Last month, American literary titan Cormac McCarthy died. Having lived to 89, across the industrial and information age, he probably dies complete. As someone who so extravagantly sought to transcend his time, he leaves a legacy that almost befits the audaciousness of his literary ambitions.
Over here, we have not thought much of him since his death, but McCarthy knew about us. Although famously reclusive, after dedicated to his son John, he told : “If the family situation was different, I could see taking John and going to New Zealand. It’s a civilised place.”
