drawn into the violent turmoil. As in the first two volumes, McCarthy makes the landscape and the characters who endure it an important part of his writing. The narrative explores many aspects of life on the ranch with keen insight. In the action-packed and tense scenes, McCarthy’s descriptive and nuanced writing is second to none. Cities of the Plain is an excellent conclusion to an amazing trilogy. Anyone who wants to fully understand McCarthy’s work should read all three volumes.

I firmly believe that McCarthy is indeed one of the most significant writers within the past 100 years.

His trilogy presents a powerful exploration that brings us face to face with the complex and conflicted nature of our time on this earth. It vividly showcases how our endeavors to find our rightful place often seem futile.

Although there is relatively little explicit discussion about how God integrates into our lives, it should be abundantly clear to any discerning reader that He is not only our sole hope here on earth but also in the eternal realm.

McCarthy's works have the remarkable ability to make us reflect deeply on the human condition and our relationship with the divine, leaving a lasting impact on our understanding of life and its meaning.

His writing style, characterized by its stark beauty and profound insights, further enhances the power of his message and solidifies his status as a literary giant.