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During a rare appearance in Santa Fe, N.M., in 2015, Cormac McCarthy offered a tantalizing glimpse of his work in progress: “The Passenger,” a novel that explored esoteric ideas about math, physics and the nature of consciousness.
Readers have been eager for the novel ever since. Widely revered as one of the greatest living American writers, McCarthy has not published a novel since 2006, when he released “The Road,” a post-apocalyptic survival story that won the Pulitzer Prize and became a best seller.
Me, too. Though I do wish he would get the quotation marks key fixed on his keyboard. That pretentious affectation of his drives me crazy.
I doubt Cormac McCarthy cares one iota about what the public thinks of his unconventional stylistic choices. If he did, he'd probably just follow convention. But given his history, and his long fallow periods, it's clear that he writes for himself and no one else.
Your endless need to ascribe personal flaw or defect to things just because you don't like them is, frankly, bizarre.
But given his history, and his long fallow periods, it's clear that he writes for himself and no one else.
Then why publish?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Unsettomati
Your endless need to ascribe personal flaw or defect to things just because you don't like them is, frankly, bizarre.
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