Blood Meridian is the result of a failed, uneducated, unemployed old man with a niche for using gore as a selling point...

Blood Meridian is the result of a failed, uneducated, unemployed old man with a niche for using gore as a selling point. It's roughly on the same level as formula romance/crime stories.

An uneducated reader (you're 15, you're uneducated, it's not an insult) looks at McCarthy and see's a book that carries you, shocks you, but ultimately bores you 90% of the time especially since relating modern books to used up biblical allegory is just BORING and TIRED.

McCarthy has done an incredible thing though. He has tricked people into thinking that he didn't use a ripped up thesaurus while living with cockroaches in a shaggy motel off some roadside truckstop hooker hang up.

His idea of editing is taking proper prose and then cutting it up, removing key words, and throwing in a six syllable word that means "taking a shit against a tree".

He is the equivalent of a magician in literature. He dazzles people who have no real interest of understanding what it takes to be a magician.

Lastly, the whole idea of "show, don't tell" has been translated by McCarthy into, "don't tell anything, bible reference, remove a word, look at the thesaurus, rip off someone else's stories with a weak copyright, add gore, publish".

He has no real creativity. He's a bad, homemade, poverty re-press of a great vinyl. It's a true abomination.

...

It's not that gory tho just violent

You haven't read Blood Meridian, and you barely have the reading comprehension to regurgitate whichever meme reviews you've read of it.

We get it, you're intelligent and better than everyone else because you have a strong disdain for culture and are unable to enjoy things revered by others. Are you happy now in your selfmade solitude?

idontlikething.png

Was this originally from a literary critic or did you just copy it from Reddit?

the latter

Despite being written by an edgy teenage Redditor it isn't far from the mark.

>"All night sheetlightning quaked sourceless to the west beyond the midnight thunderheads, making a blusih day of the distant desert, the mountains on the sudden skyline stark and black and livid like a land of some other order out there whose true geology was not stone but fear. The thunder moved up from the southwest and lightning lit the desert all about them, blue and barren, great clanging reaches ordered out of the absolute night like some demon kingdom summoned up or changeling land that come the day would leave them neither trace nor smoke nor ruin more than any troubling dream."

>other order out there
I swear I don't understand anyone that doesn't find his prose utterly beautiful.

>Not understanding that McCarthy juxtaposes blunt dialogue with flowery vocabulary to guide the reader without quotation marks

>It's a true abomination.

The only correct statement in this bait. It's a gloriously beautiful abomination at that.

The kid rapes and murders the little girl in the last chapter and leaves her in the outhouse.

"The man who was relieving himself” warns the other two men not to open the door. “The man” then “hitched himself up and buttoned his trousers and stepped past them”, just how in the dwarf whore’s room the man “stood and pulled his trousers up and buttoned them”. Calling this man outside the jakes “the man” really seems to link him to the kid, who now for the first time in the novel is being called “the man”. And they both are associated, within two pages, with the same detail of buttoning the trousers.

What while the Judge watches? I remember it stating that the Judge is waiting in the outhouse and embraces him.

What's up Reddit, how's your wife's son doing?

Stop with this silly meme. It's silly.

Why exactly was The Judge disappointed in The Kid at the end for being sympathetic? What did he do?

>le "disregard grammatical convention to appear smart to pseuds who are too afraid to appear to not get it to call me on my bullshit" man
emporer's new clothes, tee bee aitch

>It was a lone tree burning on the desert. A heraldic tree that the passing storm had left afire. The solitary pilgrim drawn up before it had traveled far to be here and he knelt in the hot sand and held his numbed hands out while all about in that circle attended companies of lesser auxiliaries routed forth into the inordinate day, small owls that crouched silently and stood from foot to foot and tarantulas and solpugas and vinegarroons and the vicious mygale spiders and beaded lizards with mouths black as a chowdog's, deadly to man, and the little desert basilisks that jet blood from their eyes and the small sandvipers like seemly gods, silent and the same, in Jeda, in Babylon. A constellation of ignited eyes that edged the ring of light all bound in a precarious truce before this torch whose brightness had set back the stars in their sockets.

>He has tricked people into thinking that he didn't use a ripped up thesaurus while living with cockroaches in a shaggy motel off some roadside truckstop hooker hang up.

literary as fuck 2bh famalam, this alone makes it a 10/10 masterpiece.