Leaving The Road to Explore Further Darkness

Considerations on McCarthy, and a glimpse into February's Gothic Book Club title

Cormac McCarthy’s The Road may not have been the most joyous way to kick off your reading list for 2024 but, for many, it seems to have been a worthwhile one.

The reaction to this title has been emotional, to say the least. One would have to be carved from stone for this multi-faceted tale not to have resonated in some way.

The beautifully crafted relationship between the father and son, who remain nameless, as if it doesn’t matter anymore. The dense array of allegorical warnings about what may await our society, should we not pay heed. The sparse prose, echoing the barren, scorched landscape. McCarthy’s empathetic brutalism is on display in full effect within this novel, as are his adept skills at blending seemingly disparate genres with deft and apparent ease.

Carrying the fire. The running mantra for our tortured protagonists, is what we must do. I see the fire as hope; a will to persevere, even amongst the darkest days imaginable. That’s why I chose it for the Gothic Book Club, for we are walking our own road at the moment. The world is full of growing horrors, and it feels like we are being constantly pushed towards a precipice, over which we do not know what lies, but the screams from the other side indicate that it will neither be comfort nor safety.

Yet, we carry the fire. We remain hopeful. I am enthused by those who I see using their voices to share messages of vital importance at a time in which many are being silenced. This is why people speak out; it is also why people write.

While we may have wrapped on The Road, believe me, it won’t have finished with you. This book is an emotional tattoo. One which you will carry forever. I hope it elicited a sense of gratitude and place. That’s certainly what it did for me. It also highlighted what is important about humanity, and what we must to to preserve it.

So, where to from here?

For the month of February, I have taken a diversion (as I intend to do with most of the titles for the GBC), and we will be exploring the medieval majesty of Jo Walton’s Lent (2019). This was the first book I have read by Walton and I was completely enamored by it. I’m not generally one for fantastical historical fiction, but this one took me by surprise, and I feel a lot of the GBC members would get a lot from it too.

With shades of William Blake, Matthew Lewis, Umberto Eco and Hilary Mantel, cast through the lens of Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights. ‘Lent is a fantasy novel about Girolamo Savonarola. It takes place in Florence and Hell between 1492 and 1498’.

According to Walton;

I wrote it in 42 writing days, four of those in January of 2016, then 17 days in Italy (Florence and Sardinia) in May/June 2017 (in which I wrote 40,000 words) and the rest after I got home in September 2017.

It’s 116,000 words long, which makes it a little longer than most of my novels. It was inspired by a letter of Marsilio Ficino, quoted in Donald Weinstein’s Savonarola: The Rise and Fall of a Renaissance Prophet.

Despite the length (just shy of 400 pages) and the historical setting, this is a surprisingly swift read, due to its engaging premise, economical pacing and unique narrative approaches.

Am I just warming you all up to read Lewis’ The Monk at some stage? Probably, but we’ll get to that in time.

As with every GBC title, I have selected this with accessibility in mind. Lent is available worldwide in audiobook, e-book and physical formats. It can also be ordered in by most libraries (a practice I wholeheartedly recommend). With 28 days in the month, reading at a pace of 15-20 pages per day will get you through in no time.

This is a classical Gothic novel in many ways, filled with sublime descriptions of Hell and the demonic forces which reside within. The protagonist, Girolamo Savonarola is depicted as a mix between a saint, exorcist, healer and mystic, and his story is a fascinating one. Walton merges real life events, people and places with her fantastical creations, balanced with classical religious imagery to great effect.

It will, I feel, make a refreshing tonal change from the overwhelming bleakness of The Road, and open up a new form of Gothic literature for us to explore and discuss.

Here’s the breakdown…

Young Girolamo’s life is a series of miracles.

It’s a miracle that he can see demons, plain as day, and that he can cast them out with the force of his will. It’s a miracle that he’s friends with Pico della Mirandola, the Count of Concordia. It’s a miracle that when Girolamo visits the deathbed of Lorenzo “the Magnificent,” the dying Medici is wreathed in celestial light, a surprise to everyone, Lorenzo included. It’s a miracle that when Charles VIII of France invades northern Italy, Girolamo meets him in the field, and convinces him to not only spare Florence but also protect it. It’s a miracle than whenever Girolamo preaches, crowds swoon. It’s a miracle that, despite the Pope’s determination to bring young Girolamo to heel, he’s still on the loose…and, now, running Florence in all but name.

That’s only the beginning. Because Girolamo Savanarola is not who―or what―he thinks he is. He will discover the truth about himself at the most startling possible time. And this will be only the beginning of his many lives.

Thank you to everyone who came to the Gothic Book Club virtual meet-up last week. It’s always such a delight to delve into these stories and unpack them with you all. I will post about February’s event very soon.

On that note, I will also be utilizing the Substack a little more frequently. It is a superbly functional and effective way of remaining in touch with those who seek to do so. Given the constant algorithmic shifts and unspoken requirements of most social platforms, it’s both comforting and satisfying to simply write to you all instead.

Until we speak again, keep a candle on the nightstand and an eye upon the shadows.