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They wandered the borderlands for weeks seeking some sign of the Apache. Deployed upon that plain they moved in a constant elision, ordained agents of the actual dividing out the world which they encountered and leaving what had been and what would never be alike extinguished on the ground behind them. Specter horsemen, pale with dust, anonymous in the crenellated heat. Above all else they appeared wholly at venture, primal, provisional, devoid of order. Like beings provoked out of the absolute rock and set nameless and at no remove from their own loomings to wander ravenous and doomed and mute as gorgons shambling the brutal wastes of Gondwanaland in a time before nomenclature was and each was all.
Blood Meridian or The Evening Redness in the West
Cormac McCarthy
I became acquainted with the work of Cormac McCarthy through his silver screen adaptations. My first experience was the 2007’s adaptation of No Country For Old Men. A movie that, for all its merits – and there are many –, I failed to connect with; most likely on account of my lack of interest with the modern western genre. Despite the terrific acting by Bardem and Brolin, the directing, and Roger Deakins’ always perfect cinematography, the Coen brother’s adaptation just didn’t resonate beyond that initial first watch and it soon faded into the back of my mind.
I’d only have to wait two years, for the release of 2009’s The Road to find the story that’d make me take notice of its source material. Set in a post-apocalyptic, grey world, where everything is dead, The Road tells the story of a father and a son trying to survive a scourged Earth filled with brutality, desolation, and only the smallest glimmers of hope. Viggo Mortensen delivers yet another brutal performance that sits amongst his best, next to his characters in A History of Violence, Eastern Promises and, of course, The Lord of The Rings.
Since that first viewing experience, The Road and its author entered my never-ending list of to-read books. Once I came very close to its purchase, when I found a used copy in favorite bookstore, but unfortunately some animal battered it and its condition was unsalvageable. (Editorial note: I hold the firm belief that there is a special place in hell for people that mistreat books). Still, I figured that sooner or later The Road would be my first Cormac McCarthy book.
And yet, here I find myself with a review of Blood Meridian.
The story behind the purchase of this book is far less sprawling and uneventful and, because I’m starting to get that tingling sensation that I may be pushing my reader’s patience, it is also short. In early autumn, I took notice that 2022 had been a somewhat endogamic reading year with only two out of the eight books I’ve read, belonging to previously unearthed authors. My then-reading-pile seemed inclined to perpetuate that trend and, at some point, I recalled McCarthy’s name. After a bit of digging, I learned that, despite The Road’s popularity, Blood Meridian was widely acknowledged as his masterpiece. I then took to my second-hand app, and I stumbled into a seller that had a bundle pack of Blood Meridian and All The Pretty Horses at a ridiculous low price and, as they say, the rest is history. (Editorial note: as part of this research, I also learned that All The Pretty Horses was McCarthy’s first hit. For a while I pondered the notion of starting with that novel – apparently more accessible – but the prospect of a new take on the Western and relentless violence quieted that possibility).
I’ve never read (or seen) a Western like Blood Meridian. Mind you, I am at best a casual connoisseur of the genre. I am familiar with the tropes established by the Johns (Ford and Wayne), the defining films of Sergio Leone, and the deconstructionist take of Eastwood’s Unforgiven, but I’ve never been a established cinematic fan (my literary record is even poorer and unworthy of listing). My point being that, based on the aforementioned research and framing, I was ready to tackle Blood Meridian expecting something along the lines of Unforgiven. Needless to say, I completely missed the mark.
The premise of the book is simple enough to capture in one sentence: a young boy (the kid) leaves his home and, after near-death experience at the hand of Apaches, he finds himself joining Judge Holden and his gang who make a living slaughtering and scalping Indians.
I’m not keen on discussing the plot beyond the premise, because (a) I don’t find recollecting a book’s beats particularly enthralling reviewing and (b) there is not much of a plot to discuss. That isn’t to say that the book is plotless but that instead there is a deliberate and methodical wandering, that perfectly fits and favors the story McCarthy is telling. We (the reader) view the story through the eyes of the kid, a young boy that is just trying to survive in an environment that operates under the minimum rules of civility, a world where opportunities appear out of chance or necessity, and that could mean life or death; there is no certainty or plan. This environment creates a foreboding aimlessness throughout the book that is embedded directly in the character’s journey. It conjures a rudderless sensation that is further enhanced by the role of nature in the story. Environments fade into each other to create what I can only describe as a sensation of anotherness; an alien, merciless, and isolating combination of elements stripping the characters to its core, literally and figuratively.
