Saturday, June 28, 2008

Poem of the Day: The Road


These are the closing lines of Cormac McCarthy's The Road, which is a novel. Being the closing lines of a novel, no reasonable person would label it poetry, so I think it follows I am not a reasonable person. I suppose I'll just have to take that and move forward.

I hope the forthcoming film adaptation does no violence to this great book. Aragorn is playing one of the lead roles, which seems like good casting.

A note on the -+-+ SPOILER ALERT -+-+: This is a spoiler alert only in that I think it's best to reach this passage the old fashioned way, by reading the entire book and then landing here. It doesn't really "give away" any details of plot or character.

Cormac McCarthy, The Road (excerpt)

Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.

No comments: