pages are hard and intense. I hope that what laws will never happen, but you know it could happen one day. I have never liked the books they want to say the apocalypse, but this book has something that catches you, it enters into history and, although perhaps you would like to get out, they remain bound to fathom, to see how it will end. E 'is not an end, like any great book leaves open the conversation, something ends, but something more. 
In the new novel by Cormac McCarthy, The Road, an unspecified global disaster brought an end to life on earth: a man and a child who did not name, through a desolate landscape, a vast expanse ashes in search of food. On head south towards the sea, flying, flying and nothing else. 
A father and son, then, without nulla'altro that their indissoluble bond and tender. A bond that contrasts with so much destruction facing step by step, moment by moment. There is nothing else: there is no more history, time, there are more cities, homes, families, there is not even always look toward the sky in search of hope, is perpetually obscured, leaden " as the beginning of a cold glaucoma that clouds the world. " There is only the road along which push a cart with what little they still have: some blankets, a little canned food. And when you finally reach the sea, what's opens in front of a vast ocean and cold that has " the desolation of some alien sea that washes the shores of an unknown planet. Farther off, on the shoals created by the oil, a tanker ran aground" . E 'a desperate tale interspersed with memories and dreams of man (especially on his wife - the mother of the child - who decided to commit suicide rather than endure such hell broke it further left alone).
Then again devastated villages, houses, miraculously survived the looting, but always in a hellish landscape, where the only color is that the flames of the fires that still burn dead trees.
A nature, as always McCarthy's novels, revealing his face terrible inhuman, merciless, indifferent.
But in all this devastation stands the poignant relationship between father and son, the love that binds them unbeatable. The few dry words that are exchanged are full of intimate affection, special family. When he woke in the woods in the darkness and cold of the night stretched out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Darkest of dark nights and days more gray than just a past. As the beginning of a cold glaucoma that clouds the world. His hand rose and fell with each precious breath
Their report, seeking reassurance in each other, the certainty that one is there for each other.
stories the father tells his son in the face of endless night or trust that the child subject to the parent are often highly emotional.
Then he opened his eyes. Hello pope said . I'm here.
I know.
This is unexpected tenderness, despair and melancholy, the best gift that McCarthy offers its readers.
I wondered why I kept reading the book though as they proceeded anxiety increased: it was the whispered cry appena da quel bambino che chiedeva la presenza dell’adulto, che chiedeva che non si facesse del male mai più, che si commuoveva di fronte ad ogni essere in difficoltà, che aveva paura e piangeva, ma sapeva anche dar prova di grande coraggio, che pensava fosse giusto ancora aiutare e non uccidere. Ed era quel padre che resisteva per quel bambino anche se per se stesso avrebbe invocato la morte… Questo è il più bel messaggio che un libro possa dare. In questo libro c'è nonostante tutto il senso della vita .
Il bambino è terrorizzato. Ma non smette di pensare al bene, al giusto, al vero. La bellezza sopravvive nella sua mente anche se è nato quando la catastrofe era già accaduta, anche se non has never seen another child and has never known the life of which we still enjoy. He knows the compassion for the living and the dead, there is the question of the morality of any act, knows and will love, even in a desolate world with no future. Convinces his father to donate the little they have. It's good, just asking to be good.
" We Still good. And we will always be ". "If he is not the word of God, then God has never spoken to him thinks her father, the child observes and flour a snowflake as" the last army of Christianity. "
"We bring the fire" simbolo forse della speranza che non si deve spegnere nonostante tutto…
Illustrazioni tratte dal film
0 comments:
Post a Comment