This is a truly gritty story that cuts through like a buzzsaw. The prose is so lean and mean, without an ounce of fat. Every word is carefully chosen to drive the narrative forward with maximum impact.

And then there's the villain. Oh, the villain! This character is in a league of their own, a god tier villain if you will. They are complex, menacing, and utterly captivating. Their actions and motives keep you on the edge of your seat, constantly wondering what they will do next.

The story as a whole is a masterclass in storytelling. It grabs you by the throat from the very beginning and never lets go. You are pulled into a world of danger, excitement, and moral ambiguity. It's a story that will stay with you long after you've turned the final page.

If you're looking for a thrilling read that doesn't shy away from the darker side of human nature, then this is the story for you. It's a gritty, intense, and unforgettable experience.

If I hadn't initially witnessed the Coen brothers' adaptation, which is an absolutely remarkable movie, I highly doubt that I would have been able to comprehend this story half as proficiently.

A significant portion of this narrative functions more effectively within the visual medium of film. As a novel, it somewhat resembles an impressionist work. The stylized atmosphere gives rise to a weighty tone, which in turn infuses the narrative with an emotional hue. However, the picture isn't entirely crystal clear.

Consequently, it is a visceral novel, one that you don't merely read but rather feel.

Four stars out of five. Having been first introduced to the film, I sort of experienced this as a novelization subsequent to the fact, a slightly expanded rendition of the movie with some added inner monologue.

(Also, I was under the misapprehension that this was a book from the 1970s and that Cormac McCarthy was an author from an earlier generation. I was extremely surprised to discover that it was published in 2005.)

I recently had the opportunity to read a McCarthy novel for the very first time, and I must say that I enjoyed it far more than I initially anticipated.
The audiobook, along with its narrator, truly enhanced the experience, making this thriller incredibly gripping and the characters fascinating. I was so tempted to rate it 4 stars. If I had read the book on my own, I have a feeling that I might have found certain parts a bit dull.
There were several outstanding scenes throughout the story, and almost all of them involved Anton Chigurh, a truly terrifying and unforgettable villain. I also had a great appreciation for some of the sheriff's monologues.
Since I had not seen the movie adaptation prior to reading this book, I really had no idea how the story would conclude. And I have to admit, I'm left feeling a bit confused and disappointed. However, perhaps it's just me and I simply didn't "get" the ending.
Nonetheless, it was still an enjoyable read. But I suspect that I will have a greater liking for the movie.

I thought I'd get a re-read in before the year was out!

He's already made his mark with the western and the post-apocalyptic novel. Now, Cormac McCarthy takes on the crime thriller genre and, as always, manages to turn it into something entirely unique: "Cormac McCarthy Fiction."

The story begins as a classic noir. Llewellyn Moss, out hunting, stumbles upon a botched drug deal. There are dead Mexicans, dead dogs, dead trucks, and a satchel filled with 2 million dollars. Moss, like any热血human, decides that finders keepers and takes the money for himself. This sets off a violent chain reaction across Texas, as numerous enemies begin to search for him.

I have a preference for McCarthy's more recent novels, such as this one and "The Road," over his earlier works. It seems that he has truly refined his style, becoming more disciplined and economical. He has managed to shed some of the distracting excess while still maintaining the trademark lyricism and rumination that he is known for. This book also features some of his best characters. Moss is a great "hero," a simple yet resourceful man of action who is also charming. His lady, Carla Jean, initially gives the impression of being a bimbo, but she turns out to be much stronger, more resilient, and more perceptive than I first thought. McCarthy really surprised me with her character.

And then there's Anton Chigurh, the mysterious figure doggedly pursuing Moss. He is less of a person and more of a force, similar to the Judge in "Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West." He is the embodiment of unstoppable judgment and inescapable fate. His character is quite unsettling.

  
    Anything can be an instrument, Chigurh said. Small things. Things you wouldn't even notice. They pass from hand to hand. People don't pay attention. And then one day there's an accounting. And after that nothing is the same.
  

