Cormac McCarthy, one of the most celebrated American novelists of recent decades, died Tuesday of natural causes in Santa Fe, N.M. He was 89.
McCarthy’s writing style, often likened to literary legends like Ernest Hemingway and William Faulkner, stands out as distinctive, combining minimal punctuation with thought-provoking reflections on the depths of our human essence.
The author’s writings achieved acclaim and recognition from both the general public and experts in the field. For instance, “All the Pretty Horses” received the prestigious National Book Award, while “The Road” was honored with the Pulitzer Prize. These works also achieved commercial success, becoming best-sellers. Additionally, the Coen brothers’ adaptation of “No Country for Old Men” into a movie was met with critical acclaim, earning an Oscar. One of the author’s notable works, “Blood Meridian,” is known for its unsettling violence, being hailed as the quintessential Western by renowned literary scholar Harold Bloom. Critics often place it among the finest American novels of the latter half of the 20th century.
McCarthy published his final two novels, The Passenger and Stella Maris, two months apart, in October and December 2022.
In a statement on Tuesday, Penguin Random House CEO, Nihar Malaviya, expressed that Cormac McCarthy has had a profound impact on the literary world. Over the span of sixty years, McCarthy has exhibited unwavering commitment to his writing and has delved into the boundless potential and influence of words on paper. His novels resonate with readers worldwide, captivating them with his well-crafted characters, mythical elements, and raw emotional authenticity that permeates every page. These brilliant works are not only relevant in the present, but also possess a timeless quality that will continue to captivate generations to come. The enduring legacy of Cormac McCarthy will undoubtedly shape the course of literature.
McCarthy’s literary repertoire knows no boundaries as he fearlessly navigates through various genres, never sticking to one for too long. His versatility shines through as he effortlessly transitions from the eerie and atmospheric world of Southern Gothic, to the rugged and wild frontiers of the Western genre, and even takes us on a harrowing journey into a post-apocalyptic wasteland. However, regardless of the genre, one common theme threads itself through his works: male protagonists who find themselves severed from the pulse of human civilization. Take, for instance, Cornelius Suttree, who resides in solitary confinement aboard his houseboat in the atmospheric novel aptly titled Suttree. Likewise, in The Road, a heart-wrenching tale of survival, we follow the footsteps of a father and son as they navigate the desolate remains of a world consumed by chaos. McCarthy’s ability to intricately weave such isolated characters into his narratives captivates readers, evoking a sense of perplexity and stirring our imaginations.
Despite McCarthy’s avoidance of public engagements, teaching obligations, and interviews, it was not uncommon for certain spectators to label him as a solitary figure, much like the protagonists in his literary works. However, it is important to acknowledge that McCarthy was never cut off from society; rather, his detachment stemmed largely from the media.
During one of his infrequent interviews, he confided in Oprah Winfrey, stating, “Let’s each stick to our respective sides of the fence.” It was particularly notable because Oprah had selected his book, The Road, as part of her esteemed book club collection. His inclination was to spend time with scientists rather than fellow writers, which was evident as he held a prestigious position as a fellow at the Santa Fe Institute. This institute served as a haven for intellectual pursuits in theoretical science.
Every now and then, traces of McCarthy’s own life appeared in his writing. McCarthy was born in Providence in 1933, but not long after, his family relocated to Knoxville, Tennessee. During his time at the University of Tennessee, he met and eventually married his fellow student, Lee Holleman.
Once upon a time, there was a couple who decided to start a new chapter of their lives in a humble shack just beyond Knoxville. To their dismay, this little dwelling lacked essential amenities like heat and running water. Despite their best efforts to make this place their home, the reality of their situation eventually brought about feelings of hopelessness for one of them. This person, named Holleman, eventually chose to leave the shack and relocate to Wyoming, marking the first of McCarthy’s three divorces. However, the challenges faced during their time in the shack left a lasting impact on Holleman’s former partner, who goes on to be the main character in McCarthy’s renowned novel, Suttree. The protagonist’s life on a decrepit houseboat along the Tennessee River is heavily inspired by the couple’s experiences in this dilapidated setting.
McCarthy eventually relocated to Santa Fe, skillfully capturing the breathtaking beauty of the American Southwest in his artistic masterpieces such as Blood Meridian. In his later years, McCarthy welcomed his second son, John, when he himself was already in his sixties. This precious father-son bond became the driving force behind the creation of The Road, with McCarthy admitting that many of the book’s conversations were directly inspired by their heartfelt discussions.
In many of McCarthy’s writings, there is a prevailing theme of the world being on the brink of catastrophe, both in a literal and metaphorical sense. For instance, in The Road, the planet has suffered from an undisclosed catastrophe, leaving it in ruins. Similarly, characters such as Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men or the formidable Judge from Blood Meridian embody a kind of violence that represents a nihilistic outlook on life. These individuals become living embodiments of destruction and despair.
McCarthy had an unparalleled ability to stare into the dark reaches of the human soul, and what he saw there became the foundation for much of his work. “Creative work is often driven by pain,” he told the Wall Street Journal in 2009. “It may be that if you don’t have something in the back of your head driving you nuts, you may not do anything.”