The Passenger

The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy (2022) I’m not sure if I think this is a good book, or a great book, or a life-changing event (for me), or a guilty pleasure, or a midlife crisis—what have you—but I’ve listened to the audio book (MacLeod Andrews and Julia Whelan, both excellent) 3 times and I’m only counting the days until I pick it up again. Or maybe I’ll read the book. I followed it the first time with Stella Maris, which only deepened my appreciation of it, which I’m sure Cormac McCarthy intended—it worked for me. I guess I’m a little afraid that if I overindulge it might ruin it for me—also, I’m always desiring to be “well-rounded,” but I feel like there are still mysteries to discover with this book—it’s not all pleasure of inspiring writing and odd humor, though that’s part of it. The odd, haunting, brother and sister, Bobby and Alicia Western, are at the center, though Alicia is dead, so maybe her chapters are in Bobby’s mind. It’s interesting how the book, with its wildly varying episodes, worked on me—at first I was so captivated by his array of misfit friends (particularly the hilarious John Sheddan) that I felt like Bobby was more of a blank canvas—but as the book goes on, your understanding of him deepens and he grows more complex. He’s one of my favorite characters ever. This is a book I keep telling people to check out—though no one’s come back and shared my appreciation of it, at least not yet. It might be a very personal book for me—I still haven’t figured it out. It’s got a lot of the same themes as Stella Maris, but from a different point of view. They are two books that definitely strengthen each other. It also seems crazy that they are both so recent—they feel ancient, in a way. I think people will be discovering these books for a long time to come.

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