But it is the character of Sheriff Bell that truly provides the soul of this story and transforms it from a crime noir into Cormac McCarthy fiction, elevating it from a four-star book to a five-star one. He is the real main character here, offering a point of view for the reader as he ponders the nature of violence and his horror at the way that evil has evolved into something that he is unable to come to terms with.

  
    Things happen to you they happen. They don't ask first. They don't require your permission.
  

Another stunning, instant-classic McCarthy novel.

The book is set in the recent past. The hero, if there is one - and one could argue that it has several or none - is looking back. He lives in the shadow of the past, reflecting on what he did or might have done during World War II and those actions in light of his impressions of the characters of his ancestors. In a different moment, he compares his knowledge as a Sheriff approaching retirement of teenagers now with an old school report he came across dealing with teachers' common problems a generation or so earlier with young people.

Since another major strand of the novel is about the free trade in drugs and the violent side effects of their impact upon the local economy - the novel is set in the American South-west - one could read the book from a simple conservative view point. Disrespectful, green-haired teenagers and drug-related gun violence are seen as symptoms of our decline from a golden age. Our forebears were unimpeachable upright moral types, we are compromised and have acted weakly, and our descendants are yet worse. However, we are explicitly reminded in "Blood Meridian" that "et in Arcadia ego", and in that novel, we see the golden age of the heroic greatness of the winning of the west as an explosion of unrestrained, savage violence. Nor is the world of "The Border Trilogy" a golden past. It might have some heroism, but it is hard work and no Eden.
In brief, we are looking back at historic patterns of violence between novels, while within this book, we are also looking back at the more measured behavior of the past compared with a society increasingly governed by Mammon. We are also looking back at a man's own sense of his failure and shortcomings. A man of "the greatest generation" is uncertain about his wartime behavior. We see there are levels of reflection. If that was then, where are we now? And we wonder if all reflection on the past is misleading and self-serving.
People's greatest act of creativity, one feels in the light of these novels, is the capacity, against any evidence or sense, to continually recreate lost ages of gold. This is also a violent book and an amusing one. In one scene, a sheriff can't grasp that the scale of money involved in the drugs trade means that an aircraft can be written off as a cost of doing business expense. The other strand of the book concerns a younger man to whom a million units of currency, discovered among the bleeding remains of a drugs deal gone very bad, offers the prospect of a pleasant and easy life, but nemesis with slow and heavy foot wanders relentlessly after. In a final dream, the old sheriff appears to find reassurance and comfort in the values he associates with his family. Perhaps a suggestion that if we burden ourselves by creating false comparisons and so on, we are also capable of healing ourselves and, through our own creativity, we can find or make meaning. That the border country is no country for old men is also the conclusion of "The Border Trilogy".

Close to the American-Mexican border, a young game hunter named Moss stumbles upon the grisly scene of a drug deal gone awry.

He finds himself alone in the harsh desert, with a suitcase that holds a fortune capable of changing his life forever. Temptation gets the better of him, and he decides to take the money.

As he makes his way back to his car, he suddenly comes under fire. This marks the beginning of a perilous journey where he becomes the hunted, pursued by multiple forces, each with their own motives - some seeking the money, others the drugs, and some simply after him.

Local sheriff Tom Bell often arrives at the crime scenes after the dust has settled and the corpses have cooled. He has a shrewd sense of what is happening and endeavors to convince Moss to turn himself in.

Among the various forces closing in on Moss, there is a mysterious lone wolf who shows no qualms about causing collateral murders in his single-minded pursuit.

This neo-western crime thriller is an absolute masterpiece. The writing style, though sparse, is perfectly suited to the story, having originated as a screenplay. The characterizations are masterclasses in themselves. Every page is filled to the brim with suspense that grips the reader from start to finish.

