Well, I did as a promised. The Road is complete, technically with a day to spare for you Canadians. I feel like I'm back in the game.
Reading The Road at night probably wasn't the best idea, I was on edge pretty much the whole time. But this really is one of my favorite theme of books...what humanity does when the world doesn't look like this anymore...generally after crisis. Haha.

(PS: this really does feel like High School English class when I write this, and I LOVED English class...)

As for the overall style of the writing, there was one quote that I thought kind of captured the tone for the rest of the book:
“In the dream she was sick and he cared for her. The dream bore the look of sacrifice but he thought differently. He did not take care of her and she died alone somewhere in the dark and there is no other dream nor other waking world and there is no other tale to tell.”

There is this little glimmer of hope and goodness in the first sentence and a half, but that is quickly extinguished, both by the circumstances that surround them and also by the Father's own outlook.

The father seems so much more real because he really only does have one hope, both for his life and for his death, and that is the living next generation child with him. I think in a lot of books they would dwell longer on the outside things such as 'the discovery of stores of food' or a 'warm place to sleep' and really add more value to those as something that keeps up the hopes of the father. But they rightfully remain the things that are just life prolonging, not the object of life.

As I progressed to the end of this book, it reminded me more and more of the book of Ecclesiastes, in which one of the wealthiest kings in history muses about having everything he could have possibly ever wanted and still being unhappy. The only good that will come of everything you ever work and strive for will be that it is passed onto the next generation. Of the fruits of your labour, you see nothing, thus everything is meaningless. At the end of the book, the boy promises his father he 'wont forget', and that's about all the father can hope for.


So I thought the boy was really great, and I loved watching how he shifted in representation...

• The boy seemed to have the immediate reaction of any of us, given everything was stripped away, such as scepticism and pride etc. I suppose back to our whole childhood self. The innate knowledge of when things are good and bad, overwhelming fear, or naive acceptance. I like that...because I was so very fearful with him...haha. Like this quote:
  "I was crying but you didn’t wake up.
  I’m sorry. I was just so tired.
  I meant in the dream.”
  -It's so simple but, yea, that idea of someone you depend on suddenly not hearing you. FRIGHTENING!
  
• “All of this like some ancient anointing. So be it. Evoke the forms. Where you’ve nothing else construct ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them.” Oh my did I like this quote. I've always thought about how interesting it is that almost any culture no matter where or how developed creates for itself something to worship. There's a human need to worship something as greater than oneself, as the exciton's of that greater thing is what gives us any sort of reason to keep going/growing/searching...and so this boy becomes the father's.
  

Hmm I feel like I thought lots more but those are the things I can put into words. Thoughtful...cold and windy....raw...quiet. Humm

So book for this next month...I've had trouble deciding, half because I don't know what I can get on Kindle. A couple options for things I already have but have yet to read are:
Metemorphasis-Kafka
The Invisible Man-H.G Wells

One that I don't have but have considered reading for the sake of its difference in author/location/subjects that I would usually be interested in (and I now know I can get from Kindle) are:
A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian-Marina Lewycka