The Strange Popularity of McCarthy

by F.

I’ve never understood the popularity of Cormac McCarthy, and I’m glad to see I’m not the only one:

I found myself in the same predicament with the film as with the book—approaching both in a state of rare excitement, yet willing myself, all too soon, to be more engaged than I actually was. If I want wry lawmen and smart, calculating fugitives, I’ll get them from Elmore Leonard; and, if I want Leonard, I’ll take him neat, rather than slow-filtered, drop by drop, through a layer of Faulkner, then laced with the Book of Jeremiah.

That’s Anthony Lane reviewing No Country for Old Men.

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