The unforgettable antagonist represents the unstoppable winds of change with a dispassion that harks back to a bygone era. The sheriff is artfully crafted, on the verge of realizing that the American Dream is already in tatters. And Moss, the quintessential 'good Western cowboy', has a seemingly pragmatic world view that gradually reveals itself to be still self-idealized.

Through these three viewpoints, we are presented with a perfectly balanced perspective of this epic tale. For me, it's not just about the impact of the illegal drug business on the American Dream, but also about the inevitability of its destruction and the question of whether it ever truly existed in the first place.

I was completely immersed in this highly engaging and easily digestible great American novel from the very first sentence. I wholeheartedly urge you to read it if you haven't already. It's a solid 10 out of 12, a Five Star read... ALL THE STARS!

2024 read

A COUNTRY MOSTLY FOR OLD (WHITE) MEN

Why does everyone seem to love this book? How could anyone in their right mind recommend it to me?

This is an unbearable mess of affected tough-guy posturing. It's a fantasy filled with mindless grunts. My suspicion is that McCarthy's research involved a drive in Texas with some Border Patrol agent. The BP agent ranted on about all the "Bad Ombres" and provided a simplistic, black-and-white morality tale of the border. McCarthy then turned it into a novel.

He描绘了一个没有原住民的得克萨斯州（也许有一些千年历史的岩画来增添风景）。他笔下的得克萨斯州里，所有棕色皮肤的人都是无名的墨西哥毒品走私者，他们被无情地射杀。他还插入了一个反堕胎的恶作剧笑话来增添效果。

他希望如果他给我们的角色没有情感反应，我们就能理解在这些男人坚忍的面孔下有着所有的情感。然而，我却被他们空洞的声音和呆滞的眼神所说服。我既不钦佩他们，也不为他们加油。我大多只是感到恼火。唯一让我产生共鸣的角色是那个脾气暴躁、身患癌症的母亲，她理所当然地问为什么这些其他的白痴要拿他们的错误来烦她。我怀念古老的希腊或莎士比亚悲剧，人们在那里向神灵哭泣和哀号。在一个价值与面无表情地熟练使用枪支联系在一起的世界里，悲剧变得无聊。

这本书让我重新审视《血色子午线》。那本书展示了种族灭绝的暴力和天命论的肮脏。我喜欢那本书。但如果麦卡锡只是在寻找一场血腥的盛宴，并且他会接受任何落在他腿上的故事呢？

此外：我应该承认这对我来说是个人的感受。我在读这本书的时候，实际上就生活在边境。在这里，有民兵穿着防弹背心大摇大摆地走来走去。有边境巡逻队特工对我们咆哮着“在外面要小心”。有一些男人大谈危险。他们渴望升级为一场暴力，以匹配他们对自己勇敢的幻想。然后我看到了其他人，他们没有武器，他们热爱和尊重这片沙漠，他们关心那些受伤或迷路的人，他们缓和局势，他们带来水，他们欢笑和哭泣，他们在路上为蟾蜍停车，他们观察鸟类，他们编织出关于这个地方的不同故事。

Part crime and part Western, No Country For Old Men is a captivating and classic on-the-run story. One day, while out hunting, Llewelyn Moss stumbles upon a grisly scene of dead men, heroin, and a briefcase stuffed with over $2 million in cash. Unable to resist the temptation, he takes the money, thereby setting off a thrilling and dangerous chase.

Others who become involved in this chase include Wells, a former agent now working for the cartel, Chigurh, a menacing and dangerous murderer, and Sheriff Bell, who is grappling with his own moral dilemma from the past.

I must admit that it took me approximately 30% of the way into the story to become fully familiar with the various characters and to adjust to the unique writing style of the book. The writing is characterized by casual conversation, mostly short sentences, minimal and direct language, and a tendency to get straight to the point. However, as the story progressed, I found myself growing increasingly fond of this style.

