As I read Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road”, I keep asking the question “Is there even hope? If so, what would they even be hoping for?” I fail to see what their need for hope even is because what do they have to hope for? The world isn’t going to go back to the way it was before the fires, and their survival instincts and natural will to live is the only reason they are still alive. The man knows they both don’t have much longer to live, so the reason he struggles so hard to protect the boy is, in my opinion, because he doesn’t want him to die a horrifying death. Who would want that for their child? The man is owning up to his father-figure instincts and tries to protect his son as best as he can from an awful death.
I say this not to analyze the novel, but to elaborate on my view of it. This version of a post-apocalyptic America is a terrifyingly possible future, and with this idea in mind, “The Road”, in a way, somewhat convicts me. It makes me think of how would I deal with this if it were to happen, or what would motivate me in a hopeless world? Would I be able to trust in God all the way until the end, or would I fall away? Without God in a trying time such as this, death would be a horrifying thing. But with God, death would be a welcoming thing to me. He would give me the hope of living forever in a much better world than this, so why would I try to prolong my pointless life on earth? The hope found in this book is not the hope of living, it’s the hope of a painless death.