Blood Meridian, or, The Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy, 351 pages
The kid set out for the West, fleeing violence at home. He found a place with the Glanton gang, a band of murderous Indian-hunters paid by the scalp. He did violence and violence was done to him, and whether there was more of the one or the other is impossible to say. With Glanton rode the expriest, who was never a priest, and the judge, though what he is a judge of is never revealed. The kid became the man, and was swallowed up by darkness.
What is written in the blood and fire poured out across the West? Cosmic wisdom? Gibberish? McCarthy asks his questions amidst a pounding, numbing succession of atrocities. A novel of terrifying ideas, not for faint hearts.
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