I had no inkling of how things would unfold with Moss on the run and the other characters, each acting in pursuit of their often competing interests. This element of the unknown kept me completely engaged until the very end. McCarthy does an outstanding job of setting the scene and time period in the book, which is set in the 1980s near the Texas-Mexico border. It was incredibly easy to picture the various places, both the cities and the specific venues such as motels, diners, and gas stations.

The quote “Three weeks ago I was a law abiding citizen. Workin a nine to five job. Eight to four, anyways. Things happen to you they happen. They don’t ask first. They don’t require your permission.” really stuck with me.

I have not yet seen the movie adaptation of No Country For Old Men, but I fully intend to watch it soon. This was my first encounter with McCarthy's work, and I would most definitely be eager to read more of his books in the future.

So you decided to reread this book, he said.

Huh?

I said you decided to reread this book?

Sure.

Third time around?

Sure.

Don't get old?

Never.

As good as The Road?

Sure. As good as. Different. But as good as.

About a killer, huh?

Sure. And about the guy tracking him. But it's more than that. It's about life itself. And death too. And the human mind. It's about getting old. About making choices. About choices made for us. On the flip of a coin at times. It's about what you gonna do about it. Supposed to make you think, you know. Reflect on things. Can't say more than that. NCfOM gotta be lived. Experienced. Talking about it just won't cut it.

Seems to me as you talked a lot already.

Huh?

Never mind, he said. So why four stars? Why not five?

Why not five?

Uh-huh.

Why not?

He looked away and back. Think you'll read it a fourth time?

Sure.

Alright then.

Alright.

This conversation about a book reveals the depth of the reader's connection to it. The book seems to have a profound impact, making the reader want to reread it multiple times. It's not just about the story of a killer and the one tracking him; it delves into the essence of life, death, and the human mind. The reader emphasizes that it makes one think and reflect on various aspects of life, such as getting old and making choices. Despite already having read it three times, the reader is still drawn to it and plans to read it again. The question of why only four stars instead of five adds an interesting layer to the discussion, perhaps hinting at some small aspect that didn't quite reach perfection in the reader's eyes. Overall, this exchange shows the power of a good book to engage and stimulate thought.

This started as a one-star book, but as the story unfolded, it slowly progressed to four stars. The novel truly grows on you.

No Country for Old Men begins in a thoroughly disjointed manner. With multiple points of view, a total lack of punctuation, and dialogue presented exactly as the characters speak it, the reader is completely confused about where the focus lies, who the protagonist is, and what the story is about.

It could potentially be about Llewlyn Moss, who stumbles upon a fortune while hunting antelope near the Rio Grande. A drug deal has gone wrong, leaving a number of bodies, a large stash of heroin, and a case full of cash. Moss takes the cash and flees, fully aware that his life has changed forever.

Or perhaps it's about Anton Chigurh, a hired gun and cold-blooded killing machine. He is tasked with finding the money taken by Moss. Along the way, Chigurh leaves a trail of dead bodies, sometimes philosophizing with his victims.

Or it could be about Sheriff Bell, determined to do his job of maintaining law and order and protecting the citizens of his county to the best of his ability, even though he often fails.

The story moves at a roller-coaster pace. The scenes are short and mostly disjointed, with the author sometimes leaving major parts of the action offstage. Characters appear and disappear without any introduction. The sentences hit you like machine-gun fire.

If you persevere with the novel, after a while, you become accustomed to the style. It loses its potential to annoy, and the real story begins to emerge.

For this is not the story of Moss or Anton Chigurh, but of Sheriff Bell and the country he represents. This is the country of Daniel Boone, Wyatt Earp, Billy the Kid, and Jesse James, the country of "The Man With No Name" and countless Spaghetti Westerns we have seen and forgotten. This country is utterly heartless yet imbued with a certain terrible beauty. It sends its sons to die in Vietnam and Iraq.

Indeed, it is not a country for old men.

