Simultaneously reading Saturday by Ian McEwan and No Country for Old Men by Cormac Mccarthy is proving to be an apt comparison. I did not intend to read them at the same time but when the Mccarthy arrived today I couldn’t help but dip in. Soon I was hooked. Mccarthy’s prose is almost the opposite of McEwans, spare, harsh almost as opposed to McEwans gorgeous lines. But both writers write beautifully and evocatively, drawing you into their worlds.
These worlds are quite opposite, but yet…..
The novels are not as different as they might seem.
More to come.