These factors (aimlessness + anotherness), imbue Blood Meridian with a sense of doom that soars under McCarthy’s apocalyptic prose. His command of language is nothing sort of impeccable: the imagery is unique, the wording biblical, and the metaphors poignant -and the Spanish was an added bonus I was not expecting- . Blood Meridian is a book that you can open at any page to find a beautiful passage. (Editorial note: The text that tops this review is on page 172, it holds no particularly significance within the book, but it summoned a very vivid image in my mind when I first read it).
Blood Meridian is also a violent and graphic book. Based on the reviews I read before I made the purchase, I was expecting that the gore and acts of debauchery depicted would shock me a bit more than they did. That, however, is more indicative of my level of desensitization with that type of material and should not be ignored by would-be readers; it is unapologetically graphic and a point of consideration for the easily squeamish.
When I reached the midway point, the similarities between Blood Meridian and Moby Dick started dawning on me: the deserted landscapes were variations on the sameness of the ocean, the gang and the ship crew, although populated by different personalities, established a hierarchy and role within the group for each character, the biblical and sometimes Shakespearian language choices, the kid acting as an immoral variation of Ishamel, the Apache hunting being a variation on the whale hunting… the similarities piled up in uncanny ways. There is, however, one unique and irreplicable variation: Judge Holden. (Editorial note: I was tempted to pursue the thought that maybe The Judge has more to do with the White Whale than with Ahab, but I’ll ruminate on that off-page).
Judge Holden, or The Judge, is the star of Blood Meridian. Impenetrable, fascinating, inhuman, savior and doom… he is a remarkable character that grabs the reader’s attention every time he is on the page. I’m certain that the nature of this character is subject to many theories and interpretations, and mine whilst simplistic seems accurate: The Judge is the devil.
I reached that conclusion based on the following:
- The introduction to the character comes at the expense of destroying a preacher.
- He roams the dessert leading a band of killers that use their “job” to commit heinous crimes of the cruelest nature.
- He surrounds himself with aimless people with nothing to lose and…
- He knows how to manipulate, play, and bend them to come out on top.
- His conversations and acts are more akin to those of an all-knowing mystic than a human.
- The ending. (Which I won’t spoil)
The similarities between Moby Dick and Blood Meridian deviate on account of the Judge and yet, at the same time, land on a similar note. Case in point: if Moby Dick is a story that, thematically, deals with the human obsession; embodied in Captain Ahab, then Blood Meridian is a story that deals with immorality and sin which is embodied in The Judge*. The outcome of both vices is very similar for the sufferers of its consequences -the kid and Ishmael- in as much as it’s not good.**
* Ahab and Judge Holden’s only similarity is that they are both iconic, but they are two completely different beasts.
* Because I’m comparing the two, I feel the need to highlight that the kid’s outcome is both more abstract and more horrifying. Ishmael still manages to survive to tell his story, whereas the kid’s future is uncertain -and damn effective because you can’t help to imagine the worst-. One could argue that the punishment is fitting of the crime and that following a monomaniac captain hellbent on killing a whale, does not warrant the same consequences of following a man dedicated to the slaughter of Indians.
I hope that I don’t give the incorrect impression that Blood Meridian is a lesser version of Moby Dick, because it is not. Comparisons between the two should only indicate the quality of McCarthy’s book and act as reference for any would-be readers. To use a simple analogy, imagine two great chefs (Melville and McCarthy) tasked with making a dish and each with the same ingredients than the other. The outcome is that both deliver a perfect dish with similarities (the ingredients) but variations on the cooking.
I finished reading Blood Meridian at the end of November. Unfortunately, I wrote down all my notes, but I failed to record the day when I finished the book; an educated guess would be the weekend of the 26th of November but I’m not certain. I’m doing a two-book marathon before the year ends, so stay tuned because another review is coming up tomorrow. Until then, and as always, thanks for reading.
Editorial Notes 
[…] Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses through an app in a bundled pack that also included Blood Meridian. Although my primary interest was with the latter, the price was so cheap that I couldn’t pass […]
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