Anton Chigurh is a masterful creation, one of the most terrifying villains I've encountered because he is not "evil" in the traditional sense. Chigurh is a philosopher, a believer in the karma of his actions, which is unstoppable and will find you no matter what. The scenes of him philosophizing with Carson Wells and Carla Jean before shooting them are terrifying due to the lack of emotion. It's also ironic that an out-of-control car driven by three junkies, a completely random event, ultimately proves to be his downfall.

But as I said earlier, this is the story of Sheriff Bell, who is atoning for a single act of cowardice during World War II (rather like Lord Jim). We only learn this towards the very end, after the entire affair of Moss and Chigurh is over. Then the story suddenly comes into focus, and the sheriff's philosophical interludes, interspersed throughout the novel with the main narrative, start to make perfect sense. The killers, the chase, and the shootouts are all just window dressing for the story of this one man as he tries to make sense of the enigma of life's meaning. And he does find his answer, though perhaps not the one he expected.

The image of this man, standing alone in the desert, shoulders slumped in defeat against an increasingly violent and unjust world, is both touching and, in some strange way, heartening. Because we know that he is the true spirit of the desert, the gunslinger of American myth who rides off into the sunset after dealing with the bad guys. And because we know that finally, at the end of the trail, his dad will be waiting for him with the fire burning in the dark, as he saw in his dream.

Ride on, Sheriff Bell.

Ah, sure as hell ain't foolish enough to write this here review in dialect cause ah, sure as hell know it'll sound like ahm fixin' for a spankin' from the real deep south folks. But ah cain't resist the urge when the whole damn novel sounds like this. And why the hell not? Ah mean, we're in some southern location, maybe Texas, ain't we? But cain't ah keep up the dialect for the whole review? No, I sure as hell can't. So let me review in my usual arch and brusque manner and dispense with these dialectical fripperies.

This is a novel about a man who shoots everyone who crosses his path between the eyes and espouses this activity as a determinist philosophy. It's also about a man who accidentally makes off with a swag bag o' cash and accidentally gets himself and his wife shot between the eyes and misleads us into thinkin' he's some kinda hero. There's also an absolutely useless sheriff—sorry, sherrf—who waxes philosophical in dialect and who fails to solve the crime and who looks like Tommy Lee Jones even in the book.

I ain't sayin' I disliked it but I ain't sayin' I got it neither. It's a strange little novel that seems to be trying too hard to be something it's not. The dialect is charming at first but quickly becomes tiresome. The characters are one-dimensional and the plot is convoluted and ultimately unsatisfying. I can't recommend this novel to anyone but die-hard fans of southern noir or those who are really into strange and experimental literature.

Friends, both the book and the film adaptation of "The Brothers K" were excellent. Although I got a little more enjoyment from the film "The Brothers K". The film "The Brothers K" had a few minor differences from the book.

People always talk about the hardships that have befallen them and complain that it's not fair, but they never mention the good things. They don't talk about what they did that led to good things happening. Page 86 of the book.

Something that I always hear is that you can't compete with the truth. But I don't believe that. I think that all of this is a lie, the facts have been forgotten, and everything is out of place. It doesn't matter where or when this happened. You can't change it because it's like spoiled salt. You can't change it because that's just how it is. You can only talk about it. I heard somewhere that the truth is like a rock. Maybe it was in the Bible. I don't have any objections. But here, the rocks also disappear. Page 113 of the book.

Nineteen years old is the age when you understand that if something is as important to you as the world, the probability of losing it is greater. Sixteen years old is not enough to understand such a thing. Page 123 of the book.

Every moment in a person's life is an event, and every person who enters your life is your choice. You made a choice somewhere. That's what caused things to turn out this way. There is an exact account and record in your actions. The plans were drawn up in advance. No line can be erased. Page 235 of the book.

Whenever you try to get back something that was taken from you, you lose even more things. After a while, the only thing you get is the silence of your heart. Page 244 of the book.

Life in this country is hard. But it seems that people are not aware of its hardships. It's very strange. Just that they are not aware. Page 247 of the book.