“The Road” is a very acclaimed book. Supposedly Cormac McCarthy is good at writing, which is what you’ll see critics talk about.

The writing was what I liked least about it.

“The Road” is about a man and his son as they walk south so as not to freeze in the post-apocalyptic winter. The book doesn’t explain, but some cataclysmic disaster has destroyed almost all life on the earth. Roaming bands of cannibals walk around and, well, eat people. They eek out a living surviving off of abandoned supplies in houses and stores, and continue on the road for the entirety of the novel.

The plot of the book is, as hinted above, nothing special. There aren’t any shocking twists; really there is no conflict/resolution in the novel at all. Everything sucks, and they keep walking through all the everything that sucks. It’s sort of a ramble. Even the ending, which is supposed to be some sort of inspiring message on hope, I found tired and predictable. Chance of a popular apocalyptic horror novel ending in an inspiring manner: 82%.

The reason I liked “The Road” was that this on and on of depressing nothings, this rambling sort of writing where nothing means anything is really quite suited to a postapocalyptic setting. This peculiar plot dynamic seemed to work. McCarthy is really very good at making one feel those most desperate emotions of terror and despair. This is the only reason that I was distracted from the bad writing and the lackluster and predictable plot.

I wanted to like this book, I really tried, but Cormac, it’s not artsy to use unclear pronouns and not capitalize things. It’s not postmodern, or poetic, or avant-garde. It’s unpleasant.