Carrying the Fire: What Cormac McCarthy Reminded Me About Being a Man

Some thoughts on 'The Road' and the year ending.

I’m way up in the rafters at the Barclay’s Center, waiting for Zach Bryan to take the stage. This is the last concert that I’ll see this year, which has been long and trying, yet also very rewarding. I’m trying to angle my book to properly get enough light to read the words off the page, because the section that we’re in at the Barclay’s is very dark. As I approach the end of the book, my fiancée glances over and sees me weeping, full-on tears. The book is Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

The Road is a fast and relatively easy read. Much has been said about McCarthy’s sparing style of prose, so I will avoid ruminating on his lack of punctuation and short, straightforward sentences. Despite being easy on a technical level to get through, The Road is bleak. Despite the main characters’ regular reminders that they’re “carrying the fire,” there’s no promise that there’s ever going to be some form of salvation. Any moments where there’s hope are short-lived, and there’s a reminder that you cannot live in that hope for long. The cruel world is always outside of the door, and you need to be prepared to run.

There is a sense that The Road should appeal to a certain type of guy. The survivalist story, the father-son connection, the scarce language, etc. make this a masculine story. In 2009, McCarthy told The Wall Street Journal, “I will never be competent enough to [write about a woman], but at some point you have to try.” Few women appear throughout The Road, and if I remember correctly, only one speaks.

The past few months (and really years) have led to a lot of thoughts about masculinity. Many words on the internet have been spent discussing how Gen Z men have been impacted by men like Joe Rogan, Andrew Tate, and the Manosphere. I think that something positive could be taken from forcing young men to read Cormac McCarthy and The Road.

I won’t act like reading is something that will easily impact people, and you cannot force people to have a nuanced understanding of any piece of art. I think a lot about how my favorite writer, Ernest Hemingway, is inherently flawed, and that many men have taken the Hemingway image to justify a certain level of machismo and toxic masculinity. That being said, what Hemingway has in common with is that many of his characters are struggling to make sense of the world. Even though there are plenty of issues in the ways that Hemingway goes about it, I do think that most of his main characters are trying to empathetic, understanding, and truly trying to better themselves. As I read The Road, I saw this in the man, who’s point-of-view most of the story is told from.

The Road is not simply a story about survival, but it’s about a nameless man who is trying to protect his young son. Even though there are plenty of moments where I feel the man slipping into toxic masculinity, he also does his best to squander those thoughts, and he tries to be understanding of his son who is just a child. When the boy misplaces the gun or makes mistakes, you can read the frustration and fear, but whenever we get the dialogue, he is trying to assure his son that his mistake was not detrimental to their survival.

I also see someone who would’ve given up long ago, but refuses to. He simply holds on to try to protect his son and find somewhere that he can bring him to safety. Through sickness and the bleak world that they wander through, the man’s goal is to simply reach the south and find somewhere that he can survive with his son.

Throughout the story, the man’s son consistently asks him if they are the good guys, and while the man certainly believes that he is, there are plenty of times where that idea is challenged. There’s a time when the man forces the boy to run away from another child he sees, and there’s an instance where the man forces a highway robbery to strip from his clothes after he nearly made off with all of their belongings. The boy is the one who advises the man to go back and try to show some kindness to the thief. While there are plenty of times where it’s clear that the man is struggling to be empathetic and good as the world is ending around him, the boy’s presence is a reminder to always be better.

I’ve been listening to Jamie Loftus’ exploration of the manosphere on her podcast Sixteenth Minute (of Fame), and I’m reminded of the fact that many men’s displays of masculinity are not similar to my own. Exploring the Andrew Tates of the world, and you’ll see a lot of selfish, careless, and downright cruel men. Even though the world in The Road is brutal, the relationship between the father and the son are a consistent reminder to push against those and try to do something good, even when it’s difficult or you’re conflicted.

In an incredibly trying year (with some sweet high points, reminiscent of those moments where they can take refuge in a place with lots of leftover food), The Road seemed fitting as the final novel that I’ve read. Reading that Vanity Fair profile about McCarthy’s muse, I’ve really taken to McCarthy’s catchphrase: “Walk on.”

Throughout The Road, both of our protagonists are constantly challenged by a world crumbling around them. No matter how hard the things get, they try to carry the torch for goodness, kindness, and empathy. Even though many men have drifted towards cruelty and selfishness, you have to keep trying to be your best self and most of all